'■C: 


*^/i€y 


^a^/i^/*^ua^' 


c:/u^un^^^  c/e^iA^n^ 


'li(ts\m><i  ,j/y^-'i 


'4:3 


m:^ 


A   SHORT    HISTORY 


OF   THE 


ENGLISH     PEOPLE 


Lim«liii(lp     I     Vfvut     at      O     i;r«><>Tm-1oh    1      laff. 


BNQLAND   IN   TUK   NINETEENTH    CENTURY. 


•  •  •  •  •  *   \ 
•  •    •  •  •  , 


(l^ki'^  ' 


A  SHOR'n -HISTORY 


OF  THE 


ENGLISH   PEOPLE 


BY 


JOHN    RICHARD    GrREfiN 

HONORARY    FELLOW  OF   IKSUS  COLLEGE,  OXFORD 


WITH   MAPS  AND  TABLES 


NEir  EDIT/ ON,  THOROUGHLY  REVISED 


NEW  YORK    :•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN      BOOK     COMPANY 


VhZ 


HCNRY  MORSE  STCf^KN^ 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  story  of  how  the  Short  History  of  the  English  People  came  to 
be  written  would  be  the  story  of  Mr.  Green's  life,  from  the  time  when 
his  boyish  interest  was  first  awakened  by  the  world  beyond  himself 
until  his  work  was  done.  So  closely  are  the  work  and  the  worker 
bound  together  that  unless  the  biography  be  fully  written  no  real 
account  of  the  growth  of  the  book  can  indeed  be  given.  But  in 
issuing  a  Revised  Edition  of  the  History,  a  slight  sketch  of  the 
historical  progress  of  the  writer's  mind,  and  of  the  gradual  way  in 
which  the  plan  of  his  work  grew  up,  may  not  seem  out  of  place. 

John  Richard  Green,  who  was  born  at  Oxford  in  December  1837, 
was  sent  at  eight  years  old  to  Magdalen  Grammar  School,  then  held 
in  a  small  room  within  the  precincts  of  the  College.  The  Oxford  world 
about  him  was  full  of  suggestions  of  a  past  which  very  early  startled 
his  curiosity  and  fired  his  imagination.  The  gossiping  tales  of  an  old 
dame  who  had  seen  George  the  Third  drive  through  the  town  in  a 
coach  and  six  were  his  first  lessons  in  history.  Year  after  year  he  took 
part  with  excited  fancy  in  the  procession  of  the  Magdalen  choir  boys 
to  the  College  tower  on  May  Day,  to  sing  at  the  sunrising  a  Hymn  to 
the  Trinity  which  had  replaced  the  Mass  chanted  in  pre-Reformation 
days,  and  to  "jangle"  the  bells  in  recognition  of  an  immemorial 
festival.  St.  Giles'  fair,  the  "  beating  of  the  bounds,"  even  the  name 
of  "  Pennyfarthing  Street,"  were  no  less  records  of  a  mysterious  past 
than  Chapel  or  College  or  the  very  trees  of  Magdalen  Walk ;  and  he 
once  received,  breathless  and  awe-struck,  a  prize  from  the  hands  of 
the  centenarian  President  of  the  College,  Dr.  Routh,  the  last  man  who 
ever  wore  a  wig  in  Oxford,  a  man  who  had  himself  seen  Dr.  Johnson 


08035 


INTRODUCTION. 


Stand  in  the  High  Street  with  one  foot  on  either  side  of  the  kennel 
that  ran  down  the  middle  of  the  way,  the  street  boys  standing 
round,  "none  daring  to  interrupt  the  meditations  of  the  great 
lexicographer."  "You  are  a  clever  boy,"  said  the  old  man  as  he 
gave  the  prize  and  shook  him  by  the  hand. 

His  curiosity  soon  carried  him  beyond  Oxford  ;  and  in  very  early 
days  he  learned  to  wander  on  Saints'  days  and  holidays  to  the 
churches  of  neighbouring  villages,  and  there  shut  himself  in  to  rub 
brasses  and  study  architectural  mouldings.  Other  interests  followed 
on  his  ecclesiastical  training.  He  remembered  the  excitement  which 
was  produced  in  Oxford  by  Layard's  discovery  of  the  Nestorians  in 
the  Euphrates  valley.  One  day  Mr.  Ramsay  gathered  round  him  the 
boys  who  were  at  play  in  Magdalen  Walk  and  told  them  of  his 
journey  to  see  these  people  ;  and  one  at  least  of  his  hearers  plunged 
eagerly  into  problems  then  much  discussed  of  the  relations  of 
orthodox  believers  to  Monophysites,  and  the  distinctions  between 
heresy  and  schism,  questions  which  occupied  him  many  years. 
Knowledge  of  this  kind,  he  said  long  afterwards,  had  been  a  real  gain 
to  him.  "  The  study  of  what  the  Monophysites  did  in  Syria,  and 
the'Monothelites  in  Egypt,  has  taught  me  what  few  historians  know 
— the  intimate  part  religion  plays  in  a  nation's  history,  and  how 
closely  it  joins  itself  to  a  people's  life." 

Living  in  a  strictly  Conservative  atmosphere,  he  had  been  ver)- 
diligently  brought  up  as  a  Tory  and  a  High  Churchman.  But  when 
he  was  about  fourteen,  orthodox  Conservatism  and  school  life  came 
to  a  close  which  then  seemed  to  him  very  tragic.  A  school  essay 
was  set  on  Charles  the  First ;  and  as  the  boy  read  earnestly  every 
book  he  could  find  on  the  subject,  it  suddenly  burst  on  him  that 
Charles  was  wrong.  The  essay,  written  with  a  great  deal  of  feeling 
under  this  new  and  strong  conviction,  gained  the  prize  over  the  heads 
of  boys  older  and  till  then  reputed  abler ;  but  it  drew  down  on  him 
unmeasured  disapproval.  Canon  Mozley,  who  examined,  remonstrated 
in  his  grave  way :  "  Your  essay  is  very  good,  but  remember  I  do  not 
agree  with  your  conclusions,  and  you  will  in  all  probability  see  reason 
to  change  them  as  you  grow  older."  The  head-master  took  a  yet  more 
severe  view  of  such  a  change  of  political  creed.     But  the  impulse 


INTRODUCTION. 


to  Liberalism  had  been  definitely  given ;  and  had  indeed  brought 
with  it  many  other  grave  questionings.  When  at  the  next  examina- 
tion he  shot  up  to  the  head  of  the  school,  his  master  advised  that  he 
should  be  withdrawn  from  Magdalen,  to  the  dismay  both  of  himself 
and  of  the  uncle  with  whom  he  lived.  The  uncle  indeed  had  his  own 
grounds  of  alarm.  John  had  one  day  stood  at  a  tailor's  window  in 
Oxford  where  Lord  John  Russell's  Durham  Letter  was  spread  out  to 
view,  and,  as  he  read  it,  had  come  to  his  own  conclusions  as  to  its 
wisdom.  He  even  declared  the  Ecclesiastical  Titles  Act  to  be 
absurd.  His  uncle,  horrified  at  so  extreme  a  heresy,  with  angry 
decision  ordered  him  to  find  at  once  another  home  ;  and  when  after 
a  time  the  agitation  had  died  away  and  he  was  allowed  to  come 
back,  it  was  on  the  condition  of  never  again  alluding  to  so  painful 
a  subject.  The  new-found  errors  clung  to  him,  however,  when  he 
went  shortly  afterwards  to  live  in  the  country  with  a  tutor.  "  I 
wandered  about  the  fields  thinking,"  he  said,  "  but  I  never  went 
back  from  the  opinions  I  had  begun  to  form." 

It  was  when  he  was  about  sixteen  that  Gibbon  fell  into  his 
hands ;  and  from  that  moment  the  enthusiasm  of  history  took  hold 
of  him.  "  Man  and  man's  history  "  became  henceforth  the  dominant 
interest  of  his  life.  When  he  returned  to  Oxford  with  a  scholarship 
to  Jesus  College,  an  instinct  of  chivalrous  devotion  inspired  his 
resolve  that  the  study  of  history  should  never  become  with  him 
"a  matter  of  classes  or  fellowships,"  nor  should  be  touched  by  the 
rivalries,  the  conventional  methods,  the  artificial  limitations,  and 
the  utilitarian  aims  of  the  Schools.  College  work  and  history  work 
went  on  apart,  with  much  mental  friction  and  difficulty  of  adjust- 
ment and  sorrow  of  heart.  Without  any  advisers,  almost  without 
friends,  he  groped  his  way,  seeking  in  very  solitary  fashion  after  his 
own  particular  vocation.  His  first  historical  efforts  were  spent  on 
that  which  lay  immediately  about  him  ;  and  the  series  of  papers  which 
he  sent  at  this  time  to  the  Oxford  Chronicle  on  "  Oxford  in  the  last 
Century"  are  instinct  with  all  the  vivid  imagination  of  his  later  work, 
and  tell  their  tale  after  a  method  and  in  a  style  which  was  already 
perfectly  natural  to  him.  He  read  enormously,  but  history  was 
never  to  him  wholly  a  matter  of  books.     The  Town  was  still  his 


wm  INTRODUCTION. 


teacher.  There  was  then  little  help  to  be  had  for  the  history  of 
Oxford  or  any  other  town.  "  So  wholly  had  the  story  of  the  towns," 
he  wrote  later,  "  passed  out  of  the  minds  of  men  that  there  is  still 
not  a  history  of  our  country  which  devotes  a  single  page  to  it,  and 
there  is  hardly  an  antiquary  who  has  cared  to  disentomb  the  tragic 
records  of  fights  fought  for  freedom  in  this  narfow  theatre  from 
the  archives  which  still  contain  them.  The  treatise  of  Brady  written 
from  a  political,  that  of  Madox  from  a  narrow  antiquarian,  point  of 
view ;  the  summaries  of  charters  given  by  the  Commissioners  under 
the  Municipal  Reform  Act ;  the  volumes  of  Stephens  and  Mere- 
wether  ;  and  here  and  there  a  little  treatise  on  isolated  towns  are  the 
only  printed  materials  for  the  study  of  the  subject."  Other  materials 
were  abundant.  St.  Giles'  Fair  was  full  of  lessons  for  him.  He 
has  left  an  amusing  account  of  how,  on  a  solemn  day  which  came 
about  once  in  eight  years,  he  marched  with  Mayor  and  Corporation 
round  the  city  boundaries.  He  lingered  over  the  memory  of  St. 
Martin's  Church,  the  centre  of  the  town  life,  the  folk-mote  within 
its  walls,  the  low  shed  outside  where  mayor  and  bailiff  administered 
justice,  the  bell  above  which  rang  out  its  answer  to  the  tocsin  of 
the  gownsmen  in  St.  Mary's,  the  butchery  and  spicery  and  vintnery 
which  clustered  round  in  the  narrow  streets.  "  In  a  walk  through 
Oxford  one  may  find  illustrations  of  every  period  of  our  annals. 
The  cathedral  still  preserves  the  memory  of  the  Mercian  St.  Frides- 
wide ;  the  tower  of  the  Norman  Earls  frowns  down  on  the  waters 
of  the  Mill ;  around  Merton  hang  the  memories  of  the  birth  of  our 
Constitution  ;  the  New  Learning  and  the  Reformation  mingle  in 
Christ  Church  ;  a  *  grind '  along  the  Marston  Road  follows  the  track 
of  the  army  of  Fairfax ;  the  groves  of  Magdalen  preserve  the  living 
traditions  of  the  last  of  the  Stewarts." 

Two  years,  however,  of  solitary  effort  to  work  out  problems  of 
education,  of  life,  of  history,  left  him  somewhat  disheartened  and 
bankrupt  in  energy.  A  mere  accident  at  last  brought  the  first  counsel 
and  encouragement  he  had  ever  known.  Some  chance  led  him  one 
day  to  the  lecture-room  where  Stanley,  then  Canon  of  Christ  Church, 
was  speaking  on  the  history  of  Dissent.  Startled  out  of  the  in- 
difference with  which  he  had  entered  the  room,  he  suddenly  found 


INTRODUCTION. 


himself  listening  with  an  interest  and  wonder  which  nothing  in 
Oxford  had  awakened,  till  the  lecturer  closed  with  the  words, 
^^^  Magna  est  Veritas  et  prcevalebit,'  words  so  great  that  I  could 
almost  prefer  them  to  the  motto  of  our  own  University,  '  Dominus 
illuminatio  mea.' "  In  his  excitement  he  exclaimed,  as  Stanley, 
on  leaving  the  hall,  passed  close  by  him,  "  Do  you  know,  sir,  that 
the  words  you  quoted,  'Magna  est  Veritas  et  prcevalebit,'  are  the 
motto  of  the  Town  ?  "  "  Is  it  possible  ?  How  interesting !  When 
will  you  come  and  see  me  and  talk  about  it  ?  "  cried  Stanley ;  and 
from  that  moment  a  warm  friendship  sprang  up.  "  Then  and  after," 
iAr.  Green  wrote,  "  I  heard  you  speak  of  work,  not  as  a  thing  of 
classes  and  fellowships,  but  as  something  worthy  for  its  own  sake, 
worthy  because  it  made  us  like  the  great  Worker.  '  If  you  cannot 
or  will  not  work  at  the  work  which  Oxford  gives  you,  at  any  rate 
work  at  something.'  I  took  up  my  old  boy-dreams  of  history  again. 
I  think  I  have  been  a  steady  worker  ever  since." 

It  was  during  these  years  at  Oxford  that  his  first  large  historical 
schemes  were  laid.  His  plan  took  the  shape  of  a  History  of  the  Arch- 
bishops of  Canterbury  ;  and  seeking  in  Augustine  and  his  followers  a 
clue  through  the  maze  of  fifteen  centuries,  he  proposed  under  this  title 
to  write  in  fact  the  whole  story  of  Christian  civilization  in  England. 
"  No  existing  historians  help  me,"  he  declared  in  his  early  days  of 
planning ;  "  rather  I  have  been  struck  by  the  utter  blindness  of  one 
and  all  to  the  subject  which  they  profess  to  treat — the  national  growth 
and  developement  of  our  country."  When  in  i860  he  left  Oxford 
for  the  work  he  had  chosen  as  curate  in  one  of  the  poorest  parishes 
of  East  London,  he  carried  with  him  thoughts  of  history.  Letters 
full  of  ardent  discussion  of  the  theological  and  social  problems  about 
him  still  tell  of  hours  saved  here  and  there  for  the  British  Museum,  of 
work  done  on  Cuthbert,  on  Columba,  on  Irish  Church  History — of  a 
scheme  for  a  history  of  Somerset,  which  bid  fair  to  extend  far,  and 
which  led  direct  to  Glastonbury,  Dunstan,  and  Early  English  matters. 
Out  of  his  poverty,  too,  he  had  gathered  books  about  him,  books 
won  at  a  cost  which  made  them  the  objects  of  a  singular  affection  ; 
and  he  never  opened  a  volume  of  his  "  Acta  Sanctorum  "  without 
a  lingering  memory  of  the  painful  efforts  by  which  he  had  brought 


INTRODUCTION. 


together  the  volumes  one  by  one,  and  how  many  days  he  had  gone 
without  dinner  when  there  was  no  other  way  of  buying  them. 

But  books  were  not  his  only  sources  of  knowledge.  To  the  last 
he  looked  on  his  London  life  as  having  given  him  his  best  lessons  in 
history.  It  was  with  his  churchwardens,  his  schoolmasters,  in  vestry 
meetings,  in  police  courts,  at  boards  of  guardians,  in  service  in  chapel 
or  church,  in  the  daily  life  of  the  dock-labourer,  the  tradesman,  the 
costermonger,  in  the  summer  visitation  of  cholera,  in  the  winter  misery 
that  followed  economic  changes,  that  he  learnt  what  the  life  of  the 
people  meant  as  perhaps  no  historian  had  ever  learnt  it  before.  Con- 
stantly struck  down  as  he  was  by  illness,  even  the  days  of  sickness  were 
turned  to  use.  Every  drive,  every  railway  journey,  every  town  he 
passed  through  in  brief  excursions  for  health's  sake,  added  something 
to  his  knowledge  ;  if  he  was  driven  to  recover  strength  to  a  seaside 
lodging  he  could  still  note  a  description  of  Ebbsfleet  or  Richborough 
or  Minster,  so  that  there  is  scarcely  a  picture  of  scenery  or  of  geo- 
graphical conditions  in  his  book  which  is  not  the  record  of  a  victory 
over  the  overwhelming  languor  of  disease. 

After  two  years  of  observation,  of  reading,  and  of  thought,  the 
Archbishops  no  longer  seemed  very  certain  guides  through  the 
centuries  of  England's  growth.  They  filled  the  place,  it  would 
appear,  no  better  than  the  Kings.  If  some  of  them  were  great 
leaders  among  the  people,  others  were  of  little  account ;  and  after 
the  sixteenth  century  the  upgrowth  of  the  Nonconformists  broke 
the  history  of  the  people,  taken  from  the  merely  ecclesiastical  point 
of  view,  into  two  irreconcilable  fractions,  and  utterly  destroyed  any 
possibility  of  artistic  treatment  of  the  story  as  a  whole.  In  a  new 
plan  he  looked  far  behind  Augustine  and  Canterbury,  and  threw 
himself  into  geology,  the  physical  geography  of  our  island  in  pre- 
historic times,  and  the  study  of  the  cave-men  and  the  successive  races 
that  peopled  Britain,  as  introductory  to  the  later  history  of  England. 
But  his  first  and  dominating  idea  quickly  thrust  all  others  aside.  It 
was  of  the  English  People  itself  that  he  must  write  if  he  would  write 
after  his  own  heart.  The  nine  years  spent  in  the  monotonous  reaches 
of  dreary  streets  that  make  up  Hoxton  and  Stepney,  the  close  con- 
tact with  sides  of  life  little  known  to  students,  had  only  deepened  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


impressions  with  which  the  idea  of  a  people's  life  had  in  Oxford  struck 
on  his  imagination.  "  A  State,"  he  would  say,  "  is  accidental ;  it  can 
be  made  or  unmade,  and  is  no  real  thing  to  me.  But  a  nation  is  very 
real  to  me.  That  you  can  neither  make  nor  destroy."  All  his  writings, 
the  historical  articles  which  he  sent  to  the  Saturday  Review  and  letters 
to  his  much-honoured  friend,  Mr.  Freeman,  alike  tended  in  the  same 
direction,  and  show  how  persistently  he  was  working  out  his  philosophy 
of  history.  The  lessons  which  years  before  he  had  found  written  in  the 
streets  and  lanes  of  his  native  town  were  not  forgotten.  "  History," 
he  wrote  in  1869,  "we  are  told  by  publishers,  is  the  most  unpopular  of 
all  branches  of  literature  at  the  present  day,  but  it  is  only  unpopular 
because  it  seems  more  and  more  to  sever  itself  from  all  that  can  touch 
the  heart  of  a  people.  In  mediaeval  history,  above  all,  the  narrow 
ecclesiastical  character  of  the  annals  which  serve  as  its  base,  instead 
of  being  corrected  by  a  wider  research  into  the  memorials  which  sur- 
round us,  has  been  actually  intensified  by  the  partial  method  of  thei) 
study,  till  the  story  of  a  great  people  seems  likely  to  be  lost  in  the 
mere  squabbles  of  priests.  Now  there  is  hardly  a  better  corrective 
for  all  this  to  be  found  than  to  set  a  man  frankly  in  the  streets  of  a 
simple  English  town,  and  to  bid  him  work  out  the  history  of  the  men 
who  had  lived  and  died  there.  The  mill  by  the  stream,  the  tolls  in 
the  market  place,  the  brasses  of  its  burghers  in  the  church,  the 
names  of  its  streets,  the  lingering  memory  of  its  guilds,  the  mace  of  its 
mayor,  tell  us  more  of  the  past  of  England  than  the  spire  of  Sarum 
or  the  martyrdom  of  Canterbury.  We  say  designedly  of  the  past  ol 
England,  rather  than  of  the  past  of  English  towns.  ...  In  England 
the  history  of  the  town  and  of  the  country  are  one.  The  privilege  ot 
the  burgher  has  speedily  widened  into  the  liberty  of  the  people  at 
large.  The  municipal  charter  has  merged  into"  the  great  charter  ot 
the  realm.  All  the  little  struggles  over  toll  and  tax,  all  the  little 
claims  of  '  custom '  and  franchise,  have  told  on  the  general  advance 
of  liberty  and  law.  The  townmotes  of  the  Norman  reigns  tided  free 
discussion  and  self-government  over  from  the  Witanagemot  of  the  old 
England  to  the  Parliament  of  the  new.  The  hustitig  court,  with  its 
resolute  assertion  of  justice  by  one's  peers,  gave  us  the  whole  fabric 
of  our  judicial  legislation.    The  Continental  town  lost  its  individuality 


INTRODUCTION. 


by  sinking  to  the  servile  level  of  the  land  from  which  it  had  isolated 
itself.  The  English  town  lost  its  individuality  by  lifting  the  country 
at  large  to  its  own  level  of  freedom  and  law." 

The  earnestness,  however,  with  which  he  had  thrown  himself  into 
his  parish  work  left  no  time  for  any  thought  of  working  out  his 
cherished  plans.  His  own  needs  were  few,  and  during  nearly  three 
years  he  spent  on  the  necessities  of  schools  and  of  the  poor  more 
than  the  whole  of  the  income  he  drew  from  the  Church,  while  he 
provided  for  his  own  support  by  writing  at  night,  after  his  day's 
work  was  done,  articles  for  the  Saturday  Review.  At  last,  in 
1869,  the  disease  which  had  again  and  again  attacked  him  fell 
with  renewed  violence  on  a  frame  exhausted  with  labours  and 
anxieties.  All  active  work  was  for  ever  at  an  end — the  doctors 
told  him  there  was  little  hope  of  prolonging  his  life  six  months. 
It  was  at  this  moment,  the  first  moment  of  leisure  he  had  ever 
known,  that  he  proposed  ''to  set  down  a  few  notions  which 
I  have  conceived  concerning  history,"  which  "  might  serve  as  an 
introduction  to  better  things  if  I  lived,  and  might  stand  for  some 
work  done  if  I  did  not."  The  "Short  History"  was  thus  begun. 
When  the  six  months  had  passed  he  had  resisted  the  first  severity 
of  the  attack,  but  he  remained  with  scarcely  a  hold  on  life  ;  and 
incessantly  vexed  by  the  suffering  and  exhaustion  of  constant  ill- 
ness, perplexed  by  questions  as  to  the  mere  means  of  livelihood, 
thwarted  and  hindered  "by  difficulties  about  books  in  the  long  winters 
abroad,  he  still  toiled  on  at  his  task.  "  I  wonder,"  he  said  once  in 
answer  to  some  critic,  "  how  in  those  years  of  physical  pain  and 
despondency  I  could  ever  have  written  the  book  at  all."  Nearly 
five  years  were  given  to  the  work.  The  sheets  were  written 
and  re-written,  corrected  and  cancelled  and  begun  again  till  it 
seemed  as  though  revision  would  never  have  an  end.  "The 
book  is  full  of  faults,"  he  declared  sorrowfully,  "which  make 
me  almost  hopeless  of  ever  learning  to  write  well."  As  the  work 
went  on  his  friends  often  remonstrated  with  much  energy.  Dean 
Stanley  could  not  forgive  its  missing  so  dramatic  an  opening  as  Caesar's 
landing  would  have  afforded.  Others  judged  severely  his  style,  his 
method,  his  view  of  history,  his   selection   and   rejection   of  facts. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Their  judgement  left  him  "  lonely,"  he  said ;  and  with  the  sensitive- 
ness of  the  artistic  nature,  its  quick  apprehension  of  unseen  danger, 
its  craving  for  sympathy,  he  saw  with  perhaps  needless  clearness  of 
vision  the  perils  to  his  chance  of  winning  a  hearing  which  were  pro- 
phesied. He  agreed  that  the  "  faults "  with  which  he  was  charged 
might  cause  the  ruin  of  his  hopes  of  being  accepted  either  by  historians 
or  by  the  public ;  and  yet  these  very  "  faults,"  he  insisted,  were  bound 
up  with  his  faith.  The  book  was  in  fact,  if  not  in  name,  the  same 
as  that  which  he  had  planned  at  Oxford ;  to  correct  its  "  faults  " 
he  must  change  his  whole  conception  of  history  ;  he  must  renounce 
his  belief  that  it  was  the  great  impulses  of  national  feeling,  and 
not  the  policy  of  statesmen,  that  formed  the  ground-work  and  basis 
of  the  history  of  nations,  and  his  certainty  that  poHtical  history 
could  only  be  made  intelligible  and  just  by  basing  it  on  social 
history  in  its  largest   sense. 

"  I  may  be  wrong  in  my  theories,"  he  wrote,  "  but  it  is  better  for 
me  to  hold  to  what  I  think  true,  and  to  work  it  out  as  I  best  can, 
even  if  I  work  it  out  badly,  than  to  win  the  good  word  of  some  people 
I  respect  and  others  I  love  "  by  giving  up  a  real  conviction.  Amid 
all  his  fears  as  to  the  failings  of  his  work  he  still  clung  to  the 
belief  that  it  went  on  the  old  traditional  lines  of  English  historians. 
However  Gibbon  might  err  in  massing  together  his  social  facts  in 
chapters  apart,  however  inadequate  Hume's  attempts  at  social  history 
might  be,  however  Macaulay  might  look  at  social  facts  merely  as 
bits  of  external  ornament,  they  all,  he  maintained,  professed  the  faith 
he  held.  He  used  to  protest  that  even  those  English  historians  who 
desired  to  be  merely  "  external  and  pragmatic  "  could  not  altogether 
reach  their  aim  as  though  they  had  been  "  High  Dutchmen."  The 
free  current  of  national  life  in  England  was  too  strong  to  allow 
them  to  become  ever  wholly  lost  in  State-papers ;  and  because  he 
believed  that  Englishmen  could  therefore  best  combine  the  love  of 
accuracy  and  the  appreciation  of  the  outer  aspects  of  national  or 
political  life  with  a  perception  of  the  spiritual  forces  from  which  these 
mere  outer  phenomena  proceed,  he  never  doubted  that  "  the  English 
ideal  of  history  would  in  the  long  run  be  what  Gibbon  made  it  in 
his  day— the  first  in  the  world." 

When    at    last,  by    a    miracle    of  resolution    and    endurance,   the 


jrit  INTRODUCTION. 


"Short  History"  was  finished,  discouraging  reports  reached  him 
from  critics  whose  judgement  he  respected ;  and  his  despondency 
increased  **  Never  mind,  you  mayn't  succeed  this  time,"  said  one 
of  his  best  friends,  "  but  you  are  sure  to  succeed  some  day."  He 
never  forgoi  that  in  this  time  of  depression  there  were  two  friends, 
Mr.  Stopford  Brooke  and  his  pubHsher,  who  were  unwavering  in 
their  belief  in  his  work  and  in  hopefulness  of  the  result. 

The  book  was  published  in  1874,  when  he  was  little  more  than  36 
years  of  age.  Before  a  month  was  over,  in  the  generous  welcome 
given  it  by  scholars  and  by  the  English  people,  he  found  the  reward  of 
his  long  endurance.  Mr.  Green  in  fact  was  the  first  English  historian 
who  had  either  conceived  or  written  of  English  history  from  the  side 
of  the  principles  which  his  book  asserted  ;  and  in  so  doing  he  had 
given  to  his  fellow-citizens  such  a  story  of  their  Commonwealth  as 
has  in  fact  no  parallel  in  any  other  country.  The  opposition  and 
criticism  which  he  met  with  were  in  part  a  measure  of  the  originality 
of  his  conception.  Success,  however,  and  criticism  alike  came  to 
him  as  they  come  to  the  true  scholar.  "  I  know,"  he  said  in  this 
first  moment  of  unexpected  recognition,  "  what  men  will  say  of  me, 
♦He  died  learning.'" 

I  know  of  no  excuse  which  I  could  give  for  attempting  any 
revision  of  the  "  Short  History,"  save  that  this  was  my  husband's  last 
charge  to  me.  Nor  can  I  give  any  other  safeguard  for  the  way  in 
which  I  have  performed  the  work  than  the  sincere  and  laborious 
effort  I  have  made  to  carry  out  that  charge  faithfully.  I  have  been 
very  careful  not  to  interfere  in  any  way  with  the  plan  or  structure 
of  the  book,  and  save  in  a  few  exceptional  cases,  in  which  I  knew 
Mr.  Green's  wishes,  or  where  a  change  of  chronology  made  some 
slight  change  in  arrangement  necessary,  I  have  not  altered  its  order. 
My  work  has  been  rather  that  of  correcting  mistakes  of  detail  which 
must  of  a  certainty  occur  in  a  story  which  covers  so  vast  a  field  ; 
and  in  this  I  have  been  mainly  guided  throughout  by  the  work  of 
revision  done  by  Mr.  Green  himself  in  his  larger  "  History."  In 
this  History  he  had  at  first  proposed  merely  to  prepare  a  library 
edition  of  the  "Short  History"  revised  and  corrected.  In  his  hands, 
however,  it  became  a  wholly  different  book,  the  chief  part  of  it  having 


INTRODUCTION. 


been  re-written  at  much  greater  length,  and  on  an  altered  plan.  I  have 
therefore  only  used  its  corrections  within  very  definite  limits,  so  far 
as  they  could  be  adapted  to  a  book  of  different  scope  and  arrange- 
ment. Though  since  his  death  much  has  been  written  on  English 
History,  his  main  conclusions  may  be  regarded  as  established,  and  I 
do  not  think  they  would  have  been  modified,  save  in  a  few  cases  of 
detail,  even  by  such  books  as  the  last  two  volumes  of  the  Bishop  of 
Chester's  "Constitutional  History,"  and  his  "Lectures  on  Modem 
History  "  ;  Mr.  Gardiner's  later  volumes  on  Charles's  reign,  and  Mr. 
Skene's  later  volumes  on  "Early  Scottish  History."  In  his  own 
judgement,  severely  as  he  judged  himself,  the  errors  in  the  "Short 
History  "  were  not  the  mistakes  that  show  a  real  mis-reading  of  this 
or  that  period,  or  betray  an  unhistoric  mode  of  looking  at  things  as 
a  whole  ;  nor  has  their  correction  in  fact  involved  any  serious  change. 
In  some  passages,  even  where  I  knew  that  Mr.  Green's  own  criticism 
went  far  beyond  that  of  any  of  his  critics,  I  have  not  felt  justified 
in  making  any  attempt  to  expand  or  re-write  what  could  only  have 
been  re-written  by  himself.  In  other  matters  which  have  been  the 
subject  of  comments  of  some  severity,  the  grounds  of  his  own- 
decision  remained  unshaken;  as  for  example,  the  scanty  part 
played  by  Literature  after  1660,  which  Mr.  Green  regretted  he  had  not 
explained  in  his  first  preface.  It  was  necessary  that  the  book  should 
be  brought  to  an  end  in  about  eight  hundred  pages.  Something 
must  needs  be  left  out,  and  he  deliberately  chose  Literature,  because 
it  seemed  to  him  that  after  1660  Literature  ceased  to  stand  in  the 
fore-front  of  national  characteristics,  and  that  Science,  Industry,  and 
the  like,  played  a  much  greater  part.  So  "  for  truth's  sake  "  he  set 
aside  a  strong  personal  wish  to  say  much  that  was  in  his  mind  on  the 
great  writers  of  later  times,  and  turned  away  to  cotton-spinning  and 
Pitt's  finance.  "  It  cost  me  much  trouble,"  he  said,  "  and  I  knew 
the  book  would  not  be  so  bright,  but  I  think  I  did  rightly." 

It  was  in  this  temper  that  all  his  work  was  done ;  and  I  would 
only  add  a  few  words  which  I  value  more  especially,  because  they 
tell  how  the  sincerity,  the  patient  self-denial,  the  earnestness  of 
purpose,  that  underlay  all  his  vivid  activity  were  recognized  by  one 
who  was  ever  to  him  a  master  in  English  History,  the  Bishop 
of  Chester.       "Mr.    Green,"    he   wrote,    "possessed   in   no   scanty 


xTi  INTRODUCilOAN. 


measure  all  the  gifts  that  contribute  to  the  making  of  a  great  his- 
torian. He  combined,  so  far  as  the  history  of  England  is  concerned, 
a  complete  and  firm  grasp  of  the  subject  in  its  unity  and  integrity 
with  a  wonderful  command  of  details,  and  a  thorough  sense  of  per- 
spective and  proportion.  All  his  work  was  real  and  original  work ; 
few  people  besides  those  who  knew  him  well  would  see  under  the 
charming  ease  and  vivacity  of  his  style  the  deep  research  and  sus- 
tained industry  of  the  laborious  student.  But  it  was  so ;  there  was 
no  department  of  our  national  records  that  he  had  not  studied  and, 
I  think  I  may  say,  mastered.  Hence  I  think  the  unity  of  his 
dramatic  scenes  and  the  cogency  of  his  historical  arguments.  Like 
other  people  he  made  mistakes  sometimes ;  but  scarcely  ever  does 
the  correction  of  his  mistakes  affect  either  the  essence  of  the  picture 
or  the  force  of  the  argument.  And  in  him  the  desire  of  stating  and 
pointing  the  truth  of  history  was  as  strong  as  the  wish  to  make  both 
his  pictures  and  his  arguments  telling  and  forcible.  He  never  treated 
an  opposing  view  with  intolerance  or  contumely;  his  handling  of 
controversial  matter  was  exemplary.  And  then,  to  add  still  more  to 
the  debt  we  owe  him,  there  is  the  wonderful  simplicity  and  beauty 
of  the  way  in  which  he  tells  his  tale,  which  more  than  anything  else 
has  served  to  make  English  history  a  popular,  and  as  it  ought  to  be, 
if  not  the  first,  at  least  the  second  study  of  all  Englishmen." 

I  have  to  thank  those  friends  of  Mr.  Green,  the  Bishop  of 
Chester,  Canon  Creighton,  Professor  Bryce,  and  Mr.  Lecky,  who,  out 
of  their  regard  for  his  memory,  have  made  it  a  pleasure  to  me  to 
ask  their  aid  and  counsel.  I  owe  a  special  gratitude  to  Professor 
Gardiner  for  a  ready  help  which  spared  no  trouble  and  counted  no 
cost,  and  for  the  rare  generosity  which  placed  at  my  disposal  the 
results  of  his  own  latest  and  unpublished  researches  into  such 
matters  as  the  pressing  of  recruits  for  the  New  Model,  and  the  origin 
of  the  term  Ironside  as  a  personal  epithet  of  Cromwell.  Mr.  Osmund 
Airy  has  very  kindly  given  me  valuable  suggestions  for  the  Restora- 
tion period ;  and  throughout  the  whole  work  Miss  Norgate  has 
rendered  services  which  the  most  faithful  aiid  affectionate  loyalty 
could  alone  have  prompted. 

AucB  S.  Grrkn. 


PREFACE    TO   THE    FIRST    EDITION. 


The  aim  of  the  following  work  is  defined  by  its  title ;  it  is  a  history, 
not  of  English  Kings  or  English  Conquests,  but  of  the  English 
People.  At  the  risk  of  sacrificing  much  that  was  interesting  and 
attractive  in  itself,  and  which  the  constant  usage  of  our  historians 
has  made  familiar  to  English  readers,  I  have  preferred  to  pass  lightly 
and  briefly  over  the  details  of  foreign  wars  and  diplomacies,  the 
personal  adventures  of  kings  and  nobles,  the  pomp  of  courts,  or  the 
intrigues  of  favourites,  and  to  dwell  at  length  on  the  incidents  of 
that  constitutional,  intellectual,  and  social  advance  in  which  we  read 
the  history  of  the  nation  itself  It  is  with  this  purpose  that  I  have 
devoted  more  space  to  Chaucer  than  to  Cressy,  to  Caxton  than  to 
the  petty  strife  of  Yorkist  and  Lancastrian,  to  the  Poor  Law  of 
Elizabeth  than  to  her  victory  at  Cadiz,  to  the  Methodist  revival 
than  to  the  escape  of  the  Young  Pretender. 

Whatever  the  worth  of  the  present  work  may  be,  I  have  striven 
throughout  that  it  should  never  sink  into  a  "drum  and  trumpet 
history."  It  is  the  reproach  of  historians  that  they  have  too  often 
turned  history  into  a  mere  record  of  the  butchery  of  men  by  their 
fellow-men.  But  war  plays  a  small  part  in  the  real  story  of  European 
nations,  and  in  that  of  England  its  part  is  smaller  than  in  any.  The 
only  war  which  has  profoundly  affected  English  society  and  English 
government  is  the  Hundred  Years'  War  with  France,  and  of  that 


xviii^  PREFACE. 

war  the  results  were  simply  evil  If  I  have  said  little  of  the  glories 
of  Cressy,  it  is  because  I  have  dwelt  much  on  the  wrong  and  misery 
which  prompted  the  verse  of  Longland  and  the  preaching  of  Ball 
But  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  never  shrunk  from  telling  at  length 
the  triumphs  of  peace.  I  have  restored  to  their  place  among  the 
achievements  of  Englishmen  the  "  Faerie  Queen  "  and  the  "  Novum 
Organum."  I  have  set  Shakspere  among  the  heroes  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan age,  and  placed  the  scientific  inquiries  of  the  Royal  Society 
side  by  side  with  the  victories  of  the  New  Model.  If  some  of  the 
conventional  figures  of  military  and  political  history  occupy  in 
my  pages  less  than  the  space  usually  given  them,  it  is  because  I 
have  had  to  find  a  place  for  figures  little  heeded  in  common  history 
— the  figures  of  the  missionary,  the  poet,  the  printer,  the  merchant, 
or  the  philosopher. 

In  England,  more  than  elsewhere,  constitutional  progress  has 
been  the  result  of  social  development.  In  a  brief  summary  of  our 
history  such  as  the  present,  it  was  impossible  to  dwell  as  I  could 
have  wished  to  dwell  on  every  phase  of  this  development ;  but 
I  have  endeavoured  to  point  out,  at  great  crises,  such  as  those  of 
the  Peasant  Revolt  or  the  Rise  of  the  New  Monarchy,  how  much 
of  our  political  history  is  the  outcome  of  social  changes ;  and 
throughout  I  have  drawn  greater  attention  to  the  religious,  intel- 
lectual, and  industrial  progress  of  the  nation  itself  than  has,  so  far 
as  I  remember,  ever  been  done  in  any  previous  history  of  the 
same  extcn;. 

The  scale  of  the  present  work  has  hindered  me  from  giving  in 
detail  the  authorities  for  every  statement.  But  I  have  prefixed  to 
each  section  a  short  critical  account  of  the  chief  contemporary  autho- 
rities for  the  period  it  represents  as  well  as  of  the  m'>st  useful  modem 
works  in  which  it  can  be  studied.  As  I  am  writing  for  English 
readers  of  a  general  class  I  have  thought  it  better  to  restrict  myself 
in  the  latter  case  to  English  books,  or  to  English  translations  of 
foreign  works  where  they  exist  This  is  a  rule  which  I  have  only 
broken  in  the  occasional  mention  of  French  books,  such  as  those 
of  Guizot  or  Mignet,  well  known  and  within  reach  of  ordinary 
students.  I  greatly  regret  that  the  publication  of  the  first  volume 
of  the  invaUiable  Constitutional  History  of  Professor  Stubbs  came 


PREFACE. 


too  late  for  me  to  use  it  in  my  account  of  those  early  periods  on 
which  it  has  thrown  so  great  a  light. 

I  am  only  too  conscious  of  the  faults  and  oversights  in  a  work, 
much  of  which  has  been  written  in  hours  of  weakness  and  ill  health. 
That  its  imperfections  are  not  greater  than  they  are,  I  owe  to  the 
kindness  of  those  who  have  from  time  to  time  aided  me  with  sugges- 
tions and  corrections ;  and  especially  to  my  dear  friend  Mr.  E.  A. 
Freeman,  who  has  never  tired  of  helping  me  with  counsel  and 
criticism.  Thanks  for  like  friendly  help  are  due  to  Professor  Stubbs 
and  Professor  Bryce,  and  in  literary  matters  to  the  Rev.  Stopford 
Brooke,  whose  wide  knowledge  and  refined  taste  have  been  of  the 
greatest  service  to  me.  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Miss 
Thompson  for  permission  to  use  the  Genealogical  Tables  prefixed 
to  my  work,  and  to  Mr.  Freeman  for  a  like  permission  to  use  some 
of  the  maps  in  his  "  Old  English  History." 

The  Chronological  Annals  which  precede  the  text  will,  I  trust, 
be  useful  in  the  study  of  those  periods  where  the  course  of  my 
story  has  compelled  me  to  neglect  the  strict  chronological  order 
of  succession.  In  using  this  book  as  a  school  book,  both  teacher 
and  scholar  would  do  well  to  study  them  side  by  side  with  the 
text 


CONTENTS 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS xxi — XXxii 

GENEALOGICAL  TABLES .      xxxiii — xlvii 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ENGLISH   KINGDOMS,   607— IOI3. 

S^a.  I. — Britain  and  the  English 5 

„    2. — The  English  Conquest,  449 — 577 7 

,,    3. —The  Norihumbrian  Kingdom,  588 — 685 16 

„    4.— The  Three  Kingdoms,  685— 828 36 

>i    5- — Wessex  and  the  Danes,  802—880 44 

„    6. — The  West-Saxon  Realm,  893—1013 S3 


CHAPTER  II. 

ENGLAND    UNDER   FOREIGN    KINGS,   IOI3 — I2O4. 

Sect.  I.— The  Danish  Kings,  1013— 1042 63 

,,    2.— The  English  Restoration,  1042 — 1066 67 

„    3. — Normandy  and  the  Normans,  912 — 1066 7' 

„    4. — The  Conqueror,  1042 — 1066 74 

„    5. — The  Norman  Conquest,  1068 — 107 1 81 

„    6.— The  English  Revival,  1071— 1127 87 

„    7. — England  and  Anjou,  870 — 1154 9^ 

„    8.— Henry  the  Second,  1154— 1189 104 

,,    9. — The  fall  of  the  Angevins,  1189— 12  4 112 


xvill  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

THE  GREAT   CHARTER,    I204 — 1 265. 

PAGB 

Sect  I. — English  Literature  nnderthe  Norman  and  Angevin  Kings  ....  117  X 

2.— John,  1204 — 1215 122 

3.— The  Great  Charter,  1215— 1217        128 

4.-^The  Universities      .  132    xf 

5.— Henry  the  Third,  1216 — 1257 141 

6. — The  Friars 147  ^ 

7.— The  Barons'  War,  1258—1265 152 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  THREE  EDWARDS,    1 265 — 136a 

Sect.  I.— The  Conquest  of  Wales,  1265— 1284 .161 

,,    2. — The  English  Parliament,  1283- -1295 109 

,,    3. — The  Conquest  of  Scotland,  1290 — 1305 181 

„    4.— T^lisJuii^ifilLlowns ^93  )\ 

,,    5. — The  King  and  the  Baronage.  1290 — 1327 201 

„    6. — The  Scotch  War  of  Independence,  1306— 1342 »ii 


/ 


Sect. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THI  HUNDRED  YEARS*  WAR,    I336— I43I. 

—Edward  the  Third,  1336— 1360 ai; 

— The  Good  Parliament,  1360—1377 231 

-  John  Wyclif •'.35  .K^ 

—The  Peasant  Revoj^l377— l.'<8l 244 

—Richard  the  Second,  1 381— 1399 255 

—The  House  of  Lancaster,  1399 — 1422  .  .  264 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


d 


THK    NEW    MONARCHY,    I422 — I54O. 

PAGE 

Sect.  I.— Joan  of  Arc,  1422 — 1451 271 

2. — The  Wars  of  the  Roses,  1450— 1471    .^ .  .281 

3. — The  New  Monarchy,  147 1 — 1509 288 

4.— TheNew.  Leajmog,  1509— 1520 303  J<^ 

5.— Wolsey,  1515—1531 320 

6. — Thomas  Cromwell,  1530— 1540 331 

CHAPTER  VII. 


L 


THE    REFORMATION. 

Sect.  I.— The  IJiatfiSUats,  1540— 1553 349 

„    2.— The  Martyrs,  i553— ^558 361 

^    3. —Elizabeth,   1558— 1560 369 

„    4.— England  and  Mary  Stuart,  1560— 1572       382 

„    5.— The  England  of  Elizabeth 392   \ 

,,    6.— The  Armada,  1572— 1588 405 

„    7.— The  Elizabethan  Poets 420  X 

^,    8.— The  Conquest  of  Ireland,  1588— 1610 442 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


Sect.  I.— 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 

7- 


PURITAN    ENGLAND. 

The  Puritans,  1583  — 1603 460 

The  First  of  the  Stuarts,  1604— 1623 474 

The  King  and  the  Parliament,  1623— 1629 493 

New  England 505 

The  Personal  Government,  1629 — 1640 5M 

The_Long  Parliament.  1640— 1644 534 

Tlie  Civil  War,  July  1642— August  1646  .        547 

•The  Army  and  the  Parliament,  1646— 1649 •    ■    •  559 

The  Commonwealth,  1649— 1653 ' .    .    .  572 

The  Fall  of  Puritanism,  1 653-^I66o "=82 


A 


Hi 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   REVOLUTION. 

PAGB 

Sect.  I. — England  and  the  Revolution 605 

„    2.— The  Restoration,  1660— 1667 616 

„    3.— Charles  the  Second,  1667— 1673 .    .  629 

„    4.— Danby,  1673— 1678  ...     • 642 

„    5.— Shaftesbury,  1679— 1682 652 

Q         „    6.— The  Second  Stuart  Tyranny,  1682— 1688 661 

7^.— William  of  Orange T^.    .  672 

,    8.— The  Grand  Alliance,  1689— 1697      684 

,    9. — Marlborough,  1698 — 1712 701 

,  10.— Walpole,  1712— 1742 720 

-      -       ^u 

CHAPTER   X. 


0 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 

Sect.  I.— William  Piti,  1742— 1762 735 

„    2. — The  Independence  of  America,  1 761 — 1782 .  757 

„    3.— The  Seccnd  Pitt,  1783—1793 7^6 

„    4.--The  War  with  France,  1793— 181 5 806 

Epilogue,  1815— 1873 837 


LIST  OF  MAPS. 

1.  England Fr»tt/. 

2.  Britain  in  the  midst  of  the  English  Conquest .12 

3.  England  in  the  Ninth  Century 44 

4.  Empire  of  the  Angevins 104 

5.  France  at  the  Treaty  of  Bretigny                                                       .    .  217 

6.  The  American  Colonies  in  1640 .  .    507 


CHRONOLOGICAL     ANNALS 


ENGLISH     HISTORY. 


THE   ENGLISH   KINGDOMS. 
449— 1016. 


English  land  in  Britain. 

Kent  conquered  by  English. 

Landing  of  South  Saxons. 

Siege  of  Anderida. 

Landing  of  West  Saxons. 

Cerdic  and   CynriC,  Kings  of  West 

Saxons. 
British  victory  at  Mount  Badon. 
Ida  founds  kingdom  of  Bemicia. 
West  Saxons  take  Old  Sarum. 
.ffithelberht,  King  of  Kent,  died  6i6. 

driven  back  by  West  Saxons. 

West  Saxons  march  into  Mid-Britain. 

conquer  at  Deorham. 

defeated  at  FaddUey. 

JEtbelriC  creates   Kingdom  of  North - 

umbria. 
Athelfrith,    King    of    Northumbria, 

died  617. 
Augustine  converts  Kent. 
Battle  of  Daegsastan. 
Battle  of  Chester. 
Ead'wine^  King  of  Northumbria,  died 

633- 

overlord  of  Britain. 

Penda,  King  of  the  Mercians,  died  655. 
Eadwine  becomes  Christian. 

slain  at  Hatfield. 

Os^raldj  King  of  Bemicia,  died  642, 

defeats  Welsh  at  Hevenfeld. 

Aidan  settles  at  Holy  Island. 
Conversion  of  Wessex. 


642      Oswald  slain  at  Maserfeld. 

651      Oswiu,  King  of  Northumbria,  died  670 

655      -! —  Victory  at  Winwaed. 

658  West  Saxons  conqaer  as  far  as  the  Parrel. 

659  Wulfhere  King  in  Mercia. 

661       drives  West  Saxons  over  Thames. 

664     Council  of  Whitby. 

Cadmon  at  Whitby. 
668      Theodore  made  A  rchbishop  ofCantetimry 
670     Ecgf rith,  King  of  Northumbria,  died  685. 
675     i  JEthelred,  King  of  Mercia,  died  704. 

681  Wilfrid  converts  South  Saxons. 

682  Centwine  of  Wessex  conquers  Mid-Somer- 

set. 
685      Ecgfrith  defeated  and  slain  at  Nectans- 

mere. 
688      Ine^  King  of  West  Saxons,  died  726. 

715      defeats  Ceolred  of  Mercia  at  Wan- 

borough. 

716  .ffithelbald.  King  of  Mercia,  died  757. 
733       Mercian  conquest  of  Wessex. 

735      Death  of  Bada. 

753  Death  of  Boniface. 

754  Wessex  recovers  freedom  in  battle  of  Bur* 

ford. 
756    j  Eadberht  of  Northumbria  takes  Alclujrd. 
758      Offa,  King  of  Mercia,  died  796. 

775      subdues  Kentish  men  at  Otford. 

779      defeats  West  Saxons  at  Bensingtoo. 

786      places  Beorhtric  on  throne  of  Wessex. 

787      creates  Archbishopric  at  Lichfield. 

First  landing  of  Danes  in  England. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


796 
802 

803 

808 

815 

881 
885 


887 
828 


837 

839  i 

849 

851 

853 

855 

857 

860 

866 

867 

868 

870 

871 

874. 
876 
877 
878 


883 


CenTTUlf,  King  of  Mercia,  died  821. 
Ecgrberht  becomes  King  in  Wessex,  died 

839- 

Cenwulf  suppresses  Archbishopric  of  Lich* 
field. 

Charles  the  Great  restores  Eardwulf  in 
Northumbria. 

Ecgbeilit  subdues  the  West  Welsh  to  the 
Taniar. 

Civil  war  in  Mercia. 

Ecgberht  defeats  Mercians  at  Ellandun. 

overlord     of     England     south      of 

Thames. 

Revolt  of  East  Anglia  against  Mercia. 

Defeat  of  Mercians  by  East  Anglians. 

Mercia  and  Northumbria  submit  to  Ecg- 
berht. 

Ecgberht  overlord  of  all  English  kingdoms. 

invades  Wales. 

defeats  Danes  at  Hengestesdun. 

JEthelwulf,  King  of  Wessex,  died  858. 

yElfred  bom. 

Danes  defeated  at  Aclea. 

yElfred  sent  to  Rome. 

/Etheiwulf  goes  to  Rome. 

iEthelbald,  King  of  Wessex,  died  860. 

JEthelberht,  King  of  Wesse»,  died  866. 

iEthelred,  King  of  Wessex,  died  871. 

Danes  conquer  Northumbria. 

Peace  of  Nottingham  with  Danes. 

Danes  conquer  and  settle  in  E^t  Anglia. 

Danes  invade  Wessex. 

JElfred,  King  of  Wessex,  died  901. 

Danes  conquer  Mercia. 

Danes  settle  in  Northumbria. 

i^lfred  defeats  Danes  at  Exeter. 

Danes  overrun  Wessex. 

i^Ifred  victor  at  Edington. 

Peace  of  Wed  more. 

iElfred  sends  envoys  to  Rome  and  India. 


886     iEIfrcd  takes  and  refortifies  London. 

893  Danes  reappear  in  Thames  and  Kent. 

894  iElfred  drives  Hasting  from  Wesfcex- 

895  Hasting  invades  Mcrcia. 

896  iElfred  drives  Danes  fix>m  Essex. 

897  Hasting  quits  England. 
iEIfred  creates  a  fleet. 

901    ^Eadward  the  Elder,  died  925. 

912  Northmen  settle  in  Normandy. 

913  ) 

918  j  -^'hc'flsed  conquers  Danish  Mercia. 

921       Eadward  subdues  East  Anglia  and  Esse*. 

®84     owned  as  overlord  by  Northumbria, 

Scots,  and  Strathclyde. 

925  JEthelstan,  died  94a 

926      drives  Welsh  from  Exeter. 

934     invades  Scotland. 

937  Victory  of  Brunanburh. 

940  Eadmund,  died  946. 

943  Dunstan  made  Abbot  of  Glastonbury. 

945  Cumberland  granted  to  Malcolm,  King  of 

Scots. 

946  Eadred,  died  955. 

854  makes  Northumbria  an  Earldom. 

955  Eadwig:,  died  959. 

956  Banishment  of  Dunstan. 

957  Revolt  of  Mercia  under  Eadgar. 

958  Eadgrar,  died  975. 

959  ^  Dunstan  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
975     Eadward  the  Martyr,  died  978. 
978    JEthelred  the  Unready,  died  101& 
987    ) 

1040  (  ^"'^  ^^*  '^\3icV,  Count  of  Anjoa. 

994       Invasion  of  Swein. 

1002  Massacre  of  Danes. 

1003  Swein  harries  Wessex. 

1012  Murder  of  Archbishop  iWfheah. 

1013  All  England  submits  to  Swein. 
Flight  of  yEthcIred  to  Normandy. 

1016     Eadmund  Ironside,  King.anddka. 


ENGLAND   UNDER   FOREIGN    KINGS. 


1016 
1020 
1027 

1035 
1037 
1040 
1040 
1060 
1042 
1045 


1016-1204. 


Cnut,  King,  died  1035. 

Godwine  made  Earl  of  Wessex. 

Cnut  goes  to  Rome. 

Birth  of  William  of  Normandy. 

H.-irnld  and  Harthacnut  divide  England. 

Harald,  King,  died  1040. 

Harthacnut,  King,  died  104a. 

CeofTry  Martel,  Count  of  A^jou. 

Eadward  the  Oonfeasor  ,dicd  1066. 

Lanfranc  at  Bd . 


1047 
1051 

1052 
1053 

1054 
1055 
1054 1 
1060) 
1058 


Victory  of  William  at  Val.«»Khines. 

Banishment  of  Godwine. 

William  of  Normandy  visitt  Ri^tand. 

Return  of  Godwine. 

Death  of  Godwine. 

Harold  made  Earl  of  West  Saxoits. 

William's  victory  at  Morteoiar. 

Harold's  first  campaign  in  Wale». 

Norman  conquest  of  Southern  Italy. 

William's  victory  at  the  Dive. 


//-  ^-^^-y"^^.^  ^ 


CHRONOLOGICAL   ANNALS. 


xxiii 


1060  Normans  invade  Sicily. 
1063  Harold  conquers  Wales. 
1066    Harold,  King. 

conquers  at  Stamford  Bridge. 

J defeated  at  Senlac  or  Hastings, 

William  of  Normandy,  King,  died  1087. 

Norman  Conquest  of  England. 

Reorganization  of  the  Church. 
Lanfranc  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Rising  of  Roger  Fitz-Osbern. 
William  invades  Wales. 
Failure  of  Danish  invasion. 
Completion  of  Domesday  Book. 
'William  the  Red,  died  uoo. 
Anselm,  Archbishop. 
Revolt    of    Wales   against  the   Norman 

Marchers. 
Revolt  of  Robert  de  Mowbray. 
Normandy  left  in  pledge  to  William. 
William  invades  Wales. 
Anselm  leaves  England. 
War  with  France. 
Henry  the  First,  died  1135. 
Henry's  Charter. 

Robert  of  Normandy  invades  England. 
Settlement  of  question  of  investitures. 
English  Conquest  of  Normandy. 
Fulk  of  Jerusalem,  Count  of  Anjou. 

War  with  France. 

War  with  Anjou. 

Peace  of  Gisors. 

Marriage  of  Matilda  with  Henry  V. 

Wreck  of  White  Ship. 

Henry's  campaign  in  Wales. 

Revolt  of  Norman  baronage. 

France  and  Anjou  support  William  Clito. 

Matilda  married  to  Geoffry  of  Anjou. 

Death  of  the  Clito  in  Flanders. 

Revolt  of  Wales. 

Stephen  of  Blois,  died  1154. 

Normandy  repulses  the  Angevins. 


1138 


1075 
1081 
1085 
1086 
1087 
1093 
1094 

1095 
1096 
1097 

1098 
1100 

1101 
1106 

1109) 

1129  J 

1110 

1111 

1113 

1114. 

1120 

1121 

1123 

1124 

1128 

1134 
1135 
1138 


Revolt  of  Earl  Robert. 

Battle  of  the  Standard. 

Seizure  of  the  Bishops. 

Landing  of  Matilda. 

Battle  of  Lincoln. 

Birth  of  Gerald  of  Wales. 

Matilda  withdraws  to  Normandy. 

Archbishop  Theobald  driven  into  exile. 

Henry  of  Anjou  in  England. 

Henry  becomes  Duke  of  Normandy. 

Henry  marries  Eleanor  of  Guienne. 

Henry  in  England.  Treaty  of  Wallingford. 

Henry  the  Second,  died  1189. 

Expedition  against  Toulouse. 

The  Great  Scutage. 

Thomas  made  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

Constitutions  of  Clarendon. 

Council  of  Northampton. 

Flight  of  Archbishop  Thomas. 

Assize  of  Clarendon. 

Strongbow's  invasion  of  Ireland. 

Inquest  of  Sheriffs. 

Death  of  Archbishop  Thomas. 

Henry's  Conquest  of  Ireland. 

1174  }  ^^b^'^^°"  ^^  Henry's  sons. 

Assize  of  Northampton.  , 

Reorganization  of  Curia  Regis. 

Assize  of  Arms. 

Revolt  of  Richard. 

Richard  the  First,  died  1199. 

Richard's  Crusade. 


1139 

1141 
1147 
1148 

1149 
1151 
1152 
1153 
1154 
1159 

1162 
1164 


1166 
1170 


1172 


1176 
1178 
1181 
1189 


1190 
1194 

1196  }  ^^^  ^^'^  ^^a&V  Augustus. 

1246  }  Llewelyn  ap-Jorwerth  in  North  Wales. 

1197  Richard  builds  Chateau  Gaillard. 

1199  John,  dies  1216.  ^-^ 

1200     recovers  Anjou  and  Maine. 

Layatnon  writes  the  Brut. 

1203  Murder  of  Arthur. 

1 204  French  conquest  of  Anjou  and  Normandy 


1205 
1206 
1208 
2210 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 
1204— 1295. 


Barons  refuse   to  fight    for    recovery    of 

Normandy. 
Stephen  Langton  A  rchbishop  of  Canter- 
bury. 

Innocent  III.  puts  England  under  Inter- 
dict. 

John  divides  Irish  Pale  into  counties. 


1211      John  reduces  Llewelyn  -  ap  -  Jorwcrth  u 

submission. 

1213  John  becomes  the  Pope's  vassal. 

1214  Battle  of  Bouvines. 
Birth  of  Roger  Bacon. 

1215  The  Great  Charter.  '-^ 

1216  Lewis  of  France  called  in  by  the  Barons 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


1216 

Henry  the  Third,  died  laja. 

1264 

Battle  of  Le««i. 

Confirmation  of  the  Charter. 

1265 

Commons  summoned  to  Parliament. 

lfll7 

Lewis  returns  to  France. 

Battle  of  Evesham. 

Charter  again  confirmed. 

1267 

Roger  Baron  vtritei  his  "  Opus  Majus." 

iai9 

Hubert  de  Burgh,  Justiciar. 

Llewelyn-ap.Gruffydd  owned  as  Prince  ol 

1821 

Friars  land  in  England. 

Wales. 

1223 

Charter  again  confirmed  at  Ix)ndon. 

1270 

Edward  goes  on  Crtisade. 

1224. 

Revolt  of  Faukes  de  Breaut^, 

1272 

Edward  the  First,  died  xyvj 

1225 

Fresh  confirmation  of  Charter. 

1277 

Edward  reduces  Llewelyn-ap-Onifiydd  t» 

1228 

Stephen  Lang  ton's  death. 

submission. 

1220 

Papal  exactions. 

1279 

Statute  of  Mortmain. 

1230 

Failure  of  Henry's  campaign  in  Poitou. 

1282 

Conquest  of  Wales. 

1231 

Conspiracy  against  the  Italian  clergy. 

1283 

Statute  of  Merchants. 

1232 

Fall  of  Hubert  de  Burgh. 

1285 

Statute  of  Winchester. 

1237 

Charter  again  confirmed. 

1200 

Statute  "Quia  Emptores." 

1238 

Earl  Simon  of  Leicester  marries  Henry's 

Expulsion  of  the  Jews. 

sister. 

Marriage  Treaty  of  Brigham. 

1242 

Defeat  of  Henry  at  Taillebourg. 

1291 

Parliament  at  Norham  concerning  Scotch 

Barons  refuse  subsidies. 

succession. 

12461 
1283 

1  Llewelyn-ap-Gruffydd,    Prince    in   North 

1292 

Edward  claims  appeals  from  Scotland. 

Wales. 

Death  of  Roger  Bacon, 

1248 

Irish  refusal  of  subsidies. 

1294 

Seizure  of  Guienne  by  Philip  of  France. 

Earl  Simon  in  Gascony. 

1295 

French  fleet  attacks  Dover. 

1253 

Earl  Simon  returns  to  England. 

Final  organization  of  the  EnglUh  Pwlia- 

1258 

Provisions  of  Oxford. 

ment. 

1264 

Mise  of  Amiens. 

THE   WAR   WITH   SCOTLAND   AND   FRANCE. 


1296-1485. 


1296  Edward  conquers  Scotland. 

1297  Victory  of  Wallace  at  Stiriing. 
Outlawry  of  the  Clergy. 
Barons  refuse  to  serve  in  Guienne. 

1298  Edward  conquers  Scots  at  Falkirk. 
Truce  with  France. 

1301      Barons  demand  nomination  of  Ministers 
by  Parliament. 
Barons  exact  fresh  Confirmation  of  the 
Charters. 

1304  Submission  of  Scotland. 

1305  Pariiament  oi  Perth. 

1306  Rising  of  Robert  Bruce. 

1307  Parliament  of  Carlisle. 
Edward  the  Second,  died  1327. 

1308  Gaveston  exiled. 

1310     The  Lords  Ordainer*  draw  up  Articles  of 

Reform. 
1312     Death  of  Gaveaton. 
1314     Battle  of  Bannockbum. 
1316     Battle  of  Athenree. 
1318     Edward  accepts  the  Ordinances. 
1322     Death  of  Earl  of  Lancatter.     Ordiiuutces 

annulled. 
ISM     Truce  with  the 


1324 
1325 

1326 
1327 

1328 

1329 
1330 
1332 
1333 

1335 
1336 
1336 
1337 
1338 

1339 

1340 
1341 
1342 


French  attack  Aquitaine. 

The     Queen    and     Prince    Edward     in 

France. 
Queen  lands  in  England. 
Deposition  of  Edward  II. 
Edward  the  Third,  died  1377. 
Treaty  of  Northampton  recognizes  iade 

pendence  of  Scotland. 
Death  of  Robert  Bruce. 
Death  of  Roger  Mortimer. 
Edward  Balliol  invades  Scotland. 
Battle  of  Halidon  Hill. 
Balliol  does  homage  to  Edward. 

Edward  invades  Scotland. 

France  again  declares  war. 

War  with  France  and  Scotland. 

Edward  claims  crown  of  Knuice. 
Balliol  driven  from  Scotlar.i 
Edward  attacks  France  from  BimbanL 
Battle  of  Sluj's. 

War  in  Britanny  and  Guienne. 

Battles  of  Cricy  and  Neville's  (>Dt». 


CHRONOLOGICAL   ANNALS. 


1347 

1348 
1349 
1351 
1351 
1353 
1355 
1356 
1366 
1367 
1368 
1370 
1372 
1374 
1376 
1377 


Capture  of  Calais. 

Truce  with  France. 

First  appearance  of  the  Black  Death. 

Statutes  of  Labourers. 

First  Statute  of  Provisors.      >- 
First  Statute  of  Praemunire,  y 
Renewal  of  French  War.      ''^ 
Battle  of  Poitiers. 
Statute  of  Kilkenny. 

The  Black  Prince  victorious  at  Navarete. 
Wyclif's  treatise  "  De  Dominio." 
Storm  of  Limoges.  -• 
Victory  of  Spanish  fleet  off  Rochelle. 
Revolt  of  Aquitaine. 
The  Good  Parliament. 
Its  work  undone  by  the  Duke  of  Lancaster 
Wyclif  before  the  Bishop  of  London. 
Richard  the  Second,  died  1399. 
1378     Gregory  XL  denounces  Wyclif's  heresy. 

1380  Longland's'''' Piers  the  Ploughman."  -^ 

1381  Wyclif's  declaration  against  Transubstan- 

tiation. 
The  Peasant  Revolt.    i>^ 

1382  Condemnation  of  Wyclif  at  Blackfriars. 
Suppression  of  the  Poor  Preachers. 

1384     Death  of  Wyclif. 

1386     Barons  force  Richard  to  dismiss  the  Earl 

of  Suffolk. 
1389     Truce  with  France. 
1394     Richard  in  Ireland. 
1396     Richard  marries  Isabella  of  France. 

Truce  with  France  prolonged. 
1.397     Murder  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester. 

1398  Richard's  plans  of  tyranny. 

1399  Deposition  of  Richard. 

Henry  the  Fourth,  died  1413. 

1400  Revolt  of  Owen  Glyndwr  in  Wales. 

1401  Statute  of  Heresy. 

1402  Battle  of  Homildon  Hill. 

1403  Revolt  of  the  Percies. 

1405  }  ^'■^"'^'^  descents  on  England. 
1405  Revolt  of  Archbishop  Scrope. 
1407     French  attack  Gascony. 


1411 

1413 
1414 
1415 
1417 
1419 
1420 
1422 
1424 
1428 
1429 
1430 
1431 
1435 
1445 
1447 
1450 


1451 
1454 
1455 
1456 
1459 
1460 


1461 


English  force  sent  to  aid  Duke  of  Biuw 

gundy  in  France. 
Henry  the  Fifth,  died  1423. 
Lollard  Conspiracy. 
Battle  of  Agincourt. 
Henry  invades  Normandy. 
Alliance  with  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
Treaty  of  Troyes. 
Henry  the  Sixth,  died  1471. 
Battle  of  Vemeuil. 

Siege  of  Orleans. 

County  Suffrage  restricted. 

Death  of  Joan  of  Arc. 

Congress  of  Arras. 

Marriage  of  Margaret  of  Anjou. 

Death  of  Duke  of  Gloucester. 

Impeachment    and    death    of    Dukr    «{ 

Suffolk. 
Cade's  Insurrection. 
Loss  of  Normandy. 
Loss  of  Guienne. 
Duke  of  York  named  Protector. 
First  Battle  of  St.  Albans. 
End  of  York's  Protectorate. 
Failure  of  Yorkist  revolt. 
Battle  of  Northampton. 
York  acknowledged  as  successor. 
Battle  of  Wakefield. 
Second  Battle  of  St.  AlBans. 
Battle  of  Mortimer's  Cross. 
Edvirard  the  Fourth,  died  1483. 
Battle  of  Towton. 


1471  }  Warwick  the  King-maker. 

1464 

1470 


1471 
1475 
1476 
1483 


1485 


Edward  marries  Lady  Grey. 
Warwick  driven  to  France. 
Flight  of  Edward  to  Flanders. 
Battles  of  Bamet  and  Tewkesbujy. 
Edward  invades  France. 
Caxton  settles  in  England. 
Murder  of  Ed-ward  the  Fifth. 
Richard  the  Third,  died  1485. 
Buckingham's  Insvurection. 
Battle  of  Bosworth. 


THE   TUDORS. 
1485-1603. 


1485    Henry  the  Seventh,  died  1509. 
1487     Conspiracy  of  Lambert  Simnel. 
1490    Treaty  with  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
1492     Henry  invades  France. 
1497    Cornish  rebellion. 

Perkin  Warbeck  captured. 


1497  Sebastian  Cabot  lands  in  America. 

1499  Colet  and  Erasmus  at  Oxford. 

1 501  Arthur  Tudor  marries  Catharine  of  Aragon. 

1 5  02  Margaret  Tudor  marries  James  the  Fovrth. 

1505  Colet  Dean  of  S.  Paul's. 

1509  Henry  the  Eighth,  died  xs47- 


xxvi 


CHRONOLOGICAL   ANNALS. 


1500 

i5ia 

1513 

1515 
1517 

i5ao 

15fll 
1522 
1523 
1525 


1526 

1520 

1531 

1532 
1534. 
1535 


J. 


1536 
1537 
1538 
1539 


1542 


154>4. 
1547 


1548 
1549 

1551 
1553 

1554 

1555 
1556 
1557 
1558 

1559 

1560 
1561 
1562 


Erasmus  writes  the  "  Praise  of  Folly." 
War  with  France. 

Battles  of  the  Spurs  and  of  Flodden. 
Wolsey  becomes  chief  Minister. 
More's  "  Utopia." 
Luther  denounces  Indulgences. 
Field  of  Cloth  of  Gold. 
i  Luther  bums  the  Pope's  Bull. 
'  Quarrel  of  Luther  with  Henry  the  Eighth. 
Renewal  of  French  war. 
Wolsey  quarrels  with  the  Commons. 
Exaction  of  Benevolences  defeated. 
Peace  with  France. 

Tyndale  translates  the  New  Testament. 
Henry  resolves  on  a  Divorce.   Persecution 

of  Protestants. 
Fall  of  Wolsey.     Ministry  of  Norfolk  and 

More. 
King  acknowledged  as  "  Supreme  Head  of 

the  Church  of  England." 
Statute  of  Appeals. 
Acts  of  Supremacy  and  Succession. 
Cromwell  Vicar-General.  <■■-  ' 
Death  of  More. 

Overthrow  of  the  Geraldines  in  Ireland. 
Dissolution  of  lesser  Monasteries. 
Pilgrimage  of  Grace.  • 

English  Bible  issued. 
Execution  of  Lord  Exeter, 
law  of  Six  Articles. 
Suppression  of  greater  Abbeys. 
Completion    of  the   Tudor  Conquest  of 

Ireland. 
War  with  France. 
Execution  of  Earl  of  Surrey. 
£dward  the  Sixth,  died  1553. 
Battle  of  Pinkie  Cleugh. 
Suppression  of  Chantries. 
English  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
Western   Rebellion.     End  of  Somerset's 

Protectorate. 
Death  of  Somerset. 
Mar  J,  died  1558. 
Chancellor  discovers  Archangel. 
Mary  marries  Philip  of  Spain. 
England  absolved  by  Cardinal  Pole. 
Persecution  of  Protestants  begins. 
Burning  of  Archbishop  Cmnmer. 
War  with  France. 
Ix>«s  of  Calais. 
EUmabeth,  died  1603.  ^ 

restores     Royal     Suprsmacy     and 

English  Prayer  Book. 
Wnr  In  Scotland. 
Mary  Stuart  lands  in  Scotland. 
Rebellion  of  Shane  O'Ndll  in  Ulster. 


4- 


1562  Elizabeth  supporu  French  Huguenots. 
Hawkins  begins  Slave  Trade  vith  Africa. 

1 563  First  penal  sutute  against  Catholics. 
English  driven  out  of  Havre. 
Thirty-nine  Articles  imposed  on  clergy. 

1565  Mary  marries  Damley. 

1566  Damley  murders  Rizzio. 
Royal  Exchange  built. 

1567  Murder  of  Damley. 

Defeat  and  death  of  Shane  O'Ntill. 

1568  Mary  flies  to  England. 

1569  Revolt  of  the  northern  Earis. 
15  70      Bull  of  Deposition  published. 

1571  Conspiracy  and  death  of  Norfolk. 

1572  Rising  of  the  Low  Countries  against  Alva. 
Cartwright's  "  Admonition  to  the  Pariia- 

ment." 

1575  Queen  refuses  Netherlands. 

1576  First  public  Theatre  in  Blackfrimn.       • 
Landing  of  the  Seminary  Priests. 

1577  Drake  sets  sail  for  the  Pacific 

1579  Lyly's  "  Euphues." 

Spenser  publishes '  ^Shepherds  CaUnda  r. '' 

1580  Campian  and  Parsons  in  England. 
Revolt  of  the  Desmonds. 
Massacre  of  Smerwick. 

1583  Plots  to  assassinate  Elizabeth. 

New  powers  given  to  Ecclesiastical  GDin- 
mission. 

1584  Murder  of  Prince  of  Orange. 
Armada  gathers  in  the  Tagus. 
Colonization  of  Virginia. 

1585  English  Army  sent  to  Netherlands. 
Drake  on  the  Spanish  Coast. 

1586  Battle  of  Zutphen. 
Babington's  Plot. 

1587  ShaJks/ert  in  London. 
Death  of  Mary  Stuart. 

Drake  bums  Spanish  fleet  at  Cadiz. 
MarUwe't  "  Tamburlaine." 

1588  Defeat  of  the  Armada. 
Martin  Marprtlmie  Tracts 

1580    Drake  plunder*  Corunna. 

1 500    Publicaticn  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen. ' ' 

1503  Shmkspere's  *•  Vemu  and  Adoniu" 

1504  Hooker's  "  Ecclesiastical  Polity." 

1506  Joneon't  "Every  Man  in  his  Hu$m*mr." 
Descent  upon  Cadiz. 

1507  Ruin  of  the  Second  Armada. 
Bacon' t  **  Etmys," 

1508  Revolt  of  Hugh  O'Neill. 

1500     Exfiedition  of  Eari  of  Essex  in  Iraland. 
1601      Execution  of  Eiaex. 
1603     Mountjoy  coap)«Mt  Um  ooaquest  of  If*- 
land. 
DMth  of  Elbmbeth. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


THE    STUARTS. 
1603-1688. 


James  the  First,  died  1625. 

Millenary  Petition. 

Parliament     claims    to    deal    with    both 
Church  and  State. 

Hampton  Court  Conference. 

Gunpowder  Plot. 

Sacon  s''^'~Aoivancement  of  Learning" 

Parliament's  Petition  of  Grievances.  ^/ 

Plantation  of  Ulster,     i^ 

Marriage  of  the  Elector  Palatine. 

First  quarrels  with  the  Parliament.   ^ 

Trial  of  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Somerset. 

Dismissal  of  Chief  Justice  Coke. 

Death  of  Shakspere. 

Bacon  Lord  Keeper. 

Proposals  for  the  Spanish  Marriage. 

The  Declaration  of  Sports. 
I  Expedition  and  death  of  Ralegh.  .: 

Beginning  of  Thirty  Years'  War. 

Irtvasion  of  theTalattnate.  

Landing  of  the  Pilgrim- Fathers  in  New 

England. 
Bacon's  ^' Novztm  Organum," 
Impeachment  of  Bacon. 
James  tears  out  the  Protestation  of  the 

Commons. 
Journey  of  Prince  Charles  to  Madrid. 
Resolve  of  War  against  Spain. 
Charles  the  First,  died  1649. 
First  Parliament  dissolved. 
Failure  of  expedition  against  Cadiz. 
Buckingham  impeached. 
Second  Parliament  dissolved.    1/ 
Levy  of  Benevolence  and  Forced  Loan. 
Failure  of  expedition  to  Rochelle. 
The  Petition  of  Right. 
Murder  6TT?uckmgha'nn 
Laud  Bishop  of  London.  / 

1629  Dissolution  of  Third  Parliament. 
Charter  granted  to  Massachusetts. 
Wentworth  Lord  President  of  the  North. 

1630  Puritan  Emigration  to  New  England. 
1633     Wentworth  Lord  Deputy  in  Ireland.   ^ 

Laud  A  rchbishop  of  Canterbury.   '•^ 

Milton's  ^'■Allegro"  and  ^^ Penseroso." 

Prynne's  "  Histrio-mastix." 
a684-     M'lton's  "Comus." 
1636     Juxon  Lord  Treasurer. 

Book    of  Canons   and  Common   Prayer 
issued  for  Scotland. 

Hampden  refuses  to  pay  Ship-money. 


1637 
1638 
1639 
1640 


1641 


1642 


1643 


1644 


1645 


1646 
1647 


Revolt  of  Edinburgh. 

Trial  of  Hampden. 

Milton's  ^^  Lycidas." 

The  Scotch  Covenant. 

Leslie  at  Dunse  Law. 

Pacification  of  Berwick-   ^^ 

The  Short  Parliament    ^""^ 

The  Bishops'  War. 

Great  Council  of  Peers  at  York 

Long  Parliament  meets,  Nov.  ^ 

Pym  leader  of  the  Commons. 

Execution  of  Strafford,  May 

Charles  visits  Scotland. 

Hyde  organizes  royalist  party. 

The  Irish  Massacre,  Oct. 

The  Grand  Remonstrance,  Nov. 

Impeachment  of  Five  Members,  Jan. 

Charies  before  Hull,  April. 

Royalists  withdraw  from  Parliament. 

Charles  raises  Standard  at  Nottingham, 
August  22. 

Battle  of  Edgehill,  Oct.  23. 

Hobbes  writes  the  "  De  Give." 

Assembly  of  Divines  at  Westminster. 

Rising  of  the  Cornishmen,  May. 

Death  of  Hampden,  June. 

Battle  of  Roundway  Down,  July. 

Siege  of  Gloucester,  Aug. 

Death  nf  Falkland,  Sept. 

Charles  negotiates  with  Irish  Catholic*. 

Taking  of  the  Covenant,  Sept.  25. 

Fight  at  Cropredy  Bridge,  June. 

Battle  of  Marston  Moor,  July  2. 

Surrender  of  Parliamentary  Army  in  Corn- 
wall, Sept.  2. 

Battle  of  Tippermuir,  Sept.  2. 

Battle  of  Newbury,  Oct. 

Milton's  " Areopagitica." 

Self-denying  Ordinance,  ApriL 

New  Model  raised. 

Battle  of  Naseby,  June  14. 

Battle  of  Philiphaugh,  Sept. 

Charles  surrenders  to  the  ScoU,  May. 

Scots  surrender  Charles  to  the  Houses^ 
Jan.  30. 

Army  elects  Agitators,  ApriL 

The  King  seized  at  Holmby  House,  Juut. 

"  Humble  Representation  "  of  the  Army, 
June. 

Expulsion  of  the  Eleven  Members. 

Army  occupies  London,  Au/r 

Flight  of  the  King,  Nov. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


1647 


1650 


1651 


1652 


1653 


Secret  Treaty  of  Charles  with  the  Scots, 
Dec. 

Outbreak  of  the  Royalist  Revolt,  Feb. 

Kevolt  of  the  Fleet,  and  of  Kent,  May. 

Fairfax    and    Cromwell    in    Essex    and 
Wales,  June— July. 

Battle  of  Preston,  Aug.  x;. 

Surrender  of  Colchester,  Aug.  vj 

Pride's  Purge,  Dec. 

Royal  Society  begins  at  Oxford. 
1649    Execution  of  Charles  I.,  Jan.  30. 

v-^Sc  iland  proclaims  Charles  II.  King. 

England  proclaims  itself  a  Commonwealth. 

Cromwell  storms  Drogheda,  Sept.  11. 

Croinwell  enters  Scotland. 

Battle  of  Dunbar,  Sept.  3. 

Battle  of  Worcester,  Sept.  3. 

Hobbess  ^''Leviathan." 

Union  with  Scotland. 

Outbreak  of  Dutch  War,  May. 

Victory  of  Tromp,  Nov. 

Victory  of  Blake,  Feb. 

Cromwell    drives    out    the    Parliament, 
April  20. 

Constituent  Convention  (Barebones  Par- 
liament), July. 

Convention  dissolves,  Dec. 
/The  Instalment  of  Government. 
'  Oliver    Cromwell,    Lord    Pro- 
tector, died  1658. 

Peace  concluded  with  Holland. 

First  Protectorate  Parliament,  Sept. 

Dissolution  of  the  Parliament,  Jan. 

The  Major-Generals. 

Settlement  of  Scotland  and  Ireland. 

Settlement  of  the  Church. 

Blake  in  the  Mediterranean. 

War  with  Spain  and  Conquest  of  Jamaica. 

Second  Protectorate  Parliament,  Sept. 

Blake's  victory  at  Santa  Crux. 

Cromwell  refuses  title  of  King. 

Act  of  Government. 

Parliament  dissolved,  Feb. 

Battle  of  the  Dunes. 

Capture  of  Dunkirk. 

Death  of  Cromwell,  SepL  3. 

Richard  Crom^pvell,  Lord  Pro- 
tector, died  1712. 

Third  Protectorate  Parliament. 

Pariiament  dissolved. 

Long  Parliament  recalled. 

Long  Parliament  again  driven  out. 

Monk  enters  London. 

The  "Convention"  Parliament. 

Charles  the  Second,tandsat  Dover, 
Metf,  died  1685. 


1654 


1655 


1656 
1657 


1658 


1659 


1660 


1660  Union  of  Scotland  and  Ireland  iindoo» 

1661  Cavalier  Parliament  begins. 
166S     Act  of  Uniformity  re-enacted. 

Puritan  clergy  driven  out. 
Royal  Society  at  Lamdotu 

1663  Di.spensing  Bill  fails. 

1664  Conventicle  Act. 

1665  Dutch  War  begins. 
Five  Mile  Act. 
Plague  of  London. 
Newton's  Theory  of  Fluxions. 

1666  Fire  of  London. 

1667  The  Dutch  in  the  Medway. 
Dismissal  of  Clarendon. 
Peace  of  Breda. 

Lewis  attacks  Flanders. 
Milton's  '•  Paradise  Lost." 

1668  The  Triple  Alliance. 
Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

Ashley    shrinks  back  from  toleration  to 
Catholics. 

1670  Treaty  of  Dover. 

Buny  an's '  ^Pilgrim's  Progress ' '  writtett- 

1671  Milton's    "Paradise    Regained"    and 

'*  Samson  Agonistes." 
Newton's  Theory  of  Light. 

1672  Closing  of  the  Exchequer. 
Declaration  of  Indulgence. 
War  begins  with  Holland. 
Ashley  made  Chancellor. 

1673  Declaration  of  Indulgence  withdrawn. 
The  Test  Act. 

Shaftesbury  dismissed. 
Shaftesbury  takes  the  lead  of  the  Country 
Party. 

1674  Bill  of  Protesunt  Securities  fails. 
Charles  makes  Peace  with  Holland. 
Danby  Lord  Treasurer. 

1675  Treaty  of  mutual  aid  between  Charles  and 

Lewis. 

1677  Shaftesbury  sent  to  the  Tower. 

Bill  for  Security  of  the  Church  fails. 
Address  of  the    Houses   for  War   with 

France. 
Prince  of  Orange  marries  Mary 

1678  Peace  of  Nimeguen. 

Oates  invents  tKe  Popish  Pk>t. 

1679  New  Parliament  1 
Fall  of  Danby. 

New  Ministry  with  Shaftesbury  at  ttt  I 
Temple's  plan  for  a  new  CouodL 
Habeas  Corpus  Act  passed. 
Exclusion  Bill  inirodooed. 
ParUamoat  diMolved. 
Shafteebury  diwniwed. 

1680  Committee  for  afiutton  fimaed. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


xxte 


Monmouth  pretends  to  the  throne. 

Petitioners  and  Abhorrers. 

Exclusion  Bill  thrown  out  by  the  Lords. 

Trial  of  Lord  Stafford. 

Parliament  at  Oxford. 

Treaty  with  France. 

Limitation  Bill  rejected. 

Shaftesbury  and  Monmouth  arrested. 

Conspiracy  and  flight  of  Shaftesbury. 

Penn  founds  Pennsylvania. 

Death  cf  Shaftesbury. 

Rye-house  Plot. 

Execution  of  Lord  Russell  and  Algernon 

Sidney. 
Town  charters  quashed. 
Army  increased. 
James  the  Second,  died  1701. 

In-urrection  of  Argyll  and  Monmouth. 
Battle  of  Sedgemoor,  July  6. 
The  Bloody  Circuit. 
Army  raised  to  20,000  men. 


1685  Revocation  of  Edict  of  Nantes. 

1686  Test  Act  dispensed  with  by  royal  authority. 
Ecclesiastical  Commission  set  up. 

1687  Newton' 5  *' Princi/>ia." 

Expulsion  of  the  Fellows  of  Magdalen. 
Dismissal  of  Lords  Rochester  and  Cla 

rendon. 
Declaration  of  Indulgence. 
The  Boroughs  regulated. 
William  of  Orange  protests  against   the 

Declaration. 
Tyrconnell  made  Lord  Deputy  in  Ireland. 

1688  Clergy  refuse  to  r6ad  the  new  Declaration 

of  Indulgence. 
Birth  of  James's  son. 
Invitation  to  William. 
Trial  of  the  Seven  Bishops. 
Irish  troops  brought  over  to  England. 
Lewis  attacks  Germany. 
William  of  Orange  lands  at  Torbay. 
Flight  of  James. 


MODERN    ENGLAND. 


iX' 


1689—1874. 


Convention  Parliament. 
Declaration  of  Rights. 
^Villiaxn  and  Mary  made  King 
and  Queen. 

William  forms  the  Grand  Alliance  against 

Lewis. 
Battle  of  Killiecrankie,  July  37. 
Siege  of  Londonderry. 
Mutiny  Bill. 
Toleration  Bill.    - 
Bill  of  Rights. 

Secession  of  the  Non-jurors. 
Abjuration  Bill  and  Act  of  Grac„. 
Battle  of  Beachy  Head,  June  30. 
Battle  of  the  Boyne,  July  i. 
William  repulsed  from  Limerick. 
Battle  of  Aughrim,  July. 
Capitulation  and  Treaty  of  Limerick. 
Massacre  of  Glencoe. 
Battle  of  La  Hogue,  May  19. 
Sunderland's  plan  of  a  Ministry. 
Bank  of  England  set  up. 
Death  of  Mary. 
Currency  restored. 
Peace  of  Ryswick. 
First  Partition  Treaty. 
Second  Partition  Treaty. 
Duke  of  Anjou  becomes  Kinjr  of  Spain. 
Act  of  Settlenient  passed. 


1701 
1702 
1704- 

1705 
1706 
1707 
1708 

1709 
1710 

1712 
1713 
1714> 

1715 
1716 
1717 

1718 
1720 

1721 
1723 
1727 

1729 
1730 


Death  of  James  II. 

Anne,  died  1714-     ' 

Battle  of  Blenheim,  August  13. 

Harley  and  St.  John  take  office. 

Victories  of  Peterborough  in  Spain. 

Battle  of  Ramillies,  May  23. 

Act  of  Union  with  Scotland. 

Dismissal  of  Harley  and  St.  John. 

Battle  of  Oudenarde. 

Battle  of  Malplaquet. 

Trial  of  Sacheverell. 

Tory  Minis'  ry  of  Harley  and  St.  John. 

Dismissal  of  Marlborough. 

Treaty  of  Utrecht. 

George  the  First,  died  1727. 

Ministry  of  Townshend  and  Walpol*. 

Jacobite  Re\  olt  under  Lord  Mar. 

The  'septennial  Bill. 

The  Triple  Alliance. 

Ministry  of  Lord  Stanhope. 

The  Quadruple  Alliance. 

Failure  of  the  Peerage  Bill. 

The  South  Sea  Company. 

Ministry  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole. 

Exile  of  Bishop  Atterbiur. 

War  with  Austria  and  Spain. 

George  the  Second,  died  nto. 

Treaty  of  Seville. 

Free  exportation  of  American  rice  allowed. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


1731 
1733 


1737 
1738 
1739 
174.0 
1742 
1743 
1745 


1746 

1748 
1751 
1754 

1755 

1756 

1757 

1758 
1750 

1760 
1761 

1763 

1764 

1765 

1766 


Treaty  of  Vienna. 

1769 

WUkes  three   times  elected  for  Middle- 

Walpole's Excise  Bill. 

sex. 

War  of  the  Polish  Succession. 

House  of  Commons  seau  CoL  LuttielL 

Family    compact    between    France   and 

Occupation  of  Boston  by  British  troopc 

Spain. 

Letters  of  Junius. 

Death  of  Queen  Caroline. 

1770 

Chatham's  proposal  of  Parliamentary  Re- 

TAe  Methodists  appear  in  London.  -^ 

form. 

War  declared  with  Spain. 

Ministry  of  Lord  North. 

War  of  the  Austrian  Succession. 

1771 

Last  attempt   to    prevent   Parliamentary 

Resignation  of  Walpole. 

reporting. 

Battle  of  Dettingen,  June  27. 

Beginning  of  the  great  English  Jaumais. 

Ministry  of  Henry  Pelh.-im. 

1773 

Hastings  appointed  Govemor-GeneraL 

Battle  of  Fontenoy,  May  31. 

Boston  tea-riots. 

Charles  Edward  lands  in  Scotland, 

1774 

Military  occupation  of  Boston. 

Battle  of  Prestonpans,  Sept.  21. 

Its  port  closed. 

Charles  Edward  reaches  Derby,  Dec.  4. 

Massachusetts  Charter  altered. 

Battle  of  Falkirk,  Jan.  2> 

Congress  assembles  at  Philadelphia. 

Battle  of  CuUoden,  April  ifi,y 
Peace  of  Aix-Ia-Chapelle.  ^ 

1775 

Rejection  of  Chatham's  plan  of  conciliation. 

Skirmish  at  I.exington. 

Clive's  surprise  of  Arcot.       *^ 

Americans,    under    Washington,    besiege 

Death  of  Henry  Pelham. 

Boston. 

Ministry  of  Duke  of  Newcastle. 

Battle  of  Bunker's  HUL 

The  Seven  Years'  War. 

Southern  Colonies  expel  their  Governors. 

Defeat  of  General  Braddock./^ 

1776 

Crompton  invents  the  Mule. 

Loss  of  Port  Mahon. 

Arnold  invades  Canada. 

Retreat  of  Admiral  Byng. 

Evacuation  of  Boston. 

Convention  of  Closter-Seven. 

Declaration  of  Independence,  July  4. 

Ministry  of  William  Pitt. 

Battles  of  Brooklyn  and  Trenton. 

Battle  of  Plassey,  Jun*  23. 

Adam  Smith's  "  Wealth  of  Nations." 

Capture  of  Louisburg  and  Cape  Breton. 

1777 

Battle  of  Brandywine. 

Capture  of  Fort  Duquesne. 

Surrender  of  Saratoga.  Oct.  17. 

Battle  of  Minden,  August  i. 

Chatham  proposes  Federal  Union. 

Capture  of  Fort  Niagara  and  Ticonderoga. 

W.ishington  at  Valley  Forge. 

Wolfe's  victory  on  Heights  of  Abraham. 

1778 

Alliance  of  France  and  Spain  with  United 

Battle  of  Quiberon  Bay,  Nov.  20. 

Sutes. 

Oeorce  the  Third    died  1820. 

Death  of  Chatham. 

Battle  of  Wandewash. 

1779 

Siege  of  Gibraltar. 

Pitt  resigns  office. 

Armed  Neutrality  of  Northern  Powers^ 

Ministry  of  Lord  Bute. 

The  Irish  Volunteers. 

BrindUy's  Canal  over  tk*  Irwtll. 

1780 

Capture  of  Charlestown. 

Peace  of  Paris. 

Descent  of  Hyder  Ali  on  the  Camatic 

Ministry  of  George  Grenville. 

1781 

Defeat  of  Hyder  at  Porto  Novo. 

Wedgwood  establishes  potteries. 

Surrender  of  Comwallis  at  Yorktown. 

First  expulsion  of  Wilkes  from  Honse  of 

1788 

Ministry  of  Lord  Rockingham. 

Commons. 

Victories  of  Rodney. 

Hargreaves  invents  Spinning  Jenny. 

Repeal  of  Poynings'  Act. 

Stamp  Act  passed. 

Pitt's  Bill  for  Parliamentary  Reform. 

Ministry  of  Lord  Rockingham. 

Burke's  Bill  of  Economical  Reform. 

Meeting  and  Protest   of  American  Con- 

Shelbume  Ministry. 

grcM. 

Repulse  of  Allies  from  Gibraltar. 

Weitt  invents  Steam  Engine. 

1783 

Tmties  of  Paris  and  Venailles. 

Repeal  of  the  Sump  Act. 

Coalition  Ministry  of  Fo«  and  North. 

Ministry  of  Lord  Chatham. 

Fox's  India  BllL 

Ministry  of  the  Duke  of  Gnifton. 

Ministry  of  Pitt.       ^ 

Second  expulsion  of  Wilkes. 

1784 

Pitt's  IndU  BiU.        \ 

Arkwright  invents  Spinning  UmtJUng. 

Financial  Refenaa.    \ 

CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


t:^ 


^  I 

Parliamentary  Reform  Bill. 

Free  Trade    Bill  between   England   and    | 

Ireland. 
Trial  of  Warren  Hastings. 
Treaty  of  Commerce  with  France. 
The  Regency  Bill. 

Meeting  of  States- General  at  Versailles. 
New  French  Constitution. 
Triple  Alliance  for  defence  of  Turkey. 
Quarrel  over  Nootka  Sound. 
Pitt  defends  Poland. 
Burke' s    "  Reflections     on  the    French 

Revolution." 
Representative    Government     set    up    in 

Canada. 
Fox's  Libel  Act. 
Burkes  '^^  Appeal  from  the  New  to  the 

Old  Whigsr 
Pitt   hinders   Holland    from   joining    the 

Coalition. 
France  opens  the  Scheldt. 
Pitt's  efforts  for  peace. 
The  United  Irishmen. 
France  declares  War  on  England. 
Part  of  Whigs  join  Pitt. 
English  army  lands  in  Flanders. 
English  driven  from  Toulon. 
English  driven  from  Holland. 
Suspension  of  Habeas  Corpus  Act. 
Victory  of  Lord  Howe,  June  i. 
Burke' s  "  Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace." 
England  alone  in  the  War  with  France. 
Battle  of  Camperdown. 
Battle  of  Cape  St.  Vincent. 
Irish  revolt  crushed  at  Vinegar  Hill. 
Battle  of  the  Nile. 

"Pitt  revives  the  Coalition  against  France. 
Conquest  of  Mysore. 
Surrender  of  Malta  to  English  Fleet. 
Armed  Neutrality  of  Northern  Powers. 
Act  of  Union  with  Ireland. 
George  the  Third  rejects  Pitt's  Plan  of 

Catholic  Emancipation. 
Administration  of  Mr.  Addington. 
Surrender  of  French  army  in  Egypt. 
Battle  of  Copenhagen. 
Peace  of  Amiens. 

Fublicdtion  of  ''^Edinburgh  Review." 
War  declared  against  Buonaparte. 
Battle  of  Assaye. 

Second  Ministry  of  Pitt.  | 

Battle  of  Trafalgar,  Oct.  21 
Death  of  Pitt,  fan.  23. 
Mhiistry  of  Lord  GrenvjUft 

Death  of  Fox; "' 

Orders  in  Council. 


1807  Abolition  of  Slave  Trade. 
Ministry  of  Duke  of  P'ortlajad. 
Seizure  of  Danish  Fleet. 

1808  Battle  of  Vimiera,    and    Convention    of 

Cintra. 

1809  America  passes  Non- Intercourse  Act. 
Battle  of  Corunna,  fan.  16. 
Wellesley  drives  Soult  from  Oporto. 
Battle  of  Talavera,  fjily  28. 
Expedition  against  Walcheren. 
Ministry  of  Spencer  Perceval. 
Revival  of  Parliamentary  Reform. 

1810  Battle  of  Busaco. 
Lines  of  Torres  Vedras. 

1811  Prince  of  Wales  becomes  Regent. 
Battle  of  Fuentes  d'Onore,  May  5. 
Luddite  Riots. 

1812  Assassination  of  Spencer  Perceval. 
Ministry  of  Lord  Liverpool. 

Storm  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo  and  Badajoz. 
America  declares  War  against  England. 
Battle  of  Salamanca,  fuly  22. 
Wellington  retreats  from  Burgos. 
Victories  of  American  Frigates. 

1813  Battle  of  Vitoria,  fune  21. 
Battles  of  the  Pyrenees. 
Wellington  enters  France,  Oct. 
Americans  attack  Canada. 

1814.     Battle  of  Orthes. 

Battle  of  Toulouse,  April  10. 

Battle  of  Chippewa,  fuly 

Raid  upon  Washington. 

British  repulses  at  Plattsburg  and   New 
Orleans. 
1815      Battle  of  Quatre  Bras,  fune  16. 

Battle  of  Waterloo,  fune  18. 

Treaty  of  Vienna. 

1819  Manchester  Massacre. 

1820  Cato  Street  Conspiracy. 
George  the  Fourth,  died  18301 
Bill  for  the  Queen's  Divorce. 

1822  Canning  Foreign  Minister. 

1823  Mr.  Huskisson  joins  the  Ministry. 

1826  Expedition  to  Portugal. 
Recognition  of  South  American  States. 

1827  Ministry  of  Mr.  Canning. 
Ministry  of  Lord  Goderich. 
Battle  of  Navarino. 

1828  Ministry  of  Duke  of  Wellington. 

1829  CatholicEmancipationB.il. 

1830  William  the  Fourth,  died  1337. 
Ministry  of  Lord  Grey. 

Opening  of  Liverpool  and  Manchester 
Railway. 

1831  Reform  Agiution. 

1832  Parliamentary  Reform  Bill  paited,  fune  7. 


xxxii 


CHRONOLOGICAL  ANNALS. 


1833 

Supprwuion  of  Colonial  Slavery. 

1848 

Suppression  of  the  Chartisu   and  Iiish 

E^Lst  Indian  trade  thrown  open. 

rebels. 

1834 

Ministry  of  Lord  Melbourne. 

1849 

Victory  of  Goojerat. 

New  Poor  Law.                                              / 
System  of  National  Education  begun. 

Annexation  of  the  Punjaub. 

1858 

Min'istry  of  Lord  Derby. 

Ministry  of  Sir  Robert  Peel. 

Ministry  of  Lord  Aberdeen. 

1835 

Ministry  of  Lord  Melbourne  replaced. 

1854 

Alliance  with  France  against  Rusmil 

Municipal  Corporation  Act. 

Siege  of  SebasopoL 

1836 

General  Registration  Act. 

Battle  of  Inkermann,  Nov.  5. 

Civil  Marriages  Act. 

1855 

Ministry  of  Lord  Palmerston. 

1837 

Victoria. 

Capture  of  Scbastopol. 

1838 

Fornjation  of  Anti-Com-Law  League. 

1856 

Peace  of  Paris  with  Russia. 

1839 

Committee  of  Privy  Council  for  Education 

1857 

Sepoy  Mutiny  in  BengaL 

instituted. 

1858 

Sovereignty  of  India  transferred  to  the 

Demands  for  a  People's  Charter. 

Crown. 

Revolt  in  Canada. 

Volunteer  movement. 

War  with  China. 

Second  Ministry  of  Lord  Derby. 

Occupation  of  Cabul. 

1859 

Second  Ministry  of  Ixjrd  Palmerston. 

1840 

Quadruple  Alliance  with  France,  Portugal 

1865 

Ministry  of  Lord  RussclL              X 
Third  Ministry  of  Lord  Derby. 

and  Spain. 

1866 

Bombardment  of  Acre.              y 
Ministry  of  Sir  Robert  PeeL  *^ 

1867 

Pariiamentary  Reform  BilL 

1841 

1868 

Ministry  of  Mr.  Disraeli. 

1842 

Income  Tax  revived. 

Ministry  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

Peace  with  China. 

1869 

Disestablishment  of  Episcopal  Church  tB 

Massacre  of  English  Army  in  Affghanistan. 

Ireland. 

Victories  of  Pollock  in  Affghanistan. 

1870 

Irish  Land  BilL 

Annexation  of  Scinde. 

Education  BilL 

1845 

Battles  of  Moodkee  and  Ferozeshah. 

1871 

Abolition  of  religious  tesu  b  Univeratsef 

1846 

Battle  of  Sobraon. 

Army  BilL 

Repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws.    ^ 

1872 

Ballot  BilL 

Ministry  of  Lord  John  RusmIL 

1874 

Second  Ministry  of  Mr.  DimelL     ^ 

GENEALOGICAL    TABLES 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


KINGS    OF    THE    HOUSE    OP    CERDIC,    PROM    ECGBERHT. 


ECGBERHT, 

r.  802-839. 

i^THELWULF, 
r.  830-857. 

.1 


iETHELBALD, 
r.  857-860. 


.ETHELBERHT, 

r.  860-866. 

r 

EADWARD 

THE  BLOER, 
r.  90Z-935. 


iETHELRED 

r.  866-871. 


JELTRED=£aJAswitJL 
r.  8/1-901. 


I  I  I 

yETHELSTAN,      EAT>MVNT>,  =  yE//^/u.        EADRED, 
r.  925-940.  r.  940-946.       I  r.  946-955. 


EADWIG, 

r-  955-959- 


f 
EADWARD 

THE    MAKTVR, 

r.  975-978. 


I.  jEthel/lad  =  EADGAR,  =a.  /Elfthrytk, 
I    •■•  959-975- 


I.  Namt  =  iETHELRED  II.  =  a.  Fmma  o^ 


HHcertain 


EADMUND  iRONSiDK, 
r.  Ap.  23-Nov.  30, 
1016, 
m.  Ealdgyth. 


Eadmund. 


Eadward, 

d.  1057. 

m.  Agatha, 


I 

Eadgar, 

elected 

Kingb 

looiS. 


Margaret, 

d.  1093. 

n,  Malcolm  III. 

King  of  Scots. 

Matilda, 

d.  1 1 18. 

m.  Htnry  I. 

Kin,// 

EngtuiiL 


r.  978-1016. 


iEIfred, 
killed  X036. 


Christina 


,  F  tutu  a  of 
Normtmay  =  a. 


Cnut, 
r.  ic  1 7-1035. 


1  \ 

EADWARD         Harthacnut, 

THB  r.  IO40-1042. 

CONFESSOR, 
r.  1043  iu66. 


DANISH  KINGS. 


THE     DANISH     KINGS. 


SWEIN   FORKBEARD. 
A.  1014, 

CNUT  =  Emma  0/ Normandy,  widow 
r.  1016-1035.  I  ofKing^thelredll. 


Swegen.  HARALD,  HARTHACNUT, 

r.  1035-1040.  r.  1040-1042. 

Illegitimate. 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


DUKES    OF    THE    NORMANS. 


HROLF, 

ist  Duke  of  the  Normans, 

r.  911-937. 

WILLIAM 

LONUSWORD, 
T.  937-943. 


■1 

r-  943- 


RICHARD 

THE   FEARLESS, 
«-.  943-996- 


RICHARD 

THE   GOOD, 
-.  996-1036, 


RICHARD  III. 
r.  1036-1038. 


I 

Emma. 

m.  I.  j^thelred  II.  of 

England. 
m.  a.  CnnJ  of  Englmnd 
xrn. 


and  Denmar 


ROBERT 

THE  ma(;nificent, 

r.  103  ..-1015. 

WILLIAM 

THE  CONQUEROR, 

r.  1035-1087. 


\ 

ROBERT  11. 

r.  1087-1096. 

(from  log's  to  1100 

the  Duchy  was 

held  bv  his 

brother  Will. am,) 

and  1100-1106, 
(when  he  was  over- 
thrown at  Tinche- 
brai  by  his 
brother  Henry  ) 


WILLIAM 

RUPUS, 
r.  1096-1100. 


HENRY  I. 
r.  1106-1135. 

Matilda, 
m.  GEOFFRY, 

COUNT  OK    ANJOi: 
AND   MAINE 

(who  won  the 

Duchy  from 

Stephen^ 

HENRY  n. 

invested  with  the 

Duchy  1 151. 

(L  1189. 


Adela, 

Ccttnt  of  Bhis. 

STEPHEN 

or  Di.ois, 

t.  1IJ5. 


RICHARD 

THB  LION   HEART. 

r.  1 189-1199. 


1 

JOHN, 

r.  1199-1304, 

(when  Nonnondy  «as  1 

Vy  Franca.) 


EDWARD  III.     HENRY  IV. 


kxxvii 


Claim  of   EDWARD    III.    to  the  French  Crown 


PHILIP  III. 

THE   BOLD, 
r.   1270-I2b5. 

PHILIP  IV. 

THE   FAIR, 

r.  1285-1314. 

1 

Charles,  Count 

of  Valois, 

d.  1325- 

LEWIS  X. 
r.  1314-1316. 

JOHN  I. 

15  N0V.-19  Nov 

1316. 

PHILIP  V.         CHARLES  IV. 

THE  LONG,                   THE  FAIR, 
r.  1316-1332.             r.  1322-1328. 

] 

Isabel. 

m.  Edward  II. 

of  England. 

iidward  in. 
of  England. 

1 
PHILIP  VI 

OF   VALOIS. 

r.  1328-1350. 
JOHN  IL 

THE  GOOD, 

r.  1 350-1 364. 

Descent  of    HENRY    IV 


HENRY  III. 

1 

EDW 

ARD  I. 
(VRD  II. 
lRD  III. 

Edmund, 

Earl  of  Lancaster. 

1 

EDW 
EDW^ 

\ 

Thomas, 

Earl  of  Lancaster, 

beheaded  1322. 

Henry 
EarlofLanca»t« 

Henry. 
Duke  of  LancastCT. 

John  of  Gaunt,        =        Blanche 
Duke  of  Lancaster.  of  Lancaster. 

HENRY  IV. 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES, 


HOU8B  or 


EDWARD 

I 


I 

Lionel,  Duke 
of  Clarence. 

Philippa, 

m.  Edmund 

Mortimer, 

Earl  of  March, 

Roger  Mortimer, 
Earl  of  March. 


Edmund 

Mortimer, 

Earl  of  March, 

d.  1434. 


Anne  Morti- 


Richaid 
Dukeot 
slain  at 


EDWARD  IV. 


Edmund, 

Earl  of  Rutland, 

slatn  at  »Vake- 

field,  Z460. 


Richard,  Elizabeth.  Katharine, 

Duke  of         m.  HENR  Y  m.  Sir 

York.  VII.  William 

Courtenay. 


Henry 
Courtenay, 

Marquis 
of  Exeter, 
beheaded 


«539. 

Edward 

Courtenay, 

Earl  of  Devon. 

d.  iss6. 


George, 

Duke  of 
Clarence, 
Isabel  Nevill*. 


r 

Edward, 

Earl  of 

Warwick, 

beheaded 

1499- 


Margaret, 
Countess  of 
Salisbury, 
beheaded 


mu  SirRi 


ickard 
I 


( 
Henry  Pole, 

Lord 

Montacute. 

beheaded 

>539- 


HOUSE  OF  YORK. 


xxxa 


YORK. 


III. 


ImkeofYork 


mer  =      Richard, 

Earl  of  Cam- 
bridge, 
beheaded  14 1^. 
Plantagenet, 
York, 
Wakefield,  1460. 


RICHARD  III. 
tft.  Anne  Neville. 


Edward, 

Prince  of  Wales. 

d.  1484. 


Elizabeth  :p  John  de  la  Pole 
Duke  of  Suffolk 

I 


Margaret, 

m.  Charles.,  Duke  of 

Burgundy. 


John  de  la  Pole, 

Earl  of  Lincoln, 

slain  at  Stoke,  1487. 


Edmund  de  la  Pole, 
Earl  of  Suffolk, 
beheaded  1513. 


1 

Ricnard  de  la  Pole, 

slain  at  the  battle 

of  Pavia,  1525. 


Reginald  Pole, 

Archbishop  of 

Canterbury, 

and  Cardinal. 

d.  1558. 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


DAUUHTEKS  OF  HExNRY  VII. 


xK 


11 m  ^"^• 

-        II 

II  ^^ 


It 

II 


S 


xlii  GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


THB    SOVEREIGNS 
Since  the 


WILLIAM  I. 
m.  Matilda 


I  I 

Robert,  WILLIAM  II. 

Duke  of  Normandy.  b.  about  1060. 
b.  about  1056,  d.  izoo. 

d.  1 1 34. 

William, 

Count  of  Flanders 

b.  iioi,  d.  ixaS 


Henry.  RXCHARD  I. 

b.  X155.  d.  ZZ83.  b.  1Z57.  d.  1x90. 


SOVEREIGNS  OF  ENGLAND. 


xliii 


OF    ENGLAND. 


Norman  Conquest. 


b.  about  1027,   d. 
of  Flanders. 


1087. 


HENRY   I. 

b.  ic68, 

d.  II35- 

m.  I.  Matilda  of 

Scotland. 

I 
Matilda, 
d.  1 167. 
nt.  2.  Geojfrey, 
Count  of 
A  njou. 

HENRY  II. 

b.  1133.  d.  1189. 

m.  Eleanor  of 

Aquitaine. 


Geoffrey, 

b.  1158,  d.  1186. 

nt.  Constance, 

heiress  of 

Britanny, 

Arthur, 
Duke  of 
Britanny, 
b.  1 187. 


Adela, 

d.  1 1 37. 

nt.  Stephen, 

Count  of 

Blots. 

I 

STEPHEN, 

d.  II54- 
m.  Matilda 
of  Boulogne. 


Eustace, 
Count  of 
Boulogne, 
d.  1153. 


JOHN, 

b.  1166.  d.  1216. 

nt,  2.  IsaSel  of 

A  ngouleme. 

HENRY  III. 

b.  1206,  d.  1272. 

m.  Eleanor  of 

Provence. 

EDWARD  I. 

b.  1239  d.  1307. 

nt.  I.  Eleanor 

of  Castile. 

I 

EDWARD  II. 

b,  1284, 

murdered  1327. 

r,i.  Isabel  of 

France. 

EDWARD  III. 

b.  1312.  n.  1377. 

nt.  Philippa  of 

Hainanlt. 

\See  next  page.^ 


William, 

Count  of 

Boulogne. 

d.  ii6(x 


xliv 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


THE    SOVEREIGNS 


EDWARD 
I 


f 
Edward, 
Prince  of 
Wales, 
b.  133a 
d.  1376. 


RICH.  II. 

b.  1366, 

deposed 

1399- 


Lionel, 
Duke  of 
Clarence, 
b.  1338. 
d.  1368. 


Philippa, 
m.  Edmund 
Mortimer^ 

Earl  of 

March. 

Ro^er 

Mortimer, 

Earl  of 

March. 


Edmund 

Mortimer, 

Earl  of 

March, 

d.  1414. 


Anne 
Mortimer, 
m.  Richard, 
Earl  of 
Cam- 
bridge, 
who  was 
beheeuUd, 
141s- 


Blanche,  =  John  of  Gaunt, 

Duke  of 

Lancaster, 

b.  about  134a 

d-  1399. 


daughter  of 

Henry,  Duke  of 

Lancaster. 


3.  Katharine 
Swynford. 


HENRY  IV. 

b.  1366,  d.  14 1 3. 

m.  I.  Mary  de 

Bohun. 


HENRY  V. 

b.  1388,  d.  1432. 
m.  Katharine  of 
France,  who  =  3.  Owen  Tudor. 

I  ( 


HENRY  VI. 

b.  142 1, 

d.  1471. 

m.  Margaret  of 

Anjou. 


Edward, 

Prince  of  Wales, 

b.  1453- 

slain  at 

Tewkesbury, 

1471. 


Edmund 
Tudor.  Earl 
of  Richmond. 


]o\m  Beaufort, 
arl  of  Somerset. 


John  Beaufort, 
Duke  of 
Somerset. 


Margaret 
Beaufort 


HENRY  VIL 
b.  1456,  d.  1509. 


[.  Katharine 
0/  A  ragon. 


HENRY  VIII. 
b.  1491,  d.  r547. 


MARY, 

b.  1516,  d.  I5s8. 
m.  Philip  qfSj  aim. 


ELIZABETH, 
^  «533.  d.  1603. 


Anne  Boleyn.        =        3.  Jaiu  Seymcnr. 


EDWARD  VI. 
b.  X537.  d.  1553- 


SOVEREIGNS  OF  ENGLAND. 


xlv 


OF    ENGLAND — continued. 


III. 


Edmund  of 

Langley, 

Duke  of  York, 

b.  1 341,  d.  140Z. 


Richard, 

Earl  of  Cambridge, 

beheaded  141 5. 

m.  Anne 

Mortimer. 

I 

Richard  Plantagenet, 

Duke  of  York, 

slain  at 

Wakefield,  1460. 


I 
EDWARD  IV. 

b.  1442,  d.  1483. 
nt.  Elizabeth 
Woodville. 


Elizabeth, 
d.  1503. 


EDWARD 

V. 

b.  1470. 


1 

Richard, 

Duke  of 

York, 

b.  1472. 


Margaret, 

b.  1489,  d.  1541. 

in.  I.  James  IV. 

King  of  Scots. 


James  V. 

King  of  Scots, 

d,  1542. 

Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots, 
beheaded,  1587. 

JAMES  I. 

b.  1566,  d.  1625. 

*%.  Anne  of  Denmark. 

[See  next page.l 


George,  Duke  of 
Clarence,  b.  1449,  d.  1478. 


Edward, 

Earl  of 

Warwick, 

beheaded 

1499. 


1 
Margaret, 
Countess  of 
Salisbury, 
beh.  1 54 1, 
m.  Sir 
Richard 
Pole. 


Mary, 

b.  1498,  d.  1533. 

m.  2.  Charles 

Brandon,  Duke  of 

Suffolk. 

Frances  Brandon, 
m.  Henry  Grey, 
Duke  ofSitffolk. 

Jane  Grey, 

beheaded,  1554. 

m.  Lord  Guildford 

Dudley. 


RICHARD  III. 

b.  1452,  d.  1485. 
m.  Anne  Neville. 


Edward, 
Prince  of  Wales, 
b.  1473,  d.  1484. 


xlvi 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES. 


THE    SOVEREIGNS 


Charles  I. 

b.  1600,  beheaded  1649. 

m.  Henrietta  Maria  of  Franc*. 


CHARLES  II. 
b.  1630,  d.  1685. 


I 
Anne  Hyde  r^  JAMES  II.  =f  2.  Mary  of 
b.  1633,  MotUna. 

d.  1701. 


MARY, 

b.  1662, 
d.  1694. 

WILLIAM 
III. 


ANNE, 
b.  1665. 
d.  1714. 


James  Francis 

Edward  Stuart, 

the  Old 

Pretender, 

b.  1688,  d.  1766. 

r 


Charles 

Edward 
Stuart,  the 

Young 
Pretender, 

b.  1720, 
\  i7»8. 


Henry 
Benedict 
Stuart, 
Cardinal 

Y-rk, 
b.  1725. 
d-  1807. 


JAMES 


Marj-, 
b.  1631,  died  i66a 

m,  IVilliam, 
Prince  of  Orange. 


WILLIAM  IIL 

b.  1650.  d.  1702. 

m.  MARY  OF 

ENGLAND. 


SOVEREIGNS  OF  ENGLAND. 


xlvii 


OF    ENGLAND — continued. 


Elizabeth, 

b.  1596,  d.  1662. 

m.  Frederick, 

Elector  Palatine. 

I. 

Sophia, 

d.  1 7 14. 

m.  Ernest  A  iigustus. 

Elector  of  Hanover. 


GEORGE  I. 

b.  1660,  d.  1727. 
Sophia  Dorothsi. 
of  Z ell. 


GEORGE  II 

b.  1683,  d.  1700. 

nt.  Caroline  of 

Brandenburg- 

A  ttspach. 

Frederick, 
Jt*rince  of  Wales, 
b.  1707,  d.  1 75 1. 

GEORGE  III. 

b.  1738,  d.  1820. 

nt.  Charlotte  of 

Mecklenburg- 

Strelitz. 

I 


GEORGE  IV. 

b.  t;62,  d.  1830. 

m.  Caroline  of 

Bnins7uick- 

Wolfenbuttel 

Charlotte, 
b.  1796,  d.  1817. 


WILLIAM  IV. 
b.  1765,  d.  1837. 


Edward, 
Duke  of  Kent, 
b.  1767,  d.  1820. 


VICTORIA, 

b.  1819. 

m.  Prince  Albert  of 

Saxe-  Coburg  and 

Gotha. 


\ 

Ernest  Augustus 

King  of  Hanover 

b.  1771,  d.  1851. 


A   SHORT    HISTORY 


THE    ENGLISH    PEOPLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE   ENGLISH  KINGDOMS,  607—1013. 
Ssction  I.— Britain  and  the  Engrlish. 

\AutHbrities . — For  the  constitution  and  settlement  of  the  English,  see 
Kemble's  "Saxons  in  England"  and  especially  the  "Constitutional  History 
of  England  "  by  Dr.  Stubbs.  Sir  Francis  Palgrave's  History  of  the  English 
Commonwealth  is  valuable,  but  to  be  used  with  care.  A  vigorous  and  accurate 
sketch  of  the  early  constitution  may  be  found  in  Mr.  Freeman's  History  of 
the  Norman  Conquest,  vol.  i.  See  also  "The  Making  of  England"  and 
"The  Conquest  of  England"  by  J.  R.  Green.] 

For  the  fatherland  of  the  English  race  we  must  look  far  away  from 
England  itself.  In  the  fifth  century  after  the  birth  of  Christ,  the  one 
country  which  we  know  to  have  borne  the  name  of  Angeln  or  the 
Engleland  lay  in  the  district  which  we  now  call  Sleswick,  a  district  in 
the  heart  of  the  peninsula  which  parts  the  Baltic  from  the  northern 
seas.  Its  pleasant  pastures,  its  black-timbered  homesteads,  its  prim 
little  townships  looking  down  on  inlets  of  purple  water,  were  then  but 
a  wild  waste  of  heather  and  sand,  girt  along  the  coast  with  sunless 
woodland,  broken  here  and  there  by  meadows  which  crept  down  to 
the  marshes  and  the  sea.  The  dwellers  in  this  district,  however, 
seem  to  have  been  merely  an  outlying  fragment  of  what  was  called 
the  Engle  or  English  folk,  the  bulk  of  whom  lay  probably  along  the 
middle  Elbe  and  on  the  Weser.  To  the  north  of  the  English  in  their 
bleswick  home  lay  another  kindred  tribe,  the  Jutes,  whose  name  is 
still  preserver^  in  their  district  of  Jutland.      To  the  south  of  them 


Old 
EniTlamA 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


.CHAP. 


a  number  of  German  tribes  had  drawn  together  in  their  home- 
land between  the  Elbe  and  the  Ems,  and  in  a  wide  tract  across  the 
Ems  to  the  Rhine,  into  the  people  of  the  Saxons.  Engle,  Saxon, 
and  Jute  all  belonged  to  the  same  Low  German  branch  of  the  Teutonic 
family  ;  and  at  the  moment  when  history  discovers  them,  they  were 
being  drawn  together  by  the  ties  of  a  common  blood,  common  speech, 
common  social  and  political  institutions.  Each  of  them  was  destined 
to  share  in  the  conquest  of  the  land  in  which  we  live  ;  and  it  is  from 
the  union  of  all  of  them  when  its  conquest  was  complete  that  the 
English  people  has  sprung. 

Of  the  temper  and  life  of  the  folk  in  this  older  England  we  know 
little.  But,  from  the  glimpses  which  we  catch  of  them  when  conquest 
had  brought  them  to  the  shores  of  Britain,  their  political  and  social 
organizationmust  have  been  that  of  the  German  race  to  whi  :h  they 
belonged.  The  basis  of  their  society  was  the  free  man.  He  alone 
was  known  as  "  the  man,"  or  "  the  churl ;  "  and  two  phrases  set  his 
freedom  vividly  before  us.  He  was  "  the  free-necked  man,"  whose 
long  hair  floated  over  a  neck  that  had  never  bent  to  a  lord.  He  was 
"  the  weaponed  man,"  who  alone  bore  spear  and  sword,  for  he  alone 
possessed  the  right  which  in  such  a  state  of  society  formed  the  main 
check  upon  lawless  outrage,  the  right  of  private  war.  Among  the 
English,  as  among  all  the  races  of  mankind,  justice  had  originally 
sprung  from  each  man's  personal  action.  There  had  been  a  time 
when  every  freeman  was  his  own  avenger.  But  even  in  the  earliest 
forms  of  English  society  of  which  we  catch  traces  this  right  of  self- 
defence  was  being  modified  and  restricted  by  a  growing  sense  of  public 
justice.  The  "blood-wite,"  or  compensation  in  money  for  personal 
wrong,  was  the  first  effort  of  the  tribe  as  a  whole  to  regulate  private 
revenge.  The  freeman's  life  and  the  freeman's  limb  had  each  on  this 
system  its  legal  price.  "  Eye  for  eye,"  ran  the  rough  customary  code, 
and  "  limb  for  limb,"  or  for  each  fair  damages.  We  see  a  further  step 
towards  the  recognition  of  a  wrong  as  done  not  to  the  individual  man, 
but  to  the  people  at  large,  in  another  custom  of  early  date.  The  price 
of  life  or  limb  was  paid,  not  by  the  wrong  doer  to  the  man  he  wronged, 
but  by  the  family  or  house  of  the  wrong-doer  to  the  family  or  house 
of  the  wronged.  Order  and  law  were  thus  made  to  rest  in  each  little 
group  of  English  people  upon  the  blood-bond  which  knit  its  families 
together  ;  every  outrage  was  held  to  have  been  done  by  all  who  were 
linked  by  blood  to  the  doer  of  it,  every  crime  to  have  been  done 
against  all  who  were  linked  by  blood  to  the  sufferer  from  it  From 
this  sense  of  the  value  of  the  family  bond,  as  a  means  of  restraining 
the  wrong-doer  by  forces  which  the  tribe  as  a  whole  did  not  as  yet 
possess,  sprang  the  first  rude  forms  of  English  justice.  Each  kinsman 
was  his  kinsman's  keeper,  bound  to  protect  him  from  wrong,  to  hinder 
him  from  wrong-doing,  and  to  suffer  with  and  pay  for  him,  it  wron^f 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


were  done.  So  fully  was  this  principle  recognized  that,  even  if  any 
man  was  charged  before  his  fellow-tribesmen  with  crime,  his  kinsfolk 
still  remained  in  fact  his  sole  judges  ;  for  it  was  by  their  solemn  oath 
of  his  innocence  or  his  guilt  that  he  had  to  stand  or  fall. 

The  blood-bond  gave  both  its  military  and  social  form  to  Old  English 
society.  Kinsmen  fought  side  by  side  in  the  hour  of  battle,  and  the 
feelings  of  honour  and  discipline  which  held  the  host  together  were 
drawn  from  the  common  duty  of  every  man  in  each  little  group  of 
warriors  to  his  house.  And  as  they  fought  side  by  side  on  the  field, 
so  they  dwelled  side  by  side  on  the  soil.  Harling  abode  by  Harling, 
and  Billing  by  Billing;  and  each  "wick"  or  "ham"  or  "stead"  or 
"  tun"  took  its  name  from  the  kinsmen  who  dwelt  together  in  it.  The 
home  or  "  ham"  of  the  Billings  would  be  Billingham,  and  the  "tun" 
or  township  of  the  Harlings  would  be  Harlington.  But  in  such 
settlements,  the  tie  of  blood  was  widened  into  the  larger  tie  of  land. 
Land  with  the  German  race  seems  at  a  very  early  time  to  have  become 
the  accompaniment  of  full  freedom.  The  freeman  was  strictly  the 
freeholder,  and  the  exercise  of  his  full  rights  as  a  free  member  of  the 
community  to  which  he  belonged  was  inseparable  from  the  possession 
of  his  "  holding."  The  landless  man  ceased  for  all  practical  purposes  to 
be  free,  though  he  was  no  man's  slave.  In  the  very  earliest  glimpse 
we  get  of  the  German  race  we  see  them  a  race  of  land-holders  and 
land-tillers.  Tacitus,  the  first  Roman  who  sought  to  know  these 
destined  conquerors  of  Rome,  describes  them  as  pasturing  on 
the  forest  glades  around  their  villages,  and  ploughing  their  village 
fields.  A  feature  which  at  once  struck  him  as  parting  them  from  the 
civilized  world  to  which  he  himself  belonged,  was  their  hatred  of  cities, 
and  their  love  even  within  their  little  settlements  of  a  jealous  indepen- 
dence. "  They  live  apart,"  he  says,  "  each  by  himself,  as  woodside, 
plain,  or  fresh  spring  attracts  him."  And  as  each  dweller  within  the 
settlement  was  jealous  of  his  own  isolation  and  independence  among 
his  fellow  settlers,  so  each  settlement  was  jealous  of  its  independence 
amo:  g  its  fellow  settlements.  Of  the  character  of  their  life  in  this 
early  world,  however,  we  know  little  save  what  may  be  gathered  from 
the  indications  of  a  later  time.  Each  little  farmer  commonwealth  was 
girt  in  by  its  own  border  or  "  mark,"  a  belt  of  forest  or  waste  or  fen 
which  parted  it  from  its  fellow  villages,  a  ring  of  common  ground 
which  none  of  its  settlers  might  take  for  his  own,  but  which  sometimes 
served  as  a  death-ground  where  criminals  met  their  doom,  and  was 
held  to  be  the  special  dwelling-place  of  the  nixie  and  the  will-o'-the- 
wisp.  If  a  stranger  came  through  this  wood,  or  over  this  waste, 
custom  bade  him  blow  his  horn  as  he  came,  for  if  he  stole  through 
secretly  he  was  taken  for  a  foe,  and  any  man  might  lawfully  slay  him. 
Inside  this  boundary  the  "township,"  as  the  village  was  then  called 
from  the  "  tun  "  or  rough  fence  and  trench  that  served  as  its  simple 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


fortification,  formed  a  ready-made  fortress  in  war,  while  in  peace  its 
entrenchments  were  serviceable  in  the  feuds  of  village  with  village,  or 
house  with  house.  Within  the  village  we  find  from  the  first  a  marked 
social  diflference  between  two  orders  of  its  indwellers.  The  bulk  of 
its  homesteads  were  those  of  its  freemen  or  "  ceorls  ; "  but  amongst 
these  were  the  larger  homes  of  "  eorls,"  or  men  distinguished  among 
their  fellows  by  noble  blood,  who  were  held  in  an  hereditary  reverence, 
and  from  whom  the  leaders  of  the  village  were  chosen  in  war  time, 
or  rulers  in  time  of  peace.  But  the  choice  was  a  purely  voluntary 
one,  and  the  man  of  noble  blood  enjoyed  no  legal  privilege  among 
his  fellows.  The  holdings  of  the  freemen  clustered  round  a  moot- 
hill  or  sacred  tree  where  the  community  met  from  time  to  time  to 
order  its  own  industry  and  to  frame  its  own  laws.  Here  plough-land 
and  meadow-land  were  shared  in  due  lot  among  the  villagers,  and 
field  and  homestead  passed  from  man  to  man.  Here  strife  of  farmer 
with  farmer  was  settled  according  to  the  "  customs  "  of  the  township 
as  its  "  elder  men  "  stated  them,  and  the  wrong-doer  was  judged  and 
his  fine  assessed  by  the  kinsfolk  ;  and  here  men  were  chosen  to  follow 
headman  or  ealdorman  to  hundred  court  or  war.  It  is  with  a  reverence 
such  as  is  stirred  by  the  sight  of  the  head-waters  of  some  mighty 
river  that  one  looks  back  to  these  tiny  moots,  where  the  men  of  the 
village  met  to  order  the  village  life  and  the  village  industry,  as  their 
descendants,  the  men  of  a  later  England,  meet  in  Parliament  at 
Westminster,  to  frame  laws  and  do  justice  for  the  great  empire 
which  has  sprung  from  this  little  body  of  farmer-commonwealths  in 
Sleswick. 

The  religion  of  the  English  was  the  same  as  that  of  the  whole 
German  family.  Christianity,  which  had  by  this  time  brought  about 
the  conversion  of  the  Roman  Empire,  had  not  penetrated  as  yet  among 
the  forests  of  the  North.  Our  own  names  for  the  days  of  the  week  still 
recall  to  us  the  gods  whom  our  fathers  worshipped.  Wednesday 
is  the  day  of  Woden,  the  war-god,  the  guardian  of  ways  and  boundaries, 
the  inventor  of  letters,  the  common  god  of  the  whole  conquering  people, 
whom  every  tribe  held  to  be  the  first  ancestor  of  its  kings.  Thursday 
is  the  day  of  Thunder,  or,  as  the  Northmen  called  him,  Thor,  the  god 
of  air  and  storm  and  rain  ;  as  Friday  is  Frea's-day,  the  god  of  peace 
and  joy  and  fruitfulness,  whose  emblems,  borne  aloft  by  dancing 
maidens,  brought  increase  to  every  field  and  stall  they  visited.  Saturday 
may  commemorate  an  obscure  god  Saetere  ;  Tuesday  the  dark  god 
Tiw,  to  meet  whom  was  death.  Behind  these  floated  dim  shapes  of  an 
older  mythology  ;  Eostre,  the  goddess  of  the  dawn,  or  of  the  spring,  who 
lends  her  name  to  the  Christian  festival  of  the  Resurrection;  "Wyrd," 
the  death-goddess,  whose  memory  lingered  long  in  the  "  weird  "  of 
northern  superstition;  or  the  Shield-Maidens,  the  "  mighty  women  " 
who,  an  old  rime  tells  us,  "  wrought  on  the  battle-field  their  toil,  and 


'.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


hurled  the  thrilhng  javelins."  Nearer  to  the  popular  fancy  lay  deities 
of  wood  and  fell,  or  the  hero-gods  of  legend  and  song  ;  "  Nicor,"  the 
water-sprite,  who  gave  us  our  water-nixies  and  "  Old  Nick" ;  "  Weland," 
the  forger  of  mighty  shields  and  sharp-biting  swords,  whose  memory 
lingers  in  the  stories  of  "  Weyland's  Smithy  "  in  Berkshire  ;  while  the 
name  of  Ailesbury  may  preserve  the  last  trace  of  the  legend  of  Weland's 
brother,  the  sun-archer  ^gil.  But  it  is  only  in  broken  fragments 
that  this  mass  of  early  faith  and  early  poetry  still  lives  for  us,  in  a 
name,  in  the  grey  stones  of  a  cairn,  or  in  snatches  of  our  older  song  : 
and  the  faint  traces  of  worship  or  of  priesthood  which  we  find  in  later 
history  show  how  lightly  it  clung  to  the  national  life. 

From  Sleswick  and  the  shores  of  the  Northern  Sea  we  must  pass, 
before  opening  our  story,  to  a  land  which,  dear  as  it  is  now  to  Eng- 
lishmen, had  not  as  yet  been  trodden  by  English  feet.  The  island  of 
Britain  had  for  nearly  four  hundred  years  been  a  province  of  the  Empire. 
A  descent  of  Julius  Caesar  revealed  it  (B.C.  55)  to  the  Roman  world,  but 
nearly  a  century  elapsed  before  the  Emperor  Claudius  attempted  its 
definite  conquest.  The  victories  of  Julius  Agricola  (a.d.  78 — 84)  carried 
the  Roman  frontier  to  the  Firths  of  Forth  and  of  Clyde,  and  the  work 
of  Roman  civilization  followed  hard  upon  the  Roman  sword.  Popula- 
tion was  grouped  in  cities  such  as  York  or  Lincoln,  cities  governed  by 
their  own  municipal  officers,  guarded  by  massive  walls,  and  linked 
together  by  a  network  of  roads,  which  extended  from  one  end  of  the 
island  to  the  other.  Commerce  sprang  up  in  ports  like  that  of  London ; 
agriculture  flourished  till  Britain  was  able  at  need  to  supply  the 
necessities  of  Gaul ;  its  mineral  resources  were  explored  in  the  tin 
mines  of  Cornwall,  the  lead  mines  of  Somerset  and  Northumberland, 
and  the  iron  mines  of  the  Forest  of  Dean.  The  wealth  of  the  island 
grew  fast  during  centuries  of  unbroken  peace,  but  the  evils  which  were 
slowly  sapping  the  strength  of  the  Roman  Empire  at  large  must  have 
told  heavily  on  the  real  wealth  of  the  province  of  Britain.  Here,  as  in 
Italy  or  Gaul,  the  population  probably  declined  as  the  estates  of  the 
landed  proprietors  grew  larger,  and  the  cultivators  sank  into  serfs  whose 
cabins  clustered  round  the  luxurious  villas  of  their  lords.  The  mines, 
if  worked  by  forced  labour,  must  have  been  a  source  of  endless  oppres- 
sion. Town  and  country  were  alike  crushed  by  heavy  taxation,  while 
industry  was  fettered  by  laws  that  turned  every  trade  into  an  hereditary 
caste.  Above  all,  the  purely  despotic  system  of  the  Roman  Govern- 
ment, by  crushing  all  local  independence,  crushed  all  local  vigour. 
Men  forgot  how  to  fight  for  their  country  when  they  forgot  how  to 
govern  it. 

Such  causes  of  decay  were  common  to  every  province  of  the  Empire ; 
but  there  were  others  that  sprang  from  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
Britain  itself.  The  island  was  weakened  by  a  disunion  within,  which 
arose  from  the  partial  character  of  its  civilization.     It  was  only  in  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


towns  that  the  conquered  Britons  became  entirely  Romanized.  Cver 
large  tracts  :)f  country  the  rural  Britons  seemed  to  have  remained 
apart,  speaking  their  own  tongue,  owning  some  traditional  allegiance 
to  their  native  chiefs,  and  even  retaining  their  native  laws.  The  use 
of  the  Roman  language  may  be  taken  as  marking  the  progress  of 
Roman  civilization,  and  though  Latin  had  wholly  superseded  the 
language  of  the  conquered  peoples  in  Spain  or  Gaul,  its  use  seems  to 
have  been  confined  in  Britain  to  the  townsfolk  and  the  wealthier 
landowners  without  the  towns.  The  dangers  that  sprang  from  such  a 
severance  between  the  two  elements  of  the  population  must  have  been 
stirred  into  active  life  by  the  danger  which  threatened  Britain  from  the 
North.  The  Picts  who  had  been  sheltered  from  Roman  conquest  by 
the  fastnesses  of  the  Highlands  were  roused  in  their  turn  to  attack  by 
the  weakness  of  the  province  and  the  hope  of  plunder.  Their  inva- 
sions penetrated  to  the  heart  of  the  island.  Raids  so  extensive  could 
hardly  have  been  effected  without  help  from  within,  and  the  dim 
history  of  the  time  allows  us  to  see  not  merely  an  increase  of  disunion 
between  the  Romanized  and  un-Romanized  population  of  Britain,  but 
even  an  alliance  between  the  last  and  their  free  kinsfolk,  the  Picts. 
The  struggles  of  Britain,  however,  lingered  on  till  dangers  nearer 
home  forced  the  Empire  to  recall  its  legions  and  leave  the  province 
to  itself.  Ever  since  the  birth  of  Christ  the  countries  which  lay  round 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  which  then  comprehended  the  whole  of 
the  civilized  world,  had  rested  in  peace  beneath  the  rule  of  Rome. 
During  four  hundred  years  its  frontier  had  held  at  bay  the  barbarian 
world  without — the  Parthian  of  the  Euphrates,  the  iNumidian  of  the 
African  desert,  the  German  of  the  Danube  or  the  Rhine.  It  was  this 
mass  of  savage  barbarism  that  at  last  broke  in  on  the  Empire  as  it 
sank  into  decay.  In  the  western  dominions  of  Rome  the  triumph  of 
the  invaders  was  complete.  The  Franks  conquered  and  colonized 
Gaul.  The  West-Goths  conquered  and  colonized  Spain.  The  Vandals 
founded  a  kingdom  in  Africa.  The  Burgundians  encamped  in  the 
border-land  between  Italy  and  the  Rhone.  The  East-Goths  ruled  at 
last  in  Italy  itself.  And  now  that  the  fated  hour  was  come,  the  Saxon 
and  the  Engle  too  closed  upon  their  prey. 

It  was  to  defend  Italy  against  the  Goths  that  Rome  in  410  recalled 
her  legions  from  Britain.  The  province,  thus  left  unaided,  seems  to 
have  fought  bravely  against  its  assailants,  and  once  at  least  to  have 
driven  back  the  Picts  to  their  mountains  in  a  rising  of  despair.  But 
the  threat  of  fresh  inroads  found  Britain  torn  with  civil  quarrels  which 
made  a  united  resistance  impossible,  while  its  Pictish  enemies 
strengthened  themselves  by  a  league  with  marauders  from  Ireland, 
(Scots  as  they  were  then  called),  whose  pirate-boats  were  harrying  the 
western  coast  of  the  island,  and  with  a  yet  more  formidable  race  of 
pirates  who  had  long  been  pillaging  along  the  British  ChanneL     These 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


were  the  English.  We  do  not  know  whether  it  was  the  pressure  of 
other  tribes  or  the  example  of  their  German  brethren  who  were  now 
moving  in  a  general  attack  on  the  Empire  from  their  forest  homes,  or 
simply  the  barrenness  of  their  coast,  which  drove  the  hunters,  farmers, 
fishermen,  of  the  English  tribes  to  sea.  But  the  daring  spirit  of  their 
race  already  broke  out  in  the  secresy  and  suddenness  of  their  swoop, 
in  the  fierceness  of  their  onset,  in  the  careless  glee  with  which  they 
seized  either  sword  or  bar.  "  Foes  are  they,"  sang  a  Roman  poet  of 
the  time,  "  fierce  beyond  other  foes,  and  cunning  as  they  are  fierce  ; 
the  sea  is  their  school  of  war,  and  the  storm  their  friend  ;  they  are  sea- 
wolves  that  live  on  the  pillage  of  the  wocld."  To  meet  the  league  of 
Pict,  Scot,  and  Saxon  by  the  forces  of  the  province  itself  became  im- 
possible ;  and  the  one  course  left  was  to  imitate  the  fatal  policy  by 
which  the  Empire  had  invited  its  own  doom  while  striving  to  avert  it, 
the  policy  of  matching  barbarian  against  barbarian.  The  rulers  of 
Britain  resolved  to  break  the  league  by  detaching  from  it  the  free- 
booters who  were  harrying  her  eastern  coast,  and  to  use  their  new  allies 
against  the  Pict.  By  the  usual  promises  of  land  and  pay,  a  band  of 
warriors  from  Jutland  were  drawn  for  this  purpose  in  449  to  the  shores 
of  Britain,  with  their  chiefs,  Hengest  and  Horsa,  at  their  head. 


Section  II.— The  English  Conquest.    449—577. 

{Authorities  for  the  Conquest  of  Britain. — The  only  extant  British  account  is 
that  of  the  monk  Gildas,  diffuse  and  inflated,  but  valuable  as  the  one  authority 
for  the  state  of  the  island  at  the  time,  and  as  giving,  in  the  conclusion  of  his 
work,  the  native  story  of  the  conquest  of  Kent.  I  have  examined  his 
general  character,  and  the  objections  to  his  authenticity,  &c.,  in  two  papers 
in  the  Saturday  Review  for  April  24  and  May  8,  1869.  The  conquest  of  Kent 
is  the  only  one  of  which  we  have  any  record  from  the  side  of  the  conquered. 
The  English  conquerors  have  left  brief  jottings  of  the  conquest  of  Kent, 
Sussex,  and  Wessex,  in  the  curious  annals  which  form  the  opening  of  the 
compilation  now  known  as  the  **  English  Chronicle."  They  are  undoubtedly 
historic,  though  with  a  slight  mythical  intermixture.  We  possess  no  materials 
for  the  history  of  the  English  in  their  invasion  of  Mid-Britain  or  Mercia,  and  a 
fragment  of  the  annals  of  Northumbria  embodied  in  the  later  compilation 
which  bears  the  name  of  Nennius  -alone  throws  light  upon  their  actions  in 
the  North.  Dr.  Guest's  papers  in  the  "Origines  Celticae "  are  the  best 
modem  narratives  of  the  conquest.  The  story  has  since  been  told  by  Mr. 
Green  in  "The  Making  of  England.] 

It  is  with  the  landing  of  Hengest  and  his  war-band  at  Ebbsfleet 
on  the  shores  of  the  Isle  of  Thanet  that  English  history  begins.  No 
spot  in  Britain  can  be  so  sacred  to  Englishmen  as  that  which  first  felt 
the  tread  of  English  feet.  There  is  little  indeed  to  catch  the  eye  in 
Ebbsfleet  itself,  a  mere  lift  of  higher  ground,  with  a  few  grey  cottages 
dotted  over  it,  cut  off  nowadays  from  the  sea  by  a  reclaimed  meadow 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


and  a  sea-wall.  But  taken  as  a  whole,  the  scene  has  a  wild  beauty  of 
its  own.  To  the  right  the  white  curve  of  Ramsgate  cliffs  looks  down 
on  the  crescent  of  Pegwell  Bay  ;  far  away  to  the  left,  across  grey 
marsh-levels,  where  smoke-wreaths  mark  the  sites  of  Kichborough 
and  Sandwich,  the  coast-line  bends  dimly  to  the  fresh  rise  of  cliffs 
beyond  Deal.  Everything  in  the  character  of  the  ground  confirms  the 
national  tradition  which  fixed  here  the  first  landing-place  of  our  English 
fathers,  for  great  as  the  physical  changes  of  the  country  have  been 
since  the  fifth  century,  they  have  told  little  on  its  main  features.  It  is 
easy  to  discover  in  the  misty  level  of  the  present  Minster  marsh  what 
was  once  a  broad  inlet  of  sea  parting  Thanet  from  the  mainland  of 
Britain,  through  which  the  pirate-boats  of  the  first  Englishmen  came 
sailmg  with  a  fair  wind  to  the  little  gravel-spit  of  Ebbsfleet ;  and 
Richborough,  a  fortress  whose  broken  ramparts  still  rise  above  the 
grey  flats  which  have  taken  the  place  of  this  older  sea-channel,  was 
the  common  landing-place  of  travellers  from  Gaul.  If  the  war-ships 
of  the  pirates  therefore  were  cruising  off  the  coast  at  the  moment 
when  the  bargain  with  the  Britons  was  concluded,  their  disembarka. 
tion  at  Ebbsfleet  almost  beneath  the  walls  of  Richborough  would  be 
natural  enough.  But  the  after-current  of  events  serves  to  show  that 
the  choice  of  this  landing-place  was  the  result  of  a  settled  design. 
Between  the  Briton  and  his  hireling  soldiers  there  could  be  little  trust. 
Quarters  in  Thanet  would  satisfy  the  followers  of  Hengest,  who  still 
lay  in  sight  of  their  fellow-pirates  in  the  Channel,  and  who  felt  them- 
selves secured  against  the  treachery  which  had  so  often  proved  fatal  to 
the  barbarian  by  the  broad  inlet  which  parted  their  camp  from  the 
mainland.  Nor  was  the  choice  less  satisfactory  to  the  provincial, 
tremblin;^^ — and,  as  the  event  proved,  justly  trembling — lest  in  his  zeal 
against  the  Pict  he  had  introduced  an  even  fiercer  foe  into  Britain. 
His  dangerous  allies  were  cooped  up  in  a  corner  of  the  land,  and 
parted  from  it  by  a  sea-channel  which  was  guarded  by  the  strongest 
fortresses  of  the  coast. 

The  need  of  such  precautions  was  seen  in  the  disputes  which  arose 
as  soon  as  the  work  for  which  the  mercenaries  had  been  hired  was 
done.  The  Picts  were  hardly  scattered  to  the  winds  in  a  great  battle 
when  danger  came  from  the  Jutes  theriiselves.  Their  numbers  probably 
grew  fast  as  tiie  news  of  the  settlement  spread  among  the  pirates  in  the 
Channel,  and  with  the  increase  of  their  number  must  have  grown  the 
difficulty  of  supplying  rations  and  pay.  The  dispute  which  rose  over 
these  questions  was  at  last  closed  by  Hcngest's  men  with  a  threat  of 
war.  The  threat,  however,  as  we  have  seen,  was  no  easy  one  to  carry 
out.  Right  across  their  path  in  any  attack  upon  Britain  stretched 
the  inlet  of  sea  that  parted  Thanet  from  the  mainland,  a  strait  which 
was  then  traversable  only  at  low  water  by  a  long  and  dangerous  ford, 
and  guarded  at  either  mouth  by  the  fortresses  of  Richborough  and 


1-] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


Rcculver.  The  channel  of  the  Medway,  with  the  forest  of  the  Weald 
bending  round  it  from  the  south,  furnished  another  line  of  defence  in 
the  rear,  while  strongholds  on  the  sites  of  our  Canterbury  and  Rochester 
guarded  the  road  to  London  ;  and  all  around  lay  the  soldiers  placed 
at  the  command  of  the  Count  of  the  Saxon  Shore,  to  hold  the  coast 
against  the  barbarian.  Great  however  as  these  difficulties  were,  they 
failed  to  check  the  sudden  onset  of  the  Jutes.  The  inlet  seems  to 
have  been  crossed,  the  coast-road  to  London  seized,  before  any  force 
could  be  collected  to  oppose  the  English  advance ;  and  it  was  only 
when  they  passed  the  Swale  and  looked  to  their  right  over  the 
potteries  whose  refuse  still  strews  the  mudbanks  of  Upchurch,  that 
their  march  seems  to  have  swerved  abruptly  to  the  south.  The  guarded 
walls  of  Rochester  probably  forced  them  to  turn  southwards  along  the 
ridge  of  low  hills  which  forms  the  eastern  boundary  of  the  Medway 
valley.  Their  way  led  them  through  a  district  full  of  memories  of  a 
past  which  had  even  then  faded  from  the  minds  of  men  ;  for  the  hill- 
slopes  which  they  traversed  were  the  grave-ground  of  a  vanished  race, 
and  scattered  among  the  boulders  that  strewed  the  ground  rose  the 
cromlechs  and  huge  barrows  of  the  dead.  One  mighty  relic  survives 
in  the  monument  now  called  Kit's  Coty  House,  which  had  been  linked 
in  old  days  by  an  avenue  of  huge  stones  to  a  burial-ground  near 
Addington.  It  was  from  a  steep  knoll  on  which  the  grey  weather- 
beaten  stones  of  this  monument  are  reared  that  the  view  of  their  first 
battle-field  would  break  on  the  English  warriors ;  and  a  lane  which  still 
leads  down  from  it  through  peaceful  homesteads  would  guide  them 
across  the  ford  which  has  left  its  name  in  the  little  village  of  Aylesford. 
The  Chronicle  of  the  conquering  people  tells  nothing  of  the  rush  that 
may  have  carried  the  ford,  or  of  the  fight  that  went  struggling  up 
through  the  village.  It  only  tells  that  Horsa  fell  in  the  moment  of 
victory  ;  and  the  flint-heap  of  Horsted,  which  has  long  preserved  his 
name,  and  was  held  in  after-time  to  mark  his  grave,  is  thus  the  earliest 
of  those  monuments  of  English  valour  of  which  Westminster  is  the 
last  and  noblest  shrine. 

The  victory  of  Aylesford  did  more  than  give  East  Kent  to  the  English ; 
it  struck  the  key-note  of  the  whole  English  conquest  of  Britain.  The 
massacre  which  followed  the  battle  indicated  at  once  the  merciless 
nature  of  the  struggle  which  had  begun.  While  the  wealthier  Kentish 
landowners  fled  in  panic  over  sea,  the  poorer  Britons  took  refuge  in 
hill  and  forest  till  hunger  drove  them  from  their  /urking-places  to  be 
cut  down  or  enslaved  by  their  conquerors.  It  was  in  vain  that  some 
sought  shelter  within  the  walls  of  their  churches  ;  for  the  rage  of  the 
English  seems  to  have  burned  fiercest  against  the  clergy.  The  priests 
were  slain  at  the  altar,  the  churches  fired,  the  peasants  driven  by  the 
flames  to  fling  themselves  on  a  ring  of  pitiless  steel.  It  is  a  picture 
«uck  as  this  which  distinguishes  the  conquest  of  Britain  from  that  of 


Sic  II. 

The 

English 
conqubst 

TO 


455 


Ext«r. 
iminatioti 

of  the 
Brito&s 


lO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


CHAP. 


Sbc.  II. 

The 
English 

CONQUESl 
TO 

577 


Conquest 
of  the 
Saxon 
Shore 

457 


473 


the  other  provinces  of  Rome.  The  conquest  of  Gaul  by  the  Frank,  or 
cf  Italy  by  the  Lombard,  proved  little  more  than  a  forcible  settlement 
of  the  one  or  the  other  among  tributary  subjects  who  were  destined  in 
a  long  course  of  ages  to  absorb  their  conquerors.  French  is  the  tongue, 
not  of  the  Frank,  but  of  the  Gaul  whom  he  overcame  ;  and  the  fair 
hair  of  the  Lombard  is  now  all  but  unknown  in  Lombardy.  But  the 
English  conquest  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  was  a  sheer  disposses- 
sion and  driving  back  of  the  people  whom  the  English  conquered.  In 
the  world-wide  struggle  between  Rome  and  the  German  invaders  no 
land  was  so  stubbornly  fought  for  or  so  hardly  won.  The  conquest  of 
Britain  was  indeed  only  partly  wrought  out  after  two  centuries  of  bitter 
warfare.  But  it  was  just  through  the  long  and  merciless  nature  of  the 
struggle  that  of  all  the  German  conquests  this  proved  the  most  thorough 
and  complete.  So  far  as  the  English  sword  in  tiiese  earlier  days 
reached,  Britain  became  England,  a  land,  that  is,  not  of  Britons,  but 
of  Englishmen.  It  is  possible  that  a  few  of  the  vanquished  people 
may  have  lingered  as  slaves  round  the  homesteads  of  their  English 
conquerors,  and  a  few  of  their  household  words  (if  these  were  not 
brought  in  at  a  later  time)  mingled  oddly  with  the  English  tongue. 
But  doubtful  exceptions  such  as  these  leave  the  main  facts  untouched. 
When  the  steady  progress  of  English  conquest  was  stayed  for  a  while 
by  civil  wars  a  century  and  a  half  after  Aylesford,  the  Briton  had  dis- 
appeared from  half  of  the  land  which  had  been  his  own,  and  the  tongue, 
the  religion,  the  laws  of  his  English  conqueror  reigned  without  a  rival 
from  Essex  to  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire  and  the  mouth  of  the  Severn, 
and  from  the  British  Channel  to  the  Firth  of  Forth. 

Aylesford,  however,  was  but  the  first  step  in  this  career  of  conquest. 
How  stubborn  the  contest  was  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  it  took 
sixty  years  to  complete  the  conquest  of  Southern  Britain  alone.  It  was 
twenty  years  before  Kent  itself  was  won.  After  a  second  defeat  at 
the  passage  of  the  Cray,  the  Britons  "forsook  Kent-land  and  fled  with 
much  fear  to  London  ; "  but  the  ground  was  soon  won  back  again,  and 
it  was  not  until  465  that  a  series  of  petty  conflicts  made  way  for  a 
decisive  struggle  at  Wippedsfleet.  Here  however  the  overthrow  was 
so  terrible  that  all  hope  of  saving  the  bulk  of  Kent  seems  to  have  been 
abandoned,  and  it  was  only  on  its  southern  shore  that  the  Britons  held 
their  ground.  Eight  years  later  the  long  contest  was  over,  and  with 
the  fall  of  Lymne,  whose  broken  walls  look  from  the  slope  to  which 
they  cling  over  the  great  flat  of  Romney  Marsh,  the  work  of  the  first 
conqueror  was  done.  But  the  greed  of  plunder  drew  fresh  war-bands 
from  the  German  coast.  New  invaders,  drawn  from  among  the  Saxon 
tribes  that  lay  between  the  Elbe  and  the  Rhine,  were  seen  in  477, 
only  four  years  later,  pushing  slowly  along  the  strip  of  land  which  lay 
westward  of  Kent  between  the  Weald  and  the  sea.  Nowhere  has  the 
physical  aspect  of  the  country  been  more  utterly  chanj^ed.    The  vast 


t-i- 


TFiE  ENGLISH  KmGDOMS. 


It 


sheet  of  scrub,  woodland,  and  waste  which  then  lx)re  the  name  of  the 
Andredsweald  stretched  for  more  than  a  hundred  miles  from  the 
borders  of  Kent  to  the  Hampshire  Downs,  extending  northward 
almost  to  the  Thames,  and  leaving  only  a  thin  strip  of  coast  along  its 
southern  edge.  This  coast  was  guarded  by  a  great  fortress  which 
occupied  the  spot  now  called  Pevensey,  the  future  landing-plice  of  the 
Norman  Conqueror.  The  fall  of  this  fortress  of  Anderida  in  491 
established  the  kingdom  of  the  South-Saxons  ;  "^lle  and  Cissa,"  ran 
the  pitiless  record  of  the  conquerors,  "beset  Anderida,  and  slew 
all  that  were  therein,  nor  was  there  afterwards  one  Briton  left." 
Another  tribe  of  Saxons  was  at  the  same  time  conquering  on  the  other 
side  of  Kent,  to  the  north  of  the  estuary  of  the  Thames,  and  had 
founded  the  settlement  of  the  East-Saxons,  as  these  warriors  came  to 
be  called,  in  the  valleys  of  the  Colne  and  the  Stour.  To  the  north- 
ward of  the  Stour,  the  work  of  conquest  was  taken  up  by  the  third  of 
the  tribes  whom  we  have  seen  dwelling  in  their  German  homeland, 
whose  name  was  destined  to  absorb  that  of  Saxon  or  Jute,  and  to 
stamp  itself  on  the  land  they  won.  These  were  the  Engle,  or  English- 
men. Their  first  descents  seem  to  have  fallen  on  the  great  district 
which  was  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  Britain  by  the  Wash  and  the  Fens 
and  long  reaches  of  forest,  the  later  East  Anglia,  where  the  conquerors 
settled  as  the  North-folk  and  the  South-folk,  names  still  preserved  to 
us  in  the  modern  counties.  With  this  settlement  the  first  stage  in  the 
conquest  was  complete.  By  the  close  of  the  fifth  century  the  whole 
coast  of  Britain,  from  the  Wash  to  Southampton  Water,  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  invaders  As  yet,  however,  the  enemy  had  touched  little 
more  than  the  coast  ;  great  masses  of  woodland  or  of  fen  still  prisoned 
the  Engle,  the  Saxon,  and  the  Jute  alike  within  narrow  limits.  But 
the  sixth  century  can  hardly  have  been  long  begun  when  each  of  the 
two  peoples  who  had  done  the  main  work  of  conquest  opened  a  fresh 
attack  on  the  flanks  of  the  tract  they  had  won.  On  its  northern  flank 
the  Engle  appeared  in  the  estuaries  of  the  Forth  and  of  the  Humber. 
On  its  western  flank,  the  Saxons  appeared  in  the  Southampton 
Water. 

The  true  conquest  of  Southern  Britain  was  reserved  for  a  fresh  band 
of  Saxons,  a  tribe  whose  older  name  was  that  of  the  Gewissas,  but 
who  were  to  be  more  widely  known  as  the  West-Saxons.  Landing 
westward  of  the  strip  of  coast  which  had  been  won  by  the  war-bands 
of  /Elle,  they  struggled  under  Cerdic  and  Cynric  up  from  Southampton 
Water  in  495  to  the  great  downs  where  Winchester  offered  so  rich  a 
prize.  Five  thousand  Britons  fell  in  a  fight  which  opened  the  country 
to  these  invaders,  and  a  fresh  victory  at  Charford  in  519  set  the  crown 
of  the  West-Saxons  on  the  head  of  Cerdic.  We  know  little  of  the 
incidents  of  these  conquests  ;  nor  do  we  know  why  at  this  juncture 
they  seem  to  have  been  suddenly  interrupted.     But  it  is  certain  that  a 


Conquest 

of 

Southern 

Britain 


12 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


victory  of  the  Britons  at  Mount  Badon  in  the  year  520  chec'  ed  the 
progress  of  the  West-Saxons,  and  was  followed  by  a  long  pause  in 
their  advance ;  for  thirty  years  the  great  belt  of  woodland  which  then 
curved  round  from  Dorset  to  the  valley  of  the  Thames  seems  to  have 
barred  the  way  of  the  assailants.  What  finally  broke  their  inaction  we 
cannot  tell.  We  only  know  that  Cynric,  whom  Cerdic's  death  left  king  of 
the  West-Saxons,  again  took  up  the  work  of  invasion  by  a  new  advance 
in  552.  The  capture  of  the  hill-fort  of  Old  Sarum  threw  open  the  reaches 
of  the  Wiltshire  Downs  ;  and  pushing  northward  to  a  new  battle  at 
Barbury  Hill,  they  completed  the  conquest  of  the  Marlborough  Downs. 
From  the  bare  uplands  the  invaders  turned  eastward  to  the  richer 
valleys  of  our  Berkshire,  and  after  a  battle  with  the  Kentish  men  at 
Wimbledon,  the  land  south  of  the  Thames  which  now  forms  our 
Surrey  was  added  to  their  dominions.  The  road  along  the  Thames 
was  however  barred  to  them,  for  the  district  round  London  seems  to 
have  been  already  won  and  colonized  by  the  East-Saxons.  But  a  march 
of  their  King  Cuthwulf  made  them  masters  in  571  of  the  districts 
which  now  form  Oxfordshire  and  liuckinghamshire  ;  and  a  few  years 
later  they  swooped  from  the  Wiltshire  uplands  on  the  rich  prey  that 
lay  along  the  Severn.  Gloucester,  Cirencester,  and  Bath,  cities  which 
had  leagued  under  their  British  kings  to  resist  this  onset,  became  the 
spoil  of  a  Saxon  victory  at  Dcorham  in  577,  and  the  line  of  the  great 
western  river  lay  open  to  the  arms  of  the  conquerors.  Under  a  new 
king,  Ceawlin,  the  West-Saxons  penetrated  to  the  borders  of  Chester, 
and  Uriconium,  a  town  beside  the  Wrekin,  recently  again  brought  to 
light,  went  up  in  flames.  A  British  poet  sings  piteously  the  death-song 
of  Uriconium,  "  the  white  town  in  the  valley,"  the  town  of  white  stone 
gleaming  among  the  green  woodland,  the  hall  of  its  chieftain  left 
"  without  fire,  without  light,  without  songs,"  the  silence  broken  only 
by  the  eagle's  scream,  "  the  eagle  who  has  swallowed  fresh  drink, 
heart's  blood  of  Kyndylan  the  fair."  The  raid,  however,  was  repulsed, 
and  the  blow  proved  fatal  to  the  power  of  Wessex.  Though  the 
West-Saxons  were  destined  in  the  end  to  win  the  overlordship  over 
every  English  people,  their  time  had  not  come  yet,  and  the  leadership 
of  the  English  race  was  to  fall,  for  nearly  a  century  to  come,  to  the 
tribe  of  invaders  whose  fortunes  we  have  now  to  follow. 

Rivers  were  the  natural  inlets  by  which  the  northern  pirates  every- 
where made  their  way  into  ihe  heart  of  Europe.  In  Britain  the 
fortress  of  London  barred  their  way  along  the  Thames  from  its 
mouth,  and  drove  them,  as  we  have  seen,  to  an  advance  along  the 
southern  coast  and  over  the  downs  of  Wiltshire,  before  reaching  its 
upper  waters.  But  the  rivers  which  united  in  the  estuary  of  the 
11  umber  led  li.»e  open  highways  into  the  heart  of  Britain,  and  it  was 
by  this  inlet  that  the  great  mass  of  the  invaders  penetrated  into  the 
interior  of  the  island.     Like  the  invaders  of  East  Anglia,  they  were 


BRTTATN 

in  tlie  midst  of 

THE  ENGLISH  CONQUEST 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


13 


of  the  English  tribe  from  Sleswick.  As  the  storm  fell  in  the  opening 
of  the  sixth  century  on  the  Wolds  of  Lincolnshire  that  stretch  south- 
ward from  the  H  umber,  the  conquerors  who  settled  in  the  deserted 
country  were  known  as  the  "  Lindiswara,"  or  "  dwellers  about 
Lindum."  A  part  of  the  warriors  who  had  entered  the  Humber, 
turned  southward  by  the  forest  of  Elmet  which  covered  the  district 
around  Leeds,  followed  the  course  of  the  Trent.  Those  who 
occupied  the  wooded  country  between  the  Trent  and  the  Humber 
took  from  their  position  the  name  of  Southumbrians.  A  second 
division,  advancing  along  the  curve  of  the  former  river  and  creeping 
down  the  line  of  its  tributary,  the  Soar,  till  they  reached  Leicester, 
became  known  as  the  Middle-English.  The  marshes  of  the  Fen 
country  were  settled  by  tribes  known  as  the  Gyrwas.  The  head 
waters  of  the  Trent  were  the  seat  of  those  invaders  who  penetrated 
furthest  to  the  west,  and  camped  round  Lichfield  and  Repton.  This 
country  became  the  borderland  between  Englishmen  and  Britons,  and 
the  settlers  bore  the  name  of  "  Mercians,"  men,  that  is,  of  the 
March  or  border.  We  know  hardly  anything  of  this  conquest  of 
Mid-Britain,  and  little  more  of  the  conquest  of  the  North.  Under 
the  Romans,  political  power  had  centred  in  the  vast  district 
between  the  Humber  and  the  Forth.  York  had  been  the  capital  of 
Britain  and  the  seat  of  the  Roman  prefect ;  and  the  bulk  of  the 
garrison  maintained  in  the  island  lay  cantoned  along  the  Roman 
wall.  Signs  of  wealth  and  prosperity  appeared  everywhere  ;  cities 
rose  beneath  the  shelter  of  the  Roman  camps  ;  villas  of  British  land- 
owners studded  the  vale  of  the  C  use  and  the  far-off  uplands  of  the 
Tweed,  where  the  shepherd  trusted  for  security  against  Pictish 
marauders  to  the  terror  of  the  Roman  name.  This  district  was 
assailed  at  once  from  the  north  and  from  the  south.  A  part  of  the 
invading  force  which  entered  the  Humber  marched  over  the  Yorkshire 
wolds  to  found  a  kingdom,  which  was  known  as  that  of  the  Deiri,  in 
the  fens  of  Holderness  and  on  the  chalk  downs  eastward  of  York.  But 
they  were  soon  drawn  onwards,  and  after  a  struggle  of  which  we  know 
nothing,  York,  like  its  neighbour  cities,  lay  a  desolate  ruin,  while  the 
conquerors  spread  northward,  slaying  and  burning  along  the  valley  of 
the  Ouse.  Meanwhile  the  pirates  had  appeared  in  the  Forth,  and 
won  their  way  along  the  Tweed  ;  Ida  and  the  men  of  fifty  keels 
which  followed  him  reared  the  capital  of  the  northernmost  kingdom 
of  the  English,  that  of  Bernicia,  on  the  rock  of  Bamborough,  and  won 
their  way  slowly  along  the  coast  against  a  stubborn  resistance  which 
formed  the  theme  of  British  songs.  The  strife  between  the  kingdoms 
of  Deira  and  Bernicia  for  supremacy  in  the  North  was  closed  by  their 
being  united  under  King  ^thelric  of  Bernicia  ;  and  from  this  union 
was  formed  a  new  kingdom,  the  kingdom  of  Northumbria. 

It   was  this  century  of  conquest  by  the  English  race  which  really 


14 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLI! 


[CHAK 


made  Britain  England.  In  our  anxiety  to  know  more  of  our  fathers, 
we  listen  to  the  monotonous  plaint  of  Gildas,  the  one  writer  whom 
Britain  has  left  us,  with  a  strange  disappointment.  Gildas  had  seen 
the  invasion  of  the  pirate  hosts,  and  it  is  to  him  we  owe  our  know- 
ledge of  the  conquest  of  Kent.  But  we  look  in  vain  to  his  book  for  any 
account  of  the  life  or  settlement  of  the  English  conquerors.  Across  the 
border  of  the  new  England  that  was  growing  up  along  the  southern 
shores  of  Britain,  Gildas  gives  us  but  a  glimpse — doubtless  he  had  but  a 
glimpse  himself— of  forsaken  walls,  of  shrines  polluted  by  heathen  im- 
piety. His  silence  and  his  ignorance  mark  the  character  of  the  struggle. 
No  British  neck  had  as  yet  bowed  before  the  English  invader,  no 
British  pen  was  to  record  his  conquest.  A  century  after  their  landing 
the  English  are  still  known  to  their  British  foes  only  as  "  barbarians," 
"wolves,"  "dogs,"  "whelps  from  the  kennel  of  barbarism,"  "hateful 
to  God  and  man."  Their  victories  seemed  victories  of  the  powers  of 
evil,  chastisements  of  a  divine  justice  for  national  sin.  Their  ravage, 
terrible  as  it  had  been,  was  held  to  be  almost  at  an  end  ;  in  another 
century — so  ran  old  prophecies — their  last  hold  on  the  land  would  be 
shaken  oflf.  But  of  submission  to,  or  even  of  intercourse  with  the 
strangers  there  is  not  a  word.  Gildas  tells  us  nothing  of  their  fortunes, 
or  of  their  leaders. 

In  spite  of  his  silence,  however,  we  may  still  know  something  of  the 
way  in  which  the  new  English  society  grew  up  in  the  conquered 
country,  for  the  driving  back  of  the  Briton  was  but  the  prelude  to  the 
settlement  of  his  conqueror.  What  strikes  us  at  once  in  the  new 
England  is,  that  it  was  the  one  purely  German  nation  that  rose  upon 
the  wreck  of  Rome.  In  other  lands,  in  Spain,  or  Gaul,  or  Italy, 
though  they  were  equally  conquered  by  German  peoples,  religion, 
social  life,  administrative  order,  still  remained  Roman.  In  Britain 
alonp  Rome  died  into  a  vague  tradition  of  the  past.  The  whole 
organization  of  government  and  society  disappeared  with  the  people 
who  used  it  The  villas,  the  mosaics,  the  coins  which  we  dig  up  in 
our  fields  are  no  relics  of  our  English  fathers,  but  of  a  Roman  world 
which  our  fathers'  sword  swept  utterly  away.  Its  law,  its  literatuie. 
its  manners,  its  faith,  went  with  it.  The  new  England  was  a  heathen 
country.  The  religion  of  Woden  and  Thunder  triumphed  over  the 
religion  of  Christ.  Alone  among  the  German  assailants  of  Rome  the 
English  rejected  the  faith  of  the  Empire  they  helped  to  overthrow. 
Elsewhere  the  Christian  priesthood  served  as  mediators  between  the 
barbarian  and  the  conquered,  but  in  the  conquered  part  of  Britain 
Christianity  wholly  disappeared.  River  and  homestead  and  boundary, 
the  very  days  of  the  week,  bore  the  names  of  the  new  gods  who  dis- 
placed Christ.  But  if  England  seemed  for  the  moment  a  waste  from 
which  all  the  civilization  of  the  world  had  lied  away,  it  contained 
within  itself  the  germs  of  a  nobler  life  than  that  which  had  been 


1.1 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


destroyed.  The  base  of  the  new  Enghsh  society  was  the  freeman 
whom  we  have  seen  tilHng,  judging,  or  sacrificing  for  himself  in  his 
far-off  fatherland  by  the  Northern  Sea.  However  roughly  he  dealt 
while  the  struggle  went  on  with  the  material  civilization  of  Britain,  it 
was  impossible  that  such  a  man  could  be  a  mere  destroyer.  War  was 
no  sooner  over  than  the  warrior  settled  down  into  a  farmer,  and  the 
home  of  the  peasant  churl  rose  beside  the  heap  of  goblin-haunted 
stones  that  marked  the  site  of  the  villa  he  had  burnt.  Little  knots 
of  kinsfolk  drew  together  in  "tun"  and  "ham"  beside  the  Thames 
and  the  Trent  as  they  had  settled  beside  the  Elbe  or  the  Weser, 
not  as  kinsfolk  only,  but  as  dwellers  in  the  same  plot,  knit 
together  by  their  common  holding  within  the  same  bounds.  Each 
little  village-commonwealth  hved  the  same  life  in  Britain  as  its  farmers 
had  lived  at  home.  Each  had  its  moot  hill  or  sacred  tree  as  a  centre, 
its  "  mark"  as  a  border  ;  each  judged  by  witness  of  the  kinsfolk  and 
made  laws  in  the  assembly  of  its  freemen,  and  chose  the  leaders  for 
its  own  governance,  and  the  men  who  were  to  follow  headman  or 
ealdorman  to  hundred-court  or  war. 

In  more  ways  than  one,  indeed,  the  primitive  organization  of  Enghsh 
society  was  affected  by  its  transfer  to  the  soil  of  Britain.  Conquest 
begat  the  King.  It  is  probable  that  the  English  had  hitherto  known 
nothing  of  kings  in  their  own  fatherland,  where  each  tribe  lived  under 
the  rule  of  its  own  customary  Ealdorman.  But  in  a  war  such  as  that  which 
they  waged  against  the  Britons  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  common  leader 
whom  the  various  tribes  engaged  in  conquests  such  as  those  of  Kent 
or  Wessex  might  follow  ;  and  such  a  leader  soon  rose  into  a  higher 
position  than  that  of  a  temporary  chief.  The  sons  of  Hengest  became 
kings  in  Kent ;  those  of  yElle  in  Sussex  ;  the  West-Saxons  chose 
Cerdic  for  their  king.  Such  a  choice  at  once  drew  the  various  villages 
and  tribes  of  each  community  closer  together  than  of  old,  while  the 
new  ruler  surrounded  himself  with  a  chosen  war-band  of  companions^ 
servants,  or  "  thegns"  as  they  were  called,  who  were  rewarded  for  their 
service  by  gifts  from  the  public  land.  Their  distinction  rested,  not  on 
hereditary  rank,  but  on  service  done  to  the  King,  and  they  at  last 
became  a  nobility  which  superseded  the  "  eorls  "  of  the  original  English 
constitution.  And  as  war  begat  the  King  and  the  military  noble,  so  it 
all  but  begat  the  slave.  There  had  always  been  a  slave  class,  a  class 
of  the  unfree,  among  the  English  as  among  all  German  peoples  ;  but 
the  numbers  of  this  class,  if  unaffected  by  the  conquest  of  Britain,  were 
swelled  by  the  wars  which  soon  sprang  up  among  the  English  con- 
querors. No  rank  saved  the  prisoner  taken  in  battle  from  the  doom 
of  slavery,  and  slavery  itself  was  often  welcomed  as  saving  the  prisoner 
from  death.  We  see  this  in  the  story  of  a  noble  warrior  who  had  fallen 
wounded  in  a  fight  between  two  English  tribes,  and  was  carried  as  a 
bond-slave  to  the  house  of  a  thegn  hard  by.     He  declared  himself  a 


Sec.  II. 

TlIF 

English 

Conquest 

449 

TO 

577 


England 

and  the 

Conquest 


|6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


peasant,  but  his  master  penetrated  the  disguise.  "  You  deserve  death," 
he  said,  "  since  all  my  brothers  and  kinsfolk  fell  in  the  fight ;"  but  for 
his  oath's  sake  he  spared  his  life  and  sold  him  to  a  Frisian  at  London, 
probably  a  merchant  such  as  those  who  were  carrying  English  captives 
at  that  time  to  the  market-place  of  Rome.  But  war  was  not  the  only 
cause  of  the  increase  of  this  slave  class.  The  number  of  the  "  unfree  " 
were  swelled  by  death  and  crime.  Famine  drove  men  to  "bend  their 
heads  in  the  evil  days  for  meat ; "  the  debtor  unable  to  discharge  his 
debt  flung  on  the  ground  the  freeman's  sword  and  spear,  took  up  the 
labourer's  mattock,  and  placed  his  head  as  a  slave  within  a  master's 
hands.  The  criminal  whose  kinsfolk  would  not  make  up  his  fine 
became  a  crime-serf  of  the  plaintiff  or  the  king.  Sometimes  a  father, 
pressed  by  need,  sold  c'lildren  and  wife  into  bondage.  The  slave 
became  part  of  the  live-stock  of  the  estate,  to  be  willed  away  at  death 
with  horse  or  ox  whose  pedigree  was  kept  as  carefully  as  his  own. 
His  children  were  bondsmen  like  himself;  even  the  freeman's  children 
by  a  slave-mother  inherited  the  mother's  taint.  "  Mine  is  the  calf  that 
is  born  of  my  cow,"  ran  the  English  proverb.  The  cabins  of  the  un- 
free clustered  round  the  home  of  the  rich  landowner  as  they  had 
clustered  round  the  villa  of  the  Roman  gentleman  ;  ploughman,  shep- 
herd, goatherd,  swineherd,  oxherd  and  cowherd,  dairymaid,  barnman, 
sower,  hay  ward  and  woodward,  were  often  slaves.  It  was  not  such  a 
slavery  as  that  we  have  known  in  modern  times,  for  stripes  and  bonds 
were  rare  ;  if  the  slave  were  slain,  it  was  by  an  angry  blow,  not  by  the 
lash.  But  his  lord  could  slay  him  if  he  would  ;  it  was  but  a  chattel 
the  less.  The  slave  had  no  place  in  the  justice-court,  no  kinsman  to 
claim  vengeance  for  his  wrong.  If  a  stranger  slew  him,  his  lord 
claimed  the  damages ;  if  guilty  of  wrong-doing,  "  his  skin  paid  for 
liim"  under  the  lash.  If  he  fled  he  might  be  chased  like  a  strayed 
beast,  and  flogged  to  death  for  his  crime,  or  burned  to  death  if  the 
slave  were  a  woman. 


Section  III.— The  Northumbrian  Kingdom,  588-685. 

[Aulhotities. — Haeda's  "  Ilistoria  Ecclcsiastica  Gcnlis  Anglorum  "  is  ihc  one 
primary  authority  for  this  prriod.  I  have  spoken  fullv  of  it  ant!  its  writer  in 
the  text.  The  meagre  regnal  and  episcopal  annals  of  the  West  Saxons  have 
been  brought  by  numerous  insertions  from  Ha>da  to  the  shaj>c  in  which  they  at 
present  appear  in  the  **  English  Chronicle."  The  Poem  of  Cacdmon  has  been 
published  by  Mr.  Thorpe,  and  copious  summaries  of  it  arc  civ  en  by  Sh.-xrcn 
Turner  ("  Hist,  of  Anglo-Saxons,''  vol.  iii.  cap.  3)  and  Mr.  Morlcy  ("English 
Writers,"  vol.  i.)  The  life  of  Wilfrid  by  htldi,  and  those  of  Cuthl)crt  by 
lJ;eda  and  an  earlier  contcmjwrary  biographer,  which  are  apjKndetl  to 
Mr.  Stevenson's  edition  of  the  "  Historia  Ecclesiastica,"  thn»w  gre.1l  light  on 
the  religious  condition  of  the  North.  For  Guthlac  of  Crowland,  see  the  "  Acta 


I] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


17 


Sanctorum  "   for  April  xi.  For  Theodore,  and  the  English  Church  which 

tie  organized,  see  Kemble  ("Saxons  in  England."  vol.  ii.  cap,  8 — 10),  and 

above   all    the    invaluable  remarks  of  Dr.   Stubbs    in    his    "Constitutional 
History." 

The  conquest  of  the  bulk  of  Britain  was  now  complete.  Eastward 
of  a  line  which  may  be  roughly  drawn  along  the  moorlands  of  Nor;h- 
umberland  and  Yorkshire,  through  Derbyshire  and  skirting  the  Forest 
of  Arden,  to  the  mouth  of  the  Severn,  and  thence  by  Mendip  to  the 
sea,  the  island  had  passed  into  English  hands.  From  this  time  the 
character  of  the  English  conquest  of  Britain  was  wholly  changed.  The 
older  wars  of  extermination  came  to  an  end,  and  as  the  invasion  pushed 
westward  in  later  times  the  Britons  were  no  longer  wholly  driven  from 
the  soil,  but  mingled  with  their  conquerors.  A  far  more  important 
change  was  that  which  was  seen  in  the  attitude  of  the  English  con- 
querors from  this  time  towards  each  other.  Freed  to  a  great  extent 
from  the  common  pressure  of  the  war  against  the  Britons,  their 
energies  turned  to  combats  with  one  another,  to  a  long  struggle  for 
overlordship  which  was  to  end  in  bringing  about  a  real  national  unity. 
The  West-Saxons,  beaten  back  from  their  advance  along  the  Severn 
valley,  and  overthrown  in  a  terrible  defeat  at  Faddiley,  were  torn  by 
internal  dissensions,  even  while  they  were  battling  for  life  against  the 
Britons.  Strife  between  the  two  rival  kingdoms  of  Bernicia  and  Deira 
in  the  north  absorbed  the  power  of  the  Engle  in  that  quarter,  till  in 
588  the  strength  of  Deira  suddenly  broke  down,  and  the  Bernician 
king,  ^thelric,  gathered  the  two  peoples  into  a  realm  which  was  to 
form  the  later  kingdom  of  Northumbria.  Amid  the  confusion  of  north 
and  south,  the  primacy  among  the  conquerors  was  seized  by  Kent, 
where  the  kingdom  of  the  Jutes  rose  suddenly  into  greatness  under  a 
king  called  yEthelberht,  who  before  597  established  his  supremacy 
over  the  Saxons  of  Middlesex  and  Essex,  as  well  as  over  the  English 
of  East  Anglia  and  of  Mercia  as  far  north  as  the  Humber  and  the 
Trent. 

The  overlordship  of  iEthelberht  was  marked  by  a  renewal  of  that 
mtercourse  of  Britain  with  the  Continent  which  had  been  broken  off  by 
the  conquests  of  the  English.  His  marriage  with  Bertha,  the  daughter 
L'f  the  1  rankish  King  Charibert  of  Paris,  created  a  fresh  tie  between 
Kent  and  Gaul.  But  the  union  had  far  more  important  results  than 
tho^e  of  which  ^Ethelberht  may  have  dreamed.  Bertha,  like  her 
Frankish  kinsfolk,  was  a  Christian.  A  Christian  bishop  accompanied 
her  from  Gaul  to  Canterbury,  the  royal  city  of  the  kingdom  of  Kent ; 
and  a  ruined  Christian  church,  the  church  of  St.  Martin,  was  given 
them  for  their  worship.  The  marriage  of  Bertha  was  an  opportunity 
which  was  at  once  seized  by  the  bishop  who  at  this  time  occupied 
the  Roman  See,  and  who  is  justly  known  as  Gregory  the  Great.  A 
memorable    story  tells  us  how,  when   but  a  young  Roman  deacon, 


Sec.  III. 
Thk 

NORTH- 
UMRRIAN 

Kingdom 
A88 

TO 

686 

JEtlisl. 
berht 


584 


Iiandinir 

ofAugro* 

tine 


c.589 


i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Gregory  had  noted  the  white  bodies,  the  fair  faces,  the  golden  hair  of 
some  youths  who  stood  bound  in  the  market-place  of  Rome.  "  From 
what  country  do  these  slaves  come  ?  "  he  asked  the  traders  who  brought 
them.  '*  They  are  English,  Angles  !  "the  slave-dealers  answered.  The 
deacon's  pity  veiled  itself  in  poetic  humour.  "  Not  Angles  but  Angels," 
he  said,  "  with  faces  so  angel-like  !  From  what  country  come  they  ?'' 
"  They  come,"  said  the  merchants,  "  from  Deira."  "  De  ira  !  "  was  the 
untranslateable  reply;  "aye,  plucked  from  God's  ire,  and  called  to 
Christ's  mercy  !  And  what  is  the  name  of  their  king  ?  "  "  yElla,"  they 
told  him  ;  and  Gregory  seized  on  the  words  as  of  good  omen.  "Alle- 
luia shall  b3  sung  in  y^lla's  land  ! "  he  cried,  and  passed  on,  musing 
how  the  angel-faces  should  be  brought  to  sing  it.  Only  three  or  four 
years  had  gone  by,  when  the  deacon  had  become  Bishop  of  Rome,  and 
Bertha's  marriage  gave  him  the  opening  he  sought.  After  cautious 
negotiations  with  the  rulers  of  Gaul,  he  sent  a  Roman  abbot,  Augustine, 
at  the  head  of  a  band  of  monks,  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  English 
people.  The  missionaries  landed  in  597  on  the  very  spot  where 
Hengest  had  landed  more  than  a  century  before  in  the  Isle  of  Thanet ; 
and  the  king  received  them  sitting  in  the  open  air  on  the  chalk-down 
above  Minster,  where  the  eye  nowadays  catches  miles  away  over  the 
marshes  the  dim  tower  of  Canterbury.  He  listened  to  the  long  sermon 
as  the  interpreters  whom  Augustine  had  brought  with  him  from  Gaul 
translated  it.  "  Your  words  are  fair,"  vl^thelberht  replied  at  last  with 
English  good  sense,  "  but  they  are  new  and  of  doubtful  meaning  ; "  for 
himself,  he  said,  he  refused  to  forsake  the  gods  of  his  fathers,  but  he 
promised  shelter  and  protection  to  the  strangers.  The  band  of  monks 
entered  Canterbury  bearing  bef'»re  them  a  silver  cross  with  a  picture 
of  Christ,  and  singing  in  concert  the  strains  of  the  litany  of  their 
church.  "  Turn  from  this  city,  Lord,"  they  sang,  "  Thine  anger  and 
wrath,  and  turn  it  from  Thy  holy  house,  for  we  have  sinned."  And 
then  in  strange  contrast  came  the  jubilant  cry  of  the  older  Hebrew 
worship,  the  cry  which  Gregory  had  wrested  in  prophetic  earnestness 
from  the  name  of  the  Yorkshire  king  in  the  Roman  market-place, 
"  Alleluia ! " 

It  is  strange  that  the  spot  which  witnessed  the  landing  of  Hengest 
should  be  yet  better  known  as  the  landing-place  of  Augustine.  But 
the  second  landing  at  Ebbsfleet  was  in  no  small  measure  the  reversal 
and  undoing  of  the  first.  "  Strangers  from  Rome  "  was  the  title  with 
which  the  missionaries  first  fronted  the  English  king.  The  march  of 
the  monks  as  they  chanted  their  solemn  litany  was,  in  one  sense,  the 
return  of  the  Roman  legions  who  had  retired  at  the  trumpet-call  of 
Alaric.  It  was  to  the  tongue  and  the  thought  not  of  Gregory  only  but 
of  such  men  as  his  own  Jutish  fathers  had  slaughtered  and  driven 
over  sea  that  i^'thelberht  listened  in  the  preaching  of  Augustine. 
Canterbury,  the  earliest  royal  city  of  the  new  England,  became  the 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


19 


centre  of  Latin  influence.  The  Roman  tongue  became  again  one  of 
the  tongues  of  Britain,  the  language  of  its  worship,  its  correspondence, 
its  hterature.  But  more  than  the  tongue  of  Rome  returned  with 
A.ugusine.  Practically  his  landing  renewed  the  union  with  the 
yestern  world  which  the  landing  of  Hengest  had  all  but  destroyed. 
The  new  England  was  admitted  into  the  older  commonwealth  of 
nations.  The  civilization,  arts,  letters,  which  had  fled  before  the  sword 
of  the  English  conquest,  returned  with  the  Christian  faith.  The  fabric 
of  the  Roman  law  indeed  never  took  root  in  England,  but  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  recognize  the  result  of  the  influence  of  the  Roman 
missionaries  in  the  fact  that  the  codes  of  customary  English  law  began 
to  be  put  into  writing  soon  after  their  arrival. 

As  yet  these  great  results  were  still  distant  ;  a  year  passed  before 
^thelberht  yielded,  and  though  after  his  conversion  thousands  of  the 
Kentish  men  crowded  to  baptism,  it  was  years  before  he  ventured  to 
urge  the  under-kings  of  Essex  and  East  Anglia  to  receive  the  creed  of 
their  overlord.  This  effort  of  ^thelberht  however  only  heralded  a 
revolution  which  broke  the  power  of  Kent  for  ever.  The  tribes  of 
Mid-Britain  revolted  against  his  supremacy,  and  gathered  under  the 
overlordship  of  Raedwald  of  East  Anglia.  The  revolution  clearly 
marked  the  change  which  had  passed  over  Britain.  Instead  of  a  chaos 
of  isolated  peoples,  the  conquerors  were  now  in  fact  gathered  into  three 
great  groups.  The  Engle  kingdom  of  the  north  reached  from  the 
Humber  to  the  Forth.  The  southern  kingdom  of  the  West-Saxons 
stretched  from  Watling  Street  to  the  Channel.  And  between  these 
was  roughly  sketched  out  the  great  kingdom  of  Mid-Britain,  which, 
however  its  limits  might  vary,  retained  a  substantial  identity  from  the 
time  of  ^thelberht  till  the  final  fall  of  the  Mercian  kings.  For  the 
next  two  hundred  years  the  history  of  England  lies  in  the  struggle  of 
Northumbrian,  Mercian,  and  West-Saxon  kings  to  establish  their 
supremacy  over  the  general  mass  of  Englishmen,  and  unite  them  in  a 
single  England. 

In  this  struggle  the  lead  was  at  once  taken  by  Northumbria,  which 
was  rising  into  a  power  that  set  all  rivalry  at  defiance.  Under  ^thel- 
frith,  who  had  followed  ^thelric  in  593,  the  work  of  conquest  went  on 
rapidly.  In  603  the  forces  of  the  northern  Britons  were  annihilated  in 
a  great  battle  at  Dasgsastan,  and  the  rule  of  Northumbria  was  estab- 
lished from  the  Humber  to  the  Forth.  Along  the  west  of  Britain 
there  stretched  the  unconquered  kingdoms  of  Strathclyde  and  Cumbria, 
which  extended  from  the  river  Clyde  to  the  Dee,  and  the  smaller  British 
states  which  occupied  what  we  now  call  Wales.  Chester  formed  the 
link  between  these  two  bodies  ;  and  it  was  Chester  that  yEthelfrith 
chose  in  613  for  his  next  point  of  attack.  Some  miles  from  the  city 
two  thousand  monks  were  gathered  in  the  monastery  of  Bangor,  and 
after  imploring  in  a  three  days'  fast  the  help  of  Heaven  for  their 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sv.c   III. 
The 

NORTH- 
VMHRIAM 
KlNC.UOM 

588 

TO 

685 


FadTtrine 

^17-633 


6a6 


country,  a  crowd  of  these  ascetics  followed  the  British  army  to  the 
field.  yEthelfrith  watched  the  wild  gestures  and  outstretched  arms  of 
the  strange  company  as  it  stood  apart,  intent  upon  prayer,  and 
took  the  monks  for  enchanters.  "  Bear  they  arms  or  no,"  said 
the  king,  "  they  war  against  us  when  they  cry  against  us  to  their 
God,"  and  in  the  surprise  and  rout  which  followed  the  monks  were 
the  first  to  fall. 

The  British  kingdoms  were  now  utterly  parted  from  one  anothei. 
By  their  victory  at  Deorham  the  West-Saxons  had  cut  off  the  Britons 
of  Devon  and  Cornwall  from  the  general  body  of  their  race.  By  his 
victory  at  Chester  y^^Ithelfrith  broke  this  body  again  into  two  several 
parts,  by  parting  the  Britons  of  Wales  from  those  of  Cumbria  and 
Strathclyde.  From  this  time  the  warfare  of  Briton  and  Englishman 
died  down  into  a  warfare  of  separate  English  kingdoms  against  separate 
British  kingdoms,  of  Northumbria  against  Cumbria  and  Strathclyde, 
of  Mercia  against  modern  Wales,  of  Wessex  against  the  tract  of  British 
country  from  Mendip  to  the  Land's  End.  Nor  was  the  victory  of  Chester 
of  less  importance  to  England  itself.  With  it  ^Ethelfrith  was  at  once 
drawn  to  new  dreams  of  ambition  as  he  looked  across  his  southern 
border,  where  Raedwald  of  East  Anglia  was  drawing  the  peoples  of 
Mid-Britain  under  his  overlordship. 

The  inevitable  struggle  between  East  Anglia  and  Northumbria 
seemed  for  a  time  averted  by  the  sudden  death  of  vEthelfrith.  March- 
ing in  617  against  Raedwald,  who  had  sheltered  Eadwine,  an  exile 
from  the  Northumbrian  kingdom,  he  perished  in  a  defeat  at  the  river 
Idle.  Eadwine  mounted  the  Northumbrian  throne  on  the  fall  of  his 
enemy,  and  carried  on  the  work  of  government  with  an  energy  as 
ceaseless  as  that  of  yEthelfrith  himself  His  victories  over  Pict  and 
Briton  were  followed  by  the  winning  of  lordship  over  the  English  of 
Mid-Britain  ;  Kent  was  bound  to  him  in  close  political  alliance  ;  and 
the  English  conquerors  of  the  south,  the  people  of  the  West-Saxons, 
alone  remained  independent.  But  revolt  and  slaughter  had  fatally 
broken  the  power  of  the  West-Saxons  when  the  Northumbrians 
attacked  them.  A  story  preserved  by  Bacda  tells  something  of  the 
fierceness  of  the  struggle  which  ended  in  the  subjection  of  the  south 
to  the  overlordship  of  Northumbria.  Eadwine  gave  audience  in  an 
Easter  court  which  he  held  in  a  king's  town  near  the  river  Derwent 
to  Eumer,  an  envoy  of  Wessex,  who  brought  a  message  from  its  king. 
In  the  midst  of  the  conference  the  envoy  st.irted  to  his  feet,  drew  a 
dagger  from  his  robe,  and  rushed  madly  on  the  Northumbrian  sovereign. 
Lilla,  one  of  the  king's  war-band,  threw  himself  between  Eadwine  and 
his  assassin  ;  but  so  furious  was  the  stroke  that  even  through  Lilla  s 
body  the  dagger  still  reached  its  aim.  The  king  however  recovered 
from  his  wound  to  march  on  the  West-Saxons  ;  he  slew  and  subdued 
all  who  had  conspired  against  him,  and  returned  victorious  to  hit 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


21 


own  country.  The  greatness  of  Northumbria  now  reached  its  height. 
Within  his  own  dominions  Eadwine  displayed  a  genius  for  civil 
government  which  shows  how  completely  the  mere  age  of  conquest 
had  passed  away.  With  him  began  the  English  proverb  so  often 
applied  to  after  kings,  "  A  woman  with  her  babe  might  walk  scathe- 
less from  sea  to  sea  in  Eadwine's  day."  Peaceful  communication 
levived  along  the  deserted  highways  ;  the  springs  by  the  roadside  were 
marked  with  stakes,  and  a  cup  of  brass  set  beside  each  for  the  traveller's 
refreshment.  Some  faint  traditions  of  the  Roman  past  may  have 
tiung  their  glory  round  this  new  "  Empire  of  the  English  ; "  some  of 
its  majesty  had  at  any  rate  come  back  with  its  long-lost  peace.  A 
royal  standard  of  purple  and  gold  floated  before  Eadwine  as  he  rode 
through  the  villages  ;  a  feather-tuft  attached  to  a  spear,  the  Roman 
tufa,  preceded  him  as  he  walked  through  the  streets.  The  Northum- 
brian king  was  in  fact  supreme  over  Britain  as  no  king  of  English 
blood  had  been  before.  Northward  his  frontier  reached  the  Forth, 
and  was  guarded  by  a  city  which  bore  his  name,  Edinburgh,  Eadwine's 
burgh,  the  city  of  Eadwine.  Westward,  he  was  master  of  Chester, 
and  the  fleet  he  equipped  there  subdued  the  isles  of  Anglesey  and 
Man.  South  of  the  Humber  he  was  owned  as  overlord  by  the  whole 
English  race,  save  Kent ;  and  even  Kent  was  bound  to  him  by  his 
marriage  with  its  king's  sister. 

With  the  Kentish  queen  came  Paulinus,  one  of  Augustine's  followers, 
whose  tall  stooping  form,  slender  aquihne  nose,  and  black  hair  falling 
round  a  thin  worn  face,  were  long  remembered  in  the  north  ;  and  the 
Wise  Men  of  Nort'  umbria  gathered  to  deliberate  on  the  new  faith  to 
which  Paulinus  and  his  queen  soon  convened  Eadwine.  To  finer 
minds  its  charm  lay  in  the  light  it  threw  on  the  darkness  which 
encompassed  men's  lives,  the  darkness  of  the  future  as  of  the  past. 
"  So  seems  the  life  of  man,  O  king,"  burst  forth  an  aged  Ealdorman, 
''  as  a  sparrow's  flight  through  the  hall  when  you  are  sitting  at  meat 
in  winter-tide,  with  the  warm  fire  Hghted  on  the  hearth,  but  the  icy 
rain-storm  without.  The  sparrow  flies  in  at  one  door  and  tarries  for 
a  moment  in  the  light  and  heat  of  the  hearth-fire,  and  then  flying  forth 
from  the  other  vanishes  into  the  wintry  darkness  whence  it  came.  So 
tarries  for  a  moment  the  life  of  man  in  our  sight,  but  what  is  before 
it,  what  after  it,  we  know  not.  If  this  new  teaching  tells  us  aught 
certainly  of  these,  let  us  follow  it."  Coarser  argument  told  on  the 
crowd.  "  None  of  your  people,  Eadwine,  have  worshipped  the  gods 
more  busily  than  I,"  said  Coifi  the  priest,  "  yet  there  are  many  more 
favoured  and  more  fortunate.  Were  these  gods  good  for  anythmg 
they  would  help  their  worshippers."  Then  leaping  on  horseback,  he 
hurled  his  spear  into  the  sacred  temple  at  Godmanham,  and  with  the 
rest  of  the  Witan  embraced  the  religion  of  the  king. 

But  the  f  ith  of  Woden  and  Thunder   was  not  to  fall  without  a 


Sec.  III. 
The 

NOKTH- 
UMllKIAN 
KlSGliOU 

588 

TO 

685 


Conver- 
sion  of 
North- 
uxnbria 


627 


22 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


struggle.  Even  in  Kent  a  reaction  against  the  new  creed  began  with 
the  death  of  ytthelberht.  Raedwald  of  East  Anglia  resolved  to  serve 
Christ  and  the  older  gods  together  ;  and  a  pagan  and  Christian  altar 
fronted  one  another  in  the  same  royal  temple.  The  young  kings  of  the 
East-Saxons  burst  into  the  church  where  Mellitus,  the  Bishop  of 
London,  was  administering  the  Eucharist  to  the  people,  crying,  "  Give 
us  that  white  bread  you  gave  to  our  father  Saba,"  and  on  the  bishop's 
refusal  drove  him  from  their  realm.  The  tide  of  reaction  was  checked 
for  a  time  by  Eadwine's  conversion,  until  Mcrcia  sprang  into  a  sudden 
greatness  ai  the  champion  of  the  heathen  gods.  Under  Eadwine 
Mercia  had  submitted  to  the  lordship  of  Northumbria  ;  but  its  king, 
Penda,  saw  in  the  rally  of  the  old  religion  a  chance  of  winning  back 
its  independence.  Penda  had  not  only  united  under  his  own  rule  the 
Mercians  of  the  Upper  Trent,  the  Middle-English  of  Leicester,  the 
Southumbrians,  and  the  Lindiswaras,  but  he  had  even  been  strong 
enough  to  tear  from  the  West-Saxons  their  possessions  along  the 
Severn.  So  thoroughly  indeed  was  the  union  of  these  provinces 
effected,  that  though  some  were  detached  for  a  time  after  Penda's 
death,  the  name  of  Mercia  from  this  moment  must  be  generally  taken 
as  covering  the  whole  of  them.  Alone,  however,  he  was  as  yet  no 
match  for  Northumbria.  But  the  old  severance  between  the  Engli  h 
people  and  the  Britons  was  fast  dying  down,  and  Penda  boldly  broke 
throuj^h  the  barrier  which  parted  the  two  races,  and  allied  himself  with 
the  Welsh  king,  Cadwallon,  in  an  attack  on  Eadwine.  The  armies 
met  in  633  at  Hatfield,  and  in  the  fight  which  followed  Eadwine  was 
defeated  and  slain.  The  victory  was  turned  to  profit  by  the  ambition 
of  Penda,  while  Northumbria  was  torn  with  the  strife  which  followed 
Eadwine' s  fall.  To  complete  his  dominion  over  Mid-Britain,  Penda 
marched  against  East  Anglia.  The  East  Engle  had  returned  to 
heathendom  from  the  oddly  mingled  religion  of  their  first  Christian 
king,  Ra?dwald  ;  but  the  new  faith  was  brought  back  by  the  present 
king,  Sigeberht.  Before  the  threat  of  Pendas  attack  Sigeberht  le(t 
his  throne  for  a  monasteiy,  but  his  people  dragged  him  again  from  his 
cell  on  the  news  of  Penda's  invasion  in  634,  in  faith  that  his  presence 
would  bring  them  the  favour  of  Heaven.  The  monk-king  was  set  in 
the  forefront  of  the  battle,  but  he  would  bear  no  weapon  save  a  wand, 
and  his  fall  was  followed  by  the  rout  of  his  army  and  the  submission 
of  his  kingdom.  Meanwhile  Cadwallon  remained  harrying  in  the  heart 
of  Deira,  and  made  himself  master  even  of  York.  But  the  triumph  of 
the  Britons  was  as  brief  as  it  was  strange.  Oswald,  a  second  son  of 
y4Cthclfnth,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  race,  and  a  small  North- 
unUjrian  force  gathered  in  635  under  their  new  king  near  the  Roman 
Wall.  Oswald  set  up  a  cross  of  wo(»d  as  his  standard,  holding  it  with 
his  own  hands  till  the  hollow  in  which  it  was  fixed  was  filled  in  by  his 
soldiers  ;  then  throwing  himself  on  his  knees,  he  cried  to  his  host  to 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


aj 


pray  to  the  living  God.  Cadvvallon,  the  last  great  hero  of  the  British 
rare,  fell  fighting  on  the  "  Heaven's  Field,"  as  after  times  called  the 
field  of  battle,  and  for  seven  years  the  power  of  Oswald  equalled  that 
of  ^thelfrith  and  Eadwine. 

It  was  not  the  Church  of  Paulinus  which  nerved  Oswald  to  this 
struggle  for  the  Cross.  Paulinus  had  fled  from  Northumbria  at 
Eadwine's  fall ;  and  the  Roman  Church  in  Kent  shrank  into  inactivity 
before  the  heathen  reaction.  Its  place  in  the  conversion  of  England 
was  tal  en  by  missionaries  from  Ireland.  To  understand,  however,  the 
true  meaning  of  the  change,  we  must  remember  that  before  the  landing 
of  the  English  in  Britain,  the  Christian  Church  comprised  every  country, 
save  Germany,  in  Western  Europe,  as  far  as  Ireland  itself.  The  con- 
quest of  Britain  by  the  pagan  English  thrust  a  wedge  of  heathendom 
into  the  heart  of  this  great  communion  and  broke  it  into  two  unequal 
parts.  On  the  one  side  lay  Italy,  Spain,  and  Gaul,  whose  Churches 
owned  obedience  to  the  See  of  Rome,  on  the  other  the  Church  of 
Ireland.  But  the  condition  of  the  two  portions  of  Western  Christen- 
dom was  very  different.  WHiile  the  vigour  of  Christianity  in  Italy  and 
Gaul  and  Spain  was  exhausted  in  a  bare  struggle  for  life,  Ireland, 
which  remained  unscourged  by  invaders,  drew  from  its  conversion  an 
energy  such  as  it  has  never  known  since.  Christianity  had  been 
received  there  with  a  burst  of  popular  enthusiasm,  and  letters  and  arts 
sprang  up  rapidly  in  its  train.  The  science  and  Biblical  knowledge 
which  fled  from  the  Continent  took  refuge  in  famous  schools  which 
made  Durrow  and  Armagh  the  universities  of  the  West.  The  new 
Christian  life  soon  beat  too  strongly  to  brook  confinement  within  the 
bounds- of  Ireland  itself.  Patrick,  the  first  missio'nary  of  the  island, 
had  not  been  half  a  century  dead  when  Irish  Christianity  flung  itself 
with  a  fiery  zeal  into  battle  with  the  mass  of  heathenism  which  was 
rolling  in  upon  the  Christian  world.  Irish  missionaries  laboured  among 
the  Picts  of  the  Highlands  and  among  the  Frisians  of  the  northern 
seas.  An  Irish  missionary,  Columban.  founded  monasteries  in  Bur- 
gundy and  the  Apennines.  The  canton  of  St.  Gall  still  commemorates 
in  its  name  another  Irish  missionary  before  whom  the  spirits  of  flood 
and  fell  fled  wailing  over  the  waters  of  the  Lake  of  Constance.  For  a 
time  it  seemed  as  if  the  course  of  the  world' s  history  was  to  be  changed, 
as  if  the  older  Celtic  race  that  Roman  and  German  had  swept  belore 
them  had  turned  to  the  moral  conquest  of  their  conquerors,  as  if  Celtic 
and  not  Latin  Christianity  was  to  mould  the  destinies  of  the  Churches 
of  the  West. 

On  a  low  island  of  barren  gneiss-rock  off  the  west  coast  of  Scotland 
an  Irish  refugee,  Columba,  had  raised  the  famous  monastery  of  lona. 
Oswald  in  youth  found  refuge  within  its  walls,  and  on  his  accession  to 
the  throne  of  Northumbria  he  called  for  missionaries  from  among  its 
monks.     The  first  despatched  in  answer  to  his  call  obtained  little 


24 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CMAP 


success.  He  declared  on  his  return  that  among  a  people  so  stubborn 
and  barbarous  success  was  impossible.  "  Was  it  their  stubbornness 
or  your  severity  ?"  asked  Aidan,  a  brother  sitting  by  :  "did  you  forget 
God's  word  to  give  them  the  milk  first  and  then  the  meat  ?''  All  eyes 
turned  on  the  speaker  as  fittest  to  undertake  the  abandoned  mission, 
and  Aidan  sailing  at  their  bidding  fixed  his  bishop's  stool  or  see  in 
the  island-peninsula  of  Lindisfarne.  Thence,  from  a  monastery 
whic'i  gave  to  the  spot  its  after  name  of  Holy  Island,  preachers 
poured  fo  th  over  the  heathen  realms.  Boisil  guided  a  little  troop 
of  missionaries  to  the  valley  of  the  Tweed.  Aidan  himself  wandered  on 
foot  preaching  among  the  peasants  of  Bernicia.  The  new  religion 
served  as  a  prelude  to  the  Northumbrian  advance.  If  Oswald  was  a 
saint,  he  was  none  the  less  resolved  to  build  up  again  the  realm  of 
Eadwine.  Having  extended  his  supremacy  over  the  Mritons  of  Strath- 
clyde  and  won  the  submission  of  the  Lindiswaras.  he  turned  to  reassert 
his  supremacy  over  Wessex.  The  reception  of  the  new  faith  became 
the  mark  of  submission  to  his  overlordship.  A  preacher,  Birinus,  had 
already  penetrated  from  Gaul  into  Wessex  ;  in  Oswald's  presence  its 
king  received  baptism,  and  established  with  his  assent  a  see  for  his 
people  in  the  royal  city  of  Dorchester  on  the  Thames.  C  swald  ruled 
as  wide  a  realm  as  his  predecessor  ;  but  for  after  times  the  memory  of 
his  greatness  was  lost  in  the  legends  of  his  piety.  A  new  conception  of 
kingship  began  to  blend  itself  with  that  of  the  warlike  glory  of  yEthel- 
frith  or  the  wise  administration  of  Eadwine.  The  moral  power  which 
was  to  reach  its  height  in  ALKred  first  dawns  in  the  story  of  Oswald. 
In  his  own  court  the  king  acted  as  interpreter  to  the  Irish  missionaries 
in  their  efforts  to  convert  his  thegns.  '*  By  reason  of  his  constant 
habit  of  praying  or  giving  thanks  to  the  Lord  he  was  wont  wherever 
he  sat  to  hold  his  hands  upturned  on  his  knees."  As  he  feasted  with 
Bishop  Aidan  by  his  side,  the  thegn,  or  noble  of  his  w.ir-band,  whom 
he  had  set  to  give  alms  to  the  poor  at  his  gate,  told  him  of  a  multitude 
that  still  waited  fasting  without.  The  king  at  once  bade  the  untasted 
meat  before  him  be  carried  to  the  poor  and  his  silver  dish  be  divided 
piecemeal  among  them.  Aidan  seized  the  royal  hand  and  blessed  it 
"  May  this  hand,"  he  cried,  "never  grow  old." 

Prisoned,  however,  as  it  was  by  the  conversion  of  Wessex  to  the 
central  districts  of  England,  heathendom  fou  ,ht  desperately  for  life. 
Penda  was  still  its  rallying-point ;  but  if  his  long  reign  was  one 
continuous  battle  with  the  new  religion,  it  was  in  f;»ct  rather  a  struggle 
against  the  supremacy  of  Northumbria  than  against  the  supremacy  of 
the  Cross.  East  Anglia  became  at  last  the  field  of  contest  between  the 
two  powers.  In  642  (.  swald  marched  to  deliver  it  from  Penda  ;  but  in  a 
battle  called  the  battle  of  the  Maserfeld  he  was  overthrown  and  slain. 
His  body  was  mutilated  and  his  limbs  set  on  stakes  by  the  brutal  con- 
queror ;  but  legend  told  that  when  all  else  of  Oswald  had  perished,  the 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


25 


"  white  hand "  that  Aidan  had  blessed  still  remained  white  and  un- 
corrupted.  For  a  few  years  after  his  victory  at  the  Maserfeld  Penda 
stood  supreme  in  Britain.  Wessex  owned  his  overlordship  as  it  had 
owned  that  of  Oswald,  and  its  king  threw  off  the  Christian  faith  and 
married  Penda's  sister.  Even  Deira  seems  to  have  bowed  to  him, 
and  Bernicia  alone  refused  to  yield.  Year  by  year  Penda  carried  his 
ravages  over  the  north  ;  once  he  reached  even  the  royal  city,  the  im- 
pregnable rock-fortress  of  Bamborough.  Despairing  of  success  in  an 
assault,  he  pulled  down  the  cottages  around,  and,  piling  their  wood 
against  its  walls,  fired  the  mass  in  a  fair  wind  that  drove  the  flames 
on  the  town,  "  See,  Lord,  what  ill  Penda  is  doing,"  cried  Aidan  from 
his  hermit  cell  in  the  islet  of  Fame,  as  he  saw  the  smoke  drifting  over 
the  city  ;  and  a  change  of  wind — so  ran  the  legend  of  Northumbria's 
agony — drove  back  at  the  words  the  flames  on  those  who  kindled  them. 
But  in  spite  of  Penda's  victories,  the  faith  which  he  had  so  often  struck 
down  revived  everywhere  around  him.  Burnt  and  harried  as  it  was, 
Bernicia  still  clung  to  the  Cross.  The  East-Saxons  again  became 
Christian.  Penda's  own  son,  whom  be  had  set  over  the  Middle-Eng- 
lish, received  baptism  and  teachers  from  Lindisfdrne.  The  mission- 
aries of  the  new  faith  appeared  fearlessly  among  the  Mercians  them- 
selves, and  Penda  gave  no  hindrance.  Heathen  to  the  last,  he  stood  by 
unheeding  if  any  were  willing  to  hear  ;  hating  and  scorning  with  a 
certain  grand  sincerity  of  nature  "  those  whom  he  saw  not  doing  the 
works  of  the  faith  they  had  received."  But  the  track  of  Northumbrian 
missionaries  along  the  eastern  coast  marked  the  growth  of  Northum- 
brian overlordship,  and  the  old  man  roused  himself  for  a  last  stroke 
at  his  foes.  On  the  death  of  Oswald  Oswiu  had  been  called  to  fill 
his  throne,  and  in  655  he  met  the  pagan  host  near  the  river  Winwasd. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  Northumbrians  had  sought  to  avert  Penda's 
attack  by  offers  of  ornaments  and  costly  gifts.  "Since  the  pagans 
will  not  take  our  gifts,"  Oswiu  cried  at  last,  "  let  us  offer  them  to  One 
that  will ; "  and  he  vowed  that  if  successful  he  would  dedicate  his 
daughter  to  God  and  endow  twelve  monasteries  in  his  realm.  Victory 
at  last  declared  for  the  faith  of  Christ.  The  river  over  which  the 
Mercians  fled  was  swollen  with  a  great  rain  ;  it  swept  away  the  frag- 
ments of  the  heathen  host,  Penda  himself  was  slain,  and  the  cause  of 
the  older  gods  was  lost  for  ever. 

The  terrible  struggle  was  followed  by  a  season  of  peace.  For  four 
years  aftr  r  the  battle  of  Winwaed  Mercia  was  subject  to  Oswiu's 
overlordship.  But  in  659  a  general  rising  of  the  people  threw  off  the 
Northumbrian  yoke.  The  heathendom  of  Mercia  however  was  dead 
with  Penda.  "  Being  thus  freed,"  Bseda  tells  us,  "  the  Mercians  with 
their  1  ing  rejoiced  to  serve  the  true  King,  Christ."  Its  three  provinces, 
the  earlier  Mercia,  the  Middle-English,  and  the  Lindiswaras,  were 
united  in  the  bishopric  of  Ceadda,  the  St.  Chad  to  whom  the  Mercia.) 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fcHAP. 


see  of  Lichfield  still  looks  as  its  founder.  Ceadda  was  a  monk  of 
Lindisfarne,  so  simple  and  lowly  in  temper  that  he  travelled  on  foot 
on  his  long  mission  journeys,  till  Archbishop  Theodore  in  later  days 
with  his  own  hands  lifted  him  on  horseback.  The  poetry  of  Christian 
enthusiasm  breaks  out  in  his  death-legend,  as  it  tells  us  how  voices  of 
singers  singing  sweetly  descended  from  Heaven  to  the  little  cell  beside 
St.  Mary's  church  where  the  bishop  lay  dying.  Then  "the  same  song 
ascended  from  the  roof  again,  and  returned  heavenward  by  the  way 
that  it  came."  It  was  the  soul  of  his  brother,  the  missionary  Cedd, 
come  with  a  choir  of  angels  to  solace  the  last  hours  of  Ceadda.  In 
Northumbria  the  work  of  his  fellow  missionaries  has  almost  been  lost 
in  the  glory  of  Cuthbert.  No  story  better  lights  up  for  us  the  new 
religious  life  of  the  time  than  the  story  of  this  apostle  of  the  Lowlands. 
It  carries  us  at  its  outset  into  the  northernmost  part  of  Northumbria, 
the  country  of  the  Teviot  and  the  Tweed.  Born  on  the  southern  edge 
of  the  Lammermoor,  Cuthbert  found  shelter  at  eight  years  old  in  a 
widow's  house  in  the  little  village  of  Wrangholm.  Already  in  youth 
there  was  a  poetic  sensibility  beneath  the  robust  frame  of  the  boy 
which  caught  even  in  the  chance  word  of  a  game  a  call  to  higher 
things.  Later  on,  a  traveller  coming  in  his  white  mantle  over  t'le  hill- 
side and  stopping  his  horse  to  tend  Cuthbert's  injured  knee  seemed  to 
him  an  angel.  The  boy's  shepherd  life  carried  him  to  the  bleak 
upland,  still  famous  as  a  sheep-walk,  though  the  scant  herbage  scarce 
veils  the  whinstone  rock,  and  there  meteors  plunging  into  the  night 
became  to  him  a  company  of  angelic  spirits,  carrymg  the  soul  of 
Bishop  Aidan  heavenward.  Slowly  Cuthbert's  longings  settled  into  a 
resolute  will  towards  a  religious  life,  and  he  made  his  way  at  last  to  a 
group  of  log-shanties  in  the  midst  of  an  untilled  solitude  where  a  few 
Irish  monks  from  Lindisfarne  had  settled  in  the  mission-station  of 
Melrose.  To-day  the  land  is  a  land  of  poetry  and  romance.  Cheviot 
and  Lammermoor,  Ettrick  and  Teviotdale,  Yarrow  and  Annan-water, 
are  musical  with  old  ballads  and  border  minstrelsy.  Agriculture  has 
chosen  its  valleys  for  her  favourite  sc  it,  and  drainage  and  steam-power 
have  turned  sedgy  marshes  into  farm  and  meadow.  But  to  see  the 
Lowlands  as  they  were  in  Cuthbert's  day  we  must  sweep  meadow  and 
farm  away  again,  and  replace  them  by  vast  solitudes,  dotted  here  and 
there  with  clusters  of  wooden  hovels,  and  crossed  by  boggy  tracks  over 
w!iich  travellers  rode  spear  in  hand  and  eye  kept  cautiously  about 
ihcm.  The  Northumbrian  peasantry  among  whom  he  journeyed  were 
for  the  most  part  Christians  only  in  name.  With  Teutonic  indiffer- 
ence they  had  yielded  to  their  thegns  in  nominally  accepting  the  new 
Christianity,  as  these  had  yielded  to  the  king.  But  they  retained  their 
old  superstitions  side  by  side  with  the  new  worship;  plague  or  mishap 
drove  them  back  to  a  reliance  on  their  heathen  charms  and  amulets; 
and  if  trouble  befell  the  Christian  preachers  who  came  settling  among 


I.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


27 


them  they  took  it  as  proof  of  the  wrath  of  the  older  gods.  When 
some  log-rafts  which  were  floating  down  the  Tyne  for  the  construction 
of  an  abbey  at  its  mouth  drifted  with  the  monks  who  were  at  work  on 
them  out  to  sea,  the  rustic  bystanders  shouted,  "  Let  nobody  pray  for 
them  ;  let  nobody  pity  these  men,  who  have  taken  away  from  us  our 
old  worship  ;  and  how  their  new-fangled  customs  are  to  be  kept  nobody 
knows."  On  foot,  on  horseback,  Cuthbert  wandered  among  listeners 
such  as  these,  choosing  above  all  the  remoter  mountain  villages  from 
whose  roughness  and  poverty  other  teachers  turned  aside.  Unlike  his 
Irish  comrades,  he  needed  no  interpreter  as  he  passed  from  village  to 
village;  the  frugal,  long-headed  Northumbrians  listened  willingly  to 
one  who  was  himself  a  peasant  of  the  Lowlands,  and  who  had  caught 
the  rough  Northumbrian  burr  along  the  banks  of  the  Tweed.  His 
patience,  his  humorous  good  sense,  the  sweetness  of  his  look,  told  for 
him,  and  not  less  the  stout  vigorous  frame  which  fitted  the  peasant- 
preacher  for  the  hard  life  he  had  chosen.  "  Never  did  man  die  of 
hunger  who  served  God  faithfully,"  he  would  say,  when  nightfall  found 
them  supperless  in  the  waste.  "  Look  at  the  eagle  overhead  !  God 
can  feed  us  through  him  if  He  will " — and  once  at  least  he  owed  his  meal 
to  a  fish  that  the  scared  bird  let  fall.  A  snow-storm  drove  his  boat  on 
the  coast  of  Fife.  "  The  snow  closes  the  road  along  the  shore," 
mourned  his  comrades  ;  "the  storm  bars  our  way  over  sea."  "  There 
is  still  the  way  of  Heaven  that  lies  open,"  said  Cuthbert. 

While  missionaries  were  thus  labouring  among  its  peasantry, 
Northumbria  saw  the  rise  of  a  number  of  monasteries,  not  bound 
indeed  by  the  strict  ties  of  the  Benedictine  rule,  but  gathered  on  the 
/oose  Celtic  model  of  the  family  or  the  clan  round  some  noble  and 
wealthy  person  who  sought  devotional  retirement.  The  most  notable 
and  wealthy  of  these  houses  was  that  of  Streoneshealh,  where  Hild,  a 
woman  of  royal  race,  reared  her  abbey  on  the  summit  of  the  dark  cliffs 
of  Whitby,  looking  out  over  the  Northern  Sea.  Her  counsel  was  sought 
£ven  by  nobles  and  kings  ;  and  the  double  monastery  over  which  she 
ruled  became  a  seminary  of  bishops  and  priests.  The  sainted  John  of 
Beverley  was  among  her  scholars.  But  the  name  which  really  throws 
glory  over  Whitby  is  the  name  of  a  lay-brother  from  whose  lips  flowed 
the  first  great  English  song.  Though  well  advanced  in  years,  Casdmon 
had  learnt  nothing  of  the  art  of  verse,  the  alliterative  jingle  so  common 
among  his  fellows,  "wherefore  being  sometimes  at  feasts,  when  all 
agreed  for  glee's  sake  to  sing  in  turn,  he  no  sooner  saw  the  harp  come 
towards  him  than  he  rose  from  the  board  and  turned  homewards. 
L  nee  when  he  had  done  thus,  and  gone  from  the  feast  to  the  stable 
where  he  had  that  night  charge  of  the  cattle,  there  appeared  to  him  in 
his  sleep  One  who  said,  greeting  him  by  name, '  Sing,  Caedmon,  some 
song  to  Me.'  '  I  cannot  sing,'  he  answered  ;  'for  this  cause  left  I  the 
feast  and  came  hither.'     He  who  talked  with  him  answered, '  However 


Sec.  III. 
Thk 

NOKTH- 
UMHKIAN 

Kingdom 
588 

TO 

685 


Csedxnon 


Before  680 


28 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


that  be,  you  shall  sing  to  Me.'  *  What  shall  I  sing  ?*  rejoined  Caedmon. 
'The  beginning  of  created  things,' replied  He.  In  the  morning  the 
cowherd  stood  before  Hild  and  told  his  dream.  Abbess  and  brethren 
alike  concluded  '  that  heavenly  grace  had  been  conferred  on  him  by 
the  Lord.'  They  translated  for  Caedmon  a  passage  in  Holy  Writ, 
*  bidding  him,  if  he  could,  put  the  same  into  verse.'  The  next  morning 
he  gave  it  them  composed  in  excellent  verse,  whereon  the  abbess, 
understanding  the  divine  grace  in  the  man,  bade  him  quit  the  secular 
habit  and  take  on  him  the  monastic  life."  Piece  by  piece  the  sacred 
story  was  thus  thrown  into  Caedmon's  poem.  "  He  sang  of  the  creation 
of  the  world,  of  the  origin  of  man,  and  of  all  the  history  of  Israel ;  of 
their  departure  from  Egypt  and  entering  into  the  Promised  Land  ;  of 
the  incarnation,  passion,  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  and  of  his  ascen- 
sion ;  of  the  terror  of  future  judgment,  the  horror  of  hell-pangs,  and 
the  joys  of  heaven." 

To  men  of  that  day  this  sudden  burst  of  song  seemed  a  thing 
necessarily  divine.  "  Others  after  him  strove  to  compose  religious 
poems,  but  none  could  vie  with  him,  for  he  learned  the  art  of  poetry  not 
from  men  nor  of  men,  but  from  God."  It  was  not  indeed  that  any 
change  had  been  wrought  by  Caedmon  in  the  outer  form  of  English 
song.  The  collection  of  poems  which  is  connected  with  his  name  has 
come  down  to  us  in  a  later  West-Saxon  version,  and  though  modem 
criticism  is  still  in  doubt  as  to  their  authorship,  they  are  certainly  the 
work  of  various  hands.  The  verse,  whether  of  Caedmon  or  of  other 
singers,  is  accented  and  alliterative,  without  conscious  art  or  develop- 
ment or  the  delight  that  springs  from  reflection,  a  verse  swift  and 
direct,  but  leaving  behind  it  a  sense  of  strength  rather  than  of 
beauty,  obscured  too  by  harsh  metaphors  and  involved  construc- 
tion. But  it  is  eminently  the  verse  of  warriors,  the  brief  passionate 
expression  of  brief  passionate  emotions.  Image  after  image,  phrase 
after  phrase,  in  these  early  poems,  start  out  vivid,  harsh  and  em- 
phatic. The  very  metre  is  rough  with  a  sort  of  self-violence  and 
repression  ;  the  verses  fall  like  sword-strokes  in  the  thick  of  battle. 
The  love  of  natural  description,  the  background  of  melancholy  which 
gives  its  pathos  to  English  verse,  the  poet  only  shared  with  earlier 
singers.  Hut  the  faith  of  Christ  brought  in,  as  we  have  seen,  new 
realms  of  fancy.  The  legends  of  the  heavenly  light,  Ha;da's  story  o^ 
"  The  Sparrow,"  show  the  side  of  English  temperament  to  which 
Christianity  appealed — its  sense  of  the  vague,  vast  mystery  of  the 
world  and  of  man,  its  dreamy  revolt  against  the  narrow  bounds  of 
experience  and  life.  It  was  this  new  poetic  world  which  combined 
with  the  old  in  the  so-called  epic  of  Caedmon.  In  its  various  poems 
the  vagueness  and  daring  of  the  Teutonic  imagination  pass  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  Hebrew  story  to  a  "  3wart  hell  without  light  and  full 
J  of  flame,"  swept  only  at  dawn  by  the  icy  cast  wind,  on  whose  floor  lit 


M 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


bound  the  apostate  angels.  The  human  energy  of  the  German  race, 
its  sense  of  the  might  of  individual  manhood,  transformed  in  English 
verse  the  Hebrew  Tempter  into  a  rebel  Satan,  disdainful  of  vassalage 
to  God.  "  I  may  be  a  God  as  He,"  Satan  cries  amidst  his  torments. 
"  Evil  it  seems  to  me  to  cringe  to  Him  for  any  good."  Even  in  this 
terrible  outburst  of  the  fallen  spirit,  we  catch  the  new  pathetic  note 
which  the  Northern  melancholy  was  to  give  to  our  poetry.  "  This  is 
to  me  the  chief  of  sorrow,  that  Adam,  wrought  of  earth,  should  hold 
my  strong  seat — should  dwell  in  joy  while  we  endure  this  torment. 
Oh,  that  for  one  winter  hour  I  had  power  with  my  hands,  then  with 
this  host  would  I — but  around  me  lie  the  iron  bonds,  and  this  chain 
galls  me."  On  the  other  hand  the  enthusiasm  for  the  Christian  God, 
faith  in  whom  had  been  bought  so  dearly  by  years  of  desperate 
struggle,  breaks  out  in  long  rolls  of  sonorous  epithets  of  praise  and 
adoration.  The  temper  of  the  poets  brings  them  near  to  the  earlier 
fire  and  passion  of  the  Hebrew,  as  the  events  of  their  time  brought 
them  near  to  the  old  Bible  history  with  its  fights  and  wanderings. 
"  The  wolves  sing  their  dread  evensong  ;  the  fowls  of  war,  greedy  of 
battle,  dewy-feathered,  scream  around  the  host  of  Pharaoh,"  as  wolf 
howled  and  eagle  screamed  round  the  host  of  Penda.  Everywhere 
we  mark  the  new  grandeur,  depth,  and  fervour  of  tone  which  the 
German  race  was  to  give  to  the  religion  of  the  East. 

But  even  before  Casdmon  had  begun  to  sing,  the  Christian  Church  of 
Northumbria  was  torn  in  two  by  a  strife  whose  issue  was  decided  in 
the  same  abbey  of  Whitby  where  Cccdmon  dwelt.  The  labours  of 
Aidan,  the  victories  of  Oswald  and  Oswiu,  seemed  to  have  annexed 
England  to  the  Irish  Church.  The  monks  of  Lindisfarne,  or  of  the 
new  religious  houses  whose  foundation  followed  that  of  Lindisfarne, 
looked  for  their  ecclesiastical  tradition,  not  to  Rome  but  to  Ireland  : 
and  quoted  for  their  guidance  the  instructions,  not  of  Gregory,  but  of 
Columba.  Whatever  claims  of  supremacy  over  the  whole  English 
Church  might  be  pressed  by  the  see  of  Canterbury,  the  real  metropo- 
litan of  the  Church  as  it  existed  in  the  north  of  England  was  the  Abbot 
of  lona.  But  Oswiu's  queen  brought  with  her  from  Kent  the  loyalty 
of  the  Kentish  church  to  the  Roman  see,  and  a  Roman  party  at  once 
formed  about  her.  Her  efforts  were  seconded  by  those  of  two  young 
thegns  whose  love  of  Rome  mounted  to  a  passionate  fanaticism.  The 
life  of  Wilfrid  of  York  was  a  series  of  flights  to  Rome  and  returns  to 
England,  of  wonderful  successes  in  pleading  the  right  of  Rome  to  the 
obedience  of  the  Church  of  Northumbria,  and  of  as  wonderful  defeats. 
Benedict  Biscop  worked  towards  the  same  end  in  a  quieter  fashion, 
coming  backwards  and  forwards  across  the  sea  with  books  and  relics 
and  cunning  masons  and  painters  to  rear  a  great  church  and  monastery 
at  Wearmouth,  whose  brethren  owned  obedience  to  the  Roman  See. 
In  652  they  first  set  out  for  a  visit  to  the  imperial  city  ;  and  the  elder, 


30 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Theodore 

669  690 


Benedict  Biscop,  soon  returned  to  preach  ceaselessly  against  the  Irish 
usages.  He  was  followed  by  Wilfrid,  whose  energy  soon  brought  the 
quarrel  to  a  head.  The  strife  between  the  two  parties  rose  so  high  at  last 
that  Oswiu  was  prevailed  upon  to  summon  in  664  a  great  council  at 
Whitby,  where  the  future  ecclesiastical  allegiance  of  England  should 
be  decided.  The  points  actually  contested  were  trivial  enough. 
Colman,  Aidan's  successor  at  Holy  Island,  pleaded  for  the  Irish 
fashion  of  the  tonsure,  and  for  the  Irish  time  of  keeping  Easter; 
Wilfrid  pleaded  for  the  Roman.  The  one  disputant  appealed  to  the 
authority  of  Columba,  the  other  to  that  of  St.  Peter.  '*  You  own," 
cried  the  king  at  last  to  Colman,  "  that  Christ  gave  to  Peter  the  keys 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven — has  He  given  such  power  to  Columba  ?  " 
The  bishop  could  but  answer  "  No."  "Then  will  I  rather  obey  the 
porter  of  Heaven,"  said  Oswiu,  "  lest  when  I  reach  its  gates  he  who 
has  the  keys  in  his  keeping  turn  his  back  on  me,  and  there  be  none  to 
open."  The  importance  of  Oswiu's  judgment  was  never  doubted  at 
Lindisfarne,  where  Colman,  followed  by  the  whole  of  the  Irish-bom 
brethren  and  thirty  of  their  English  fellows,  forsook  the  see  of  Aidan 
and  sailed  away  to  lona.  Trivial  in  fact  as  were  the  actual  points  of 
difference  which  severed  the  Roman  Church  from  the  Irish,  the  question 
to  which  communion  Northumbria  should  belong  was  of  immense 
moment  to  the  after  fortunes  of  England.  Had  the  Church  of  Aidan 
finally  won,  the  later  ecclesiastical  history  of  England  would  probably 
have  resembled  that  of  Ireland.  Devoid  of  that  power  of  organization 
which  was  the  strength  of  the  Roman  Church,  the  Celtic  Church  in  its 
own  Irish  home  took  the  clan  system  of  the  country  as  the  basis  of 
Church  government.  Tribal  quarrels  and  ecclesiastical  controversies 
became  inextricably  confounded  ;  and  the  clergy,  robbed  of  all  really 
spiritual  influence,  contributed  no  element  save  that  of  disorder  to  the 
state.  Hundreds  of  wandering  bishops,  a  vast  religious  authority 
wielded  by  hereditary  chieftains,  the  dissociation  of  piety  from  morality, 
the  absence  of  those  larger  and  more  humanizing  influences  which 
contact  with  a  wider  world  alone  can  give,  this  is  the  picture  which 
the  Irish  Church  of  later  times  presents  to  us.  It  was  from  such  a 
chaos  as  this  that  England  was  saved  by  the  victory  of  Rome  in  the 
Synod  of  Whitby. 

The  Church  of  England,  as  we  know  it  to-day,  is  the  work,  so  fr.r  as 
its  outer  form  is  concerned,  of  a  (ireek  monk, '1  hcodore  of  Tarsus, 
whom  Rome,  after  her  victory  at  Whitby,  despatched  in  669  as  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  to  secure  England  to  her  sway.  Theodore's  work 
was  determined  in  its  main  outlines  by  the  previous  history  of  the 
English  people.  The  conquest  of  the  Continent  had  been  wrought 
cither  by  races  such  as  the  Goths,  who  were  already  Christian,  or  by 
heathens  like  the  Franks,  who  bowed  to  the  Christian  faith  of  the 
nations  they  conquered.     To  this  oneness  of  religion  between  the 


I-J 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


German  invaders  of  the  Empire  and  their  Roman  subjects  was  owing 
the  preservation  of  all  that  survived  of  the  Roman  world.  The  Church 
everywhere  remained  untouched.  The  Christian  bishop  became  the 
defender  of  the  conquered  Italian  or  Gaul  against  his  Gothic  and 
Lombard  conqueror,  the  mediator  between  the  Gerrnan  and  his  sub- 
jects, the  one  bulwark  against  barbaric  violence  and  oppression.  To 
the  barbarian  on  the  other  hand  he  was  the  representative  of  all  that 
was  venerable  in  the  past,  the  living  record  of  law,  of  letters,  and 
of  art.  But  in  Britain  priesthood  and  people  had  been  extermi- 
nated together.  When  Theodore  came  to  organize  the  Church  of 
England,  the  very  memory  of  the  older  Christian  Church  which  existed 
in  Roman  Britain  had  passed  away.  The  first  Christian  missionaries, 
strangers  in  a  heathen  land,  attached  themselves  necessarily  to  the 
courts  of  the  kings,  who  were  their  first  converts,  and  whose  conversion 
was  generally  followed  by  that  of  their  people.  The  English  bishops 
were  thus  at  first  royal  chaplains,  and  their  diocese  was  naturally 
nothing  but  the  kingdom.  The  kingdom  of  Kent  became  the  diocese 
of  Canterbury,  and  the  kingdom  of  Northumbria  the  dio  ese  of  York. 
In  this  way  too  realms  which  are  all  but  forgotten  are  commemorated 
in  the  limits  of  existing  sees.  That  of  Rochester  represented  till  of 
late  an  obscure  kingdom  of  West  Kent,  and  the  frontier  of  the  original 
kingdom  of  Mercia  might  be  recovered  by  following  the  map  of  the 
ancient  bishopric  of  Lichfield.  Theodore's  first  work  was  to  order 
the  dioceses  ;  his  second  was  to  add  many  new  sees  to  the  old  ones, 
and  to  group  all  of  them  round  the  one  centre  of  Canterbury.  All  ties 
between  England  and  the  Irish  Church  were  roughly  bro'  en.  Lindis- 
farne  sank  into  obscurity  with  the  flight  of  Colman  and  his  monks. 
The  new  prelates,  gathered  in  synod  after  synod,  acknowledged  the 
authority  of  their  one  primate.  The  organization  of  the  episcopate 
was  followed  during  the  next  hundred  years  by  the  development  of  the 
parish  system.  The  loose  system  of  the  mission-station,  the  monastery 
from  which  priest  and  bishop  went  forth  on  journey  after  journey  to 
preach  and  baptize,  as  Aidan  went  forth  from  Lindisfarne  or  Cuthbert 
from  Melrose,  naturally  disappeared  as  the  land  became  Christian. 
The  missionaries  became  settled  clergy.  The  holding  of  the  English 
noble  or  landown.?r  became  the  parish,  and  his  chaplain  the  parish 
priest,  as  the  king's  chaplain  had  become  the  bishop,  and  the  kingdom 
his  diocese.  A  sour:e  of  permanent  endowment  for  the  clergy  was 
found  at  a  later  time  in  the  revival  of  the  Jewish  system  of  tithes,  and 
in  the  annual  gift  to  Church  purposes  of  a  tenth  of  the  produce  of  the 
soil  ;  while  discipline  within  the  Church  itself  was  provided  for  by  an 
elaborate  code  of  sin  and  penance  in  which  the  principle  of  compen- 
sation which  lay  at  the  root  of  Teutonic  legislation,  crept  into  the 
relations  between  God  and  the  soul. 

In  his  work  of  organization,  in  his  increase  of  bishoprics,  in  his 


32 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP 


arrangement  of  dioceses,  and  the  way  in  which  he  grouped  them  round 
the  see  of  Canterbury,  in  his  national  synods  and  ecclesiastical  canons, 
Theodore  was  unconsciously  doing  a  political  work.  The  old  divisions 
of  kingdoms  and  tribes  .ibout  him,  divisions  which  had  sprung  for  the 
most  part  from  mere  accidents  of  the  conquest,  were  fast  breaking 
down.  The  smaller  states  were  by  this  time  practically  absorbed  by 
the  three  larger  ones,  and  of  these  three  Mercia  and  Wcssex  had  for  a 
time  bowed  to  the  overlordship  of  Northumbria.  The  tendency  to 
national  unity  which  was  to  characterize  the  new  England  had  thus 
already  declared  itself;  but  the  policy  of  Theodore  clothed  with  a 
sacred  form  and  surrounded  with  divine  sanctions  a  unity  which  as  yet 
rested  on  no  basis  but  the  sword.  The  single  throne  of  the  one 
primate  at  Canterbury  accustomed  men's  minds  to  the  thought  of  a 
single  throne  for  their  one  temporrl  overh^rd  at  York,  or,  as  in  later 
days,  at  Lichfield  or  at  Winchester.  The  regular  subordination  of 
priest  to  bishop,  of  bishop  to  primate,  in  the  administration  of  the 
Church,  supplied  a  mould  on  which  the  civil  organization  of  the  state 
quietly  shaped  it  elf.  Above  all,  the  councils  gathered  by  Theodore 
were  the  first  of  all  national  gatherings  for  general  legislation.  It  was 
at  a  much  later  time  that  the  Wise  Men  of  Wessex,  or  Northumbria,  or 
Mercia,  learned  to  come  together  in  the  Witenagemot  of  all  England. 
It  was  the  ecclesiastical  synods  which  by  their  example  led  the  way  to 
our  national  parliament,  as  it  was  the  canons  enacted  in  such  synods 
which  led  the  way  to  a  national  system  of  law.  liut  if  the  movement 
towards  national  unity  was  furthered  by  the  centralizing'  tendencies  of 
the  Church,  it  was  as  yet  hindered  by  the  upgrowth  of  a  great  rivaJ 
power  to  contest  the  supremacy  with  Northumbria.  Mercia,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  recovered  from  the  absolute  subjection  in  which  it  was 
left  after  I'enda's  fall  by  shaking  off  the  supremacy  of  Oswiu,  and  by 
choosing  Wulfherc  for  its  king.  Wulfhere  was  a  vigorous  and  active 
ruler,  and  the  peaceful  reign  of  Oswiu  left  hi:n  free  to  build  up  again 
during  the  sixteen  years  of  his  rule  the  power  which  had  been  lost  at 
I'enda's  death.  Penda's  realm  in  Central  Britain  was  quickly  restored, 
and  Wulfhere's  dominion  extended  even  over  the  .Severn  and  em- 
braced the  lower  valley  of  the  Wye.  lie  had  even  more  than  hi> 
father's  success.  After  a  great  victory  in  66 1  over  the  West-Saxons, 
his  ravages  were  carried  into  the  heart  of  Wessex,  and  the  valley  of 
the  Thames  opened  to  his  army.  To  the  eastward,  the  East-Saxons 
and  London  came  to  own  his  supremacy  ;  while  southward  he  pushed 
across  the  river  ove»  Surrey.  In  the  same  year,  66 1,  Sussex,  perhaps 
in  dread  of  the  West-Saxons,  found  protection  in  accepting  Wulfhere's 
overlordship,  and  its  king  was  rewarded  by  a  gift  of  two  outlying 
settlements  of  the  Jute  ,  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  the  lands  of  the 
Meon-wara  alonj:  the  Southampton  Water,  which  we  mu  t  suppose  had 
been  reduced  by  Mercian  arms.     The  Mercian  suoremacv  which  tnuj 


I.J 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


3d 


reached  from  the  H  umber  to  the  Channel  and  stretched  westward  to 
the  Wye  was  the  main  pohtical  fact  in  Britain  when  Theodore  landed 
on  its  shores.  In  fact,  with  the  death  of  Oswiu  in  670  all  effort  was 
finally  abandoned  by  Northumbria  to  crush  the  rival  states  in  Central 
or  Southern  Britain. 

The  industrial  progress  of  the  Mercian  kingdom  went  hand  in  hand 
with  its  military  advance.  The  forests  of  its  western  border,  the 
marshes  of  its  eastern  coast,  were  being  cleared  and  drained  by 
monastic  colonies,  whose  success  shows  the  hold  which  Christianity 
had  now  gained  over  its  people.  Heathenism  indeed  still  held  its 
own  in  the  western  woodlands  ;  we  may  perhaps  see  Woden-worship- 
ping miners  at  Alcester  in  the  daemons  of  the  legend  of  Bishop  Ecgwine 
of  Worcester,  who  drowned  the  preacher's  voice  with  the  din  of  their 
hammers.  But  in  spite  of  their  hammers  Ecgwine's  preaching  left 
one  lasting  mark  behind  it.  The  bishop  heard  how  a  swineherd, 
coming  out  from  the  forest  depths  on  a  sunny  glade,  saw  forms  which 
were  possibly  those  of  theThree  Fair  Women  of  the  old  German  mytho- 
logy, seated  round  a  mystic  bush,  and  singing  their  unearthly  song. 
In  his  fancy  the  fair  women  transf  )rmed  themselves  into  a  vision  of 
the  Mother  of  Christ ;  and  the  silent  glade  soon  became  the  site 
of  an  abbey  dedicated  to  her,  and  of  a  town  which  sprang  up  under 
its  shelter — the  Evesham  which  was  to  be  hallowed  in  after  time 
by  the  fall  of  Earl  Simon  of  Leicester.  Wilder  even  than  the  western 
woodland  was  the  desolate  fen-country  on  the  eastern  border  of  the 
kingdom,  stretching  from  the  "  Holland,"  the  sunk,  hollow  land  of 
Lincolnshire,  to  the  channel  of  the  Ouse,  a  wilderness  of  shallow  waters 
and  reedy  islets  wrapped  in  its  own  dark  mist- veil  and  tenanted  only 
by  flocks  of  screaming  wild-fowl.  Here  through  the  liberality  of  King 
Wulfhere  rose  the  abbey  of  Medeshamstead,  our  later  Peterborough. 
On  its  northern  border  a  hermit,  Botulf,  founded  a  little  house  which 
as  ages  went  by  became  our  Botulf  s  town  or  Boston.  T':e  abbey 
of  Ely  was  founded  in  the  same  wild  fen-country  by  the  Lady  ^thel- 
thryth,  the  wife  of  King  Ecgfrith,  who  in  the  year  670  succeeded  Oswiu 
on  the  throne  of  Northumbria.  Here,  too,  Guihlac,  a  youth  of  the 
royal  race  of  Mercia,  sought  a  refuge  from  the  world  in  the  solitude 
of  Crowland,  and  so  great  was  the  reverence  he  won,  that  only  two 
years  hid  passed  since  his  death  when  the  stately  abbey  of  Crowland 
rose  over  his  tomb.  Earth  was  brought  in  boats  to  form  a  site  ;  the 
buildings  rested  on  oaken  piles  driven  into  the  marsh,  a  stone  church 
replaced  the  hermit's  cell,  and  the  toil  of  the  new  brotherhood  changed 
the  pools  around  them  into  fertile  meadow-land. 

But  while  Mercia  was  building  up  its  dominion  in  Mid-Britain, 
Northumbria  was  far  from  having  sunk  from  its  old  renown  either  in 
government  or  war.  Ecgfrith  had  succeeded  his  father  Oswiu  in  670, 
ana  made  no  effort  to  reverse  his  policy,  or  attempt  to  build  up  agair. 


34 


IIISTOKY  OK  THE  ENGLISFI  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


a  supremacy  over  the  states  of  southern  Britain.  His  ambition  firned 
rather  to  conquests  over  the  Briton  than  to  victories  over  his  fellow 
l!nglish  nen.  The  war  between  Briton  and  Englishman,  which  had 
languished  since  the  battle  of  Chester,  had  been  revived  some  twenty 
years  before  by  an  advance  of  the  West-Saxons  to  the  south-west. 
Unable  to  save  the  possessions  of  Wessex  in  the  Severn  valley  and 
on  the  Cotswolds  from  the  grasp  of  Fenda,  the  West-Saxon  king, 
Cenwealh,  seized  the  moment  when  Mercia  was  absorbed  in  the  last 
struggle  of  Penda  against  Northumbria  to  seek  for  compensation  in 
an  attack  on  his  Welsh  neighbours.  A  victory  at  Bradford  on  the 
Avon  enabled  him  to  overrun  the  country  north  of  Mendip  which  had 
till  then  been  held  by  the  Britons;  and  a  second  campaign  in  658, 
which  ended  in  a  victory  on  the  skirts  of  the  great  forest  that  covered 
Somerset  to  the  east,  settled  the  West-Saxons  as  conquerors  round 
the  sources  of  the  Parret.  It  may  have  been  the  example  of  the  West- 
Saxons  which  spurred  Ecgfrith  to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  his  kingdom 
by  a  series  of  attacks  upon  his  British  neighbours  in  the  west.  His 
armies  chased  the  Britons  from  southern  Cumbria  and  made  the 
districts  of  Carlisle,  the  Lake  country,  and  our  Lancashire  English 
ground.  His  success  in  this  quarter  was  quickly  followed  by  fresh 
gain  in  the  north,  where  he  pushe^l  his  conquests  over  the  Scots 
beyond  Clydesdale,  and  subdued  the  Picts  over  the  Firth  of  Forth,  so 
that  their  territory  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  Forth  was  from  this 
time  reckoned  as  Northumbrian  ground.  The  monastery  of  Abercorn 
on  the  shore  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  in  which  a  few  years  later  a 
Northumbrian  bishop,  Trumwine,  fixed  the  seat  of  a  new  bishopric, 
was  a  sign  of  the  subjection  of  the  Picts  to  the  Northumbrian  over- 
lordship.  F^ven  when  recalled  from  the  wars  to  his  southern  border 
by  an  attack  of  Wulfhere's  in  675,  the  vigorous  and  warlike  Ecgfrith 
proved  a  different  foe  from  the  West-Saxon  or  the  Jute,  and  the  defeat 
of  the  king  of  Mercia  was  so  complete  that  he  was  glad  to  purchase 
peace  by  giving  up  to  his  conqueror  the  province  of  the  Lindiswaras 
or  Lincolnshire.  A  large  part  of  the  conquered  country  of  the  Lake 
district  was  bestowed  upon  the  see  of  Lindisfarne,  which  was  at  this 
time  filled  by  one  whom  we  have  seen  before  labouring  as  the  Apostle 
of  the  Lowlands.  After  years  of  mission  labour  at  Melrose,  Cuthbert 
had  quitted  it  for  Holy  Island,  and  preached  among  the  moors  of 
Northumberland  as  he  had  preached  beside  the  banks  of  the  Tweed. 
He  remained  there  through  the  great  secession  which  followed  on  the 
Synod  of  Whitby,  and  became  prior  of  the  dwindled  company  of 
brethren,  now  torn  with  endless  disputes,  against  which  his  patience 
and  good  humour  struggled  in  vain.  Worn  out  at  last  he  fled  to  a 
little  island  of  basaltic  rock,  one  of  a  group  not  far  from  Ida's  fortress 
of  Bamborough,  strewn  for  the  most  part  with  kelp  and  seaweed,  the 
home  of  the  gull  and  the  seal.    In  the  midst  of  it  rose  his  hut  of  »ough 


'.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


35 


stones  and  turf,  dug  deep  into  the  rock  and  roofed  with  logs  and 
straw. 

The  reverence  for  his  sanctity  dragged  Cuthbert  back  in  old  age  to 
fill  the  vacant  see  of  Lindisfarne.  He  entered  CarHsle,  which  the  king 
had  bestowed  upon  the  bishopric,  at  a  moment  when  all  Northumbria 
was  waiting  for  news  of  a  fresh  campaign  of  Ecgfrith's  against  the 
Britons  in  the  north.  The  power  of  Northumbria  was  already  however 
fatally  shaken.  In  the  south,  Mercia  had  in  679  renewed  the  attempt 
which  had  been  checked  by  Wulf here's  defeat.  His  successor,  the 
Mercian  king  ^thelred,  again  seized  the  province  of  the  Lindiswaras, 
and  the  war  he  thus  began  with  Northumbria  was  only  ended  by  a 
peace  negotiated  through  Archbishop  Theodore,  which  left  him  master 
of  M  iddle  England.  Old  troubles  too  revived  on  Ecgfrith's  northern 
frontier,  where  a  rising  of  the  Picts  forced  him  once  more  to  cross  the 
Firth  of  Forth,  and  march  in  the  year  685  into  their  land  A  sense 
of  coming  ill  weighed  on  Northumbria,  and  its  dread  was  quickened 
by  a  memory  of  the  curses  which  had  been  pronounced  by  the  bishops 
of  Ireland  on  the  king,  when  his  navy,  setting  out  a  year  before  from 
the  newly-conquered  western  coast,  swept  the  Irish  shores  in  a  raid 
which  seemed  like  sacrilege  to  those  who  loved  the  home  of  Aidan 
and  Columba.  As  Cuthbert  bent  over  a  Roman  fountain  which  still 
stood  unharmed  amongst  the  ruins  of  Carlisle,  the  anxious  bystanders 
thought  they  caught  words  of  ill  omen  falling  from  the  old  man's  lips. 
"  Perhaps,"  he  seemed  to  murmur,  "  at  this  very  hour  the  peril  of 
the  fight  is  over  and  done."  "  Watch  and  pray,"  he  said,  when  they 
questioned  him  on  the  morrow;  "watch  and  pray."  In  a  few  days 
more  a  solitary  fugitive  escaped  from  the  slaughter  told  that  the  Picts 
had  turned  desperately  to  bay"  as  the  English  army  entered  Fife  ;  and 
that  Ecgfrith  and  the  flower  of  his  nobles  lay,  a  ghastly  ring  of  corpses, 
on  the  far-off  moorland  of  Nectansmere. 

To  Cuthbert  the  tidings  were  tidings  of  death.  His  bishopric  was 
soon  laid  aside,  and  two  months  after  his  return  to  his  island-hermitage 
the  old  man  lay  dying,  murmuring  to  the  last  words  of  concord  and 
peace.  A  signal  of  his  death  had  been  agreed  upon,  and  one  of  those 
who  stood  by  ran  with  a  candle  in  each  hand  to  a  place  whence  the 
light  might  be  seen  by  a  monk  who  was  looking  out  from  the  watch- 
tower  of  Lindisfarne.  As  the  tiny  gleam  flashed  over  the  dark  reach 
of  sea,  and  the  watchman  hurried  with  his  news  into  the  church,  the 
brethren  of  Holy  Island  were  singing,  as  it  chanced,  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist  :  "  Thou  hast  cast  us  out  and  scattered  us  abro  id  ;  Thou  hast 
also  been  displeased  ;  Thou  hast  shown  thy  people  heavy  things  ;  Thou 
hast  given  us  a  drink  of  deadly  wine."  The  chant  was  the  dirge,  not 
of  Cuthbert  only,  but  of  his  Church  and  his  people.  Over  both  hung 
the  gloom  of  a  seeming  failure.  Strangers  who  knew  not  lona  and 
Columba  entered  into  the  heritage  of  Aidan  and  Cuthbert.     As  the 


36 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Roman  communion  folded  England  again  beneath  her  wing,  men 
forgot  that  a  Church  which  passed  utterly  away  had  battled  with  Rome 
for  the  spiritiial  headship  of  Western  Christendom,  and  that  through- 
out the  great  struggle  with  the  heathen  reaction  of  Mid- Britain  the 
new  religion  had  its  centre  not  at  Canterbury,  but  at  Lindisfame.  Nor 
were  men  long  to  remember  that  from  the  days  of  ytthelfrith  to  the 
days  of  Ecgfrith  English  politics  had  found  their  centre  at  York. 
But  forgotten  or  no,  Northumbria  had  done  its  work.  By  its  mission- 
aries and  by  its  sword  it  had  won  England  from  heathendom  to  the 
Christian  Church.  It  had  given  her  a  new  poetic  literature.  Its 
monasteiies  were  already  the  seat  of  whatever  intellectual  life  the 
country  possessed.  Above  all  it  had  first  gathered  together  into  a 
loose  political  unity  the  various  tribes  of  the  English  people,  and  by 
standing  at  their  head  for  half  a  century  had  accustomed  them  to 
a  national  life,  out  of  which  England,  as  we  have  it  now,  was  to 
spring. 


Section  IV.— The  Three  Kln^domB,  685—828. 

{Auikoriiics. — A  few  incidents  of  Mercian  history  are  preserved  among  the 
meagre  annals  of  Wessex,  which  form,  during  this  period,  "  The  English 
Chronicle."  But  for  the  most  part  we  are  thrown  upon  later  writers,  especi- 
ally Henry  of  Huntingdon  and  William  of  Malmeshury,  both  author-,  of  the 
t-.clflh  century,  but  having  access  to  older  materials  now  lost.  The  letters 
of  Boniface  and  those  of  Alcuin,  which  form  the  most  valuable  contem- 
porary materials  for  this  period,  are  given  by  Dr.  Giles  in  his  '*  Patres  Kcclesiae 
Anglicana:."  They  have  also  been  carefully  edited  by  Jafle  in  his  series  of 
"  Monumenta  Germanica."] 

The  supremacy  of  Northumbria  over  the  English  people  had  fallen 
for  ever  with  the  death  of  Oswiu,  and  its  power  over  the  tribes  of  the 
north  was  as  completely  broken  by  the  death  of  Ecgfrith  and  the 
defeat  of  Nectansmere.  To  the  north,  the  flight  of  Bishop  Trumwine 
from  Abercorn  announced  the  revolt  of  the  Picts  from  her  rule.  In 
the  south,  Mercia  proved  a  formidable  rival  under  i^thelred,  who  had 
succeeded  Wulfhere  in  675.  Already  his  kingdom  reached  from  the 
H umber  to  the  Channel ;  and  yCthelred  in  the  first  years  of  his  reign 
had  finally  reduced  Kent  beneath  his  overlordship.  All  hope  of  national 
union  seemed  indeed  at  an  end,  for  the  revival  of  the  West-Saxon  power 
at  thismomentcompleted  the  parting  ofthelandintothree  states  of  nearly 
ccjual  power  out  of  which  it  seemed  impossible  that  unity  could  come. 
Since  their  overthrow  at  Faddiley,  a  hundred  years  before,  the  West- 
Saxons  had  been  weakened  by  anarchy  and  civil  war,  and  had  been  at 
the  mercy  alike  of  the  rival  English  states  and  of  the  Britons.  We 
.lave  seen  however  that  in  652  a  revival  of  power  had  enabled  them 
to  drive  back  the  Britons  to  the  Parret.     A  second  interval  of  order 


i-l 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


37 


in  682  strengthened  King  Centwine  again  to  take  up  war  with  the 
Britons,  and  push  his  frontier  as  far  as  the  Quantocks.  A  third  rally 
of  the  West-Saxons  in  685  under  Ceadwalla  enabled  them  to  turn  on 
their  English  enemies  and  conquer  Sussex.  Ine,  the  greatest  of  their 
early  kings,  whose  reign  covered  the  long  period  from  688  to  726, 
carried  on  during  the  whole  of  it  the  war  for  supremacy.  Eastward, 
ne  forced  Kent,  Essex  and  London  to  own  his  rule.  On  the  west,  he 
pushed  his  way  southward  round  the  marshes  of  the  Parret  to  a  more 
fertile  territory,  and  guarded  the  frontier  of  his  new  conquests  by  a 
fortress  on  the  banks  of  the  Tone,  which  has  grown  into  the  present 
Taunton.  The  West  Saxons  thus  became  masters  of  the  whole  dis- 
trict which  now  bears  the  name  of  Somerset,  the  land  of  the  Somer- 
saetas,  where  the  Tor  rose  like  an  island  out  of  a  waste  of  flood-drowned 
fen  that  stretched  westward  to  the  Channel.  At  the  base  of  this  hill 
Ine  established  on  the  site  of  an  older  British  foundation  his  famous 
monastery  of  Glastonbury.  The  little  hamlet  in  which  it  stood  took 
its  English  name  from  one  of  the  English  families,  the  Glaestings,  who 
chose  the  spot  for  their  settlement ;  but  it  had  long  been  a  religious  shrine 
of  the  Britons,  and  the  tradition  that  a  second  Patrick  rested  there  drew 
thither  the  wandering  scholars  of  Ireland.  The  first  inhabitants  of 
Ine's  abbey  found,  as  they  alleged,  "  an  ancient  church,  built  by  no  art 
of  man  ; "  and  beside  this  relic  of  its  older  Welsh  owners,  Ine  founded 
his  own  abbey-church  of  stone.  The  spiritual  charge  of  his  conquests 
he  committed  to  his  kinsman  Ealdhelm,  the  most  famous  scholar  of 
his  day,  who  became  the  first  bishop  of  the  new  see  of  Sherborne, 
which  the  king  formed  out  of  the  districts  west  of  Selwood  and  the 
Frome,  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  new  parts  of  his  kingdom.  Ine's 
code,  the  earliest  collection  of  West-Saxon  laws  which  remains  to  us, 
shows  a  wise  solicitude  to  provide  for  the  civil  as  well  as  the  eccle- 
siastical needs  of  the  mixed  population  over  which  he  now  ruled.  His 
repulse  <  f  the  Mercians,  when  they  at  last  attacked  Wessex,  proved 
how  well  he  could  provide  for  its  defence.  ^Ethelred's  reign  of  thirty 
years  was  one  of  almost  unbroken  peace,  and  his  activity  mainly 
showed  itself  in  the  planting  and  endowment  of  monasteries,  which 
gradually  changed  the  face  of  the  realm.  Ceolred  however,  who  in  709 
became  king  of  Mercia,  took  up  the  strife  with  Wessex  for  the  over- 
lordship  of  the  south,  and  in  715  he  marched  into  the  very  heart  of 
Wessex  ;  but  he  was  repulsed  in  a  bloody  encounter  at  Wanborough. 
Able  however  as  Ine  was  to  hold  Mercia  at  bay,  he  was  unable  to 
hush  the  civil  strife  that  was  the  curse  of  Wessex,  and  a  wild  legend 
tells  the  story  of  the  disgust  which  drove  him  from  the  world.  He 
had  feasted  royally  at  one  of  his  country  houses,  and  on  the  morrow, 
as  he  rode  from  it,  his  queen  bade  him  turn  back  thither.  The  king 
returned  to  find  his  house  stripped  of  curtains  and  vessels,  and  foul 
with  refuse  and  the  dung  of  cattle,  while  in  the  royal  bed  where  he  had. 


38 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


slept  with  iCthelburh  rested  a  sow  with  her  farrow  of  pigs.  The  scene 
had  no  need  of  the  queen's  comment :  "  See,  my  lord,  how  the  fashion 
of  this  world  passeth  away  !  "  In  726  Ine  laid  down  his  crown,  and 
sought  peace  and  death  in  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome. 

The  anarchy  that  had  driven  Ine  from  the  throne  broke  out  on  his 
departure  in  civil  strife  which  left  Wessex  an  easy  prey  to  the  suc- 
cessor of  Ceolred.  Among  those  who  sought  Guthlac's  retirement  at 
Crowland  came  yEthelbald,  a  son  of  Penda's  brother,  flying  from 
Ceolred's  hate.  Driven  off  again  and  again  by  the  king's  pursuit, 
y^thelbald  still  returned  to  the  little  hut  he  had  built  beside  the 
hermitage,  and  comforted  himself  in  hours  of  despair  with  his  com- 
panion's words.  "  Know  how  to  wait,"  said  Guthlac,  "  and  the  kingdom 
will  come  to  thee  ;  not  by  violence  or  rapine,  but  by  the  hand  of  God." 
In  716  Ceolred  fell  frenzy-smitten  at  his  board,  and  Mercia  chose 
/Ethelbald  for  its  king.  For  the  first  ten  years  of  his  reign  he  shrank 
from  a  conflict  with  the  victor  of  Wanborough;  but  with  I  ne's  withdrawal 
he  took  up  again  the  fierce  struggle  with  Wessex  for  the  complete 
supremacy  of  the  south.  He  penetrated  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
West-Saxon  kingdom,  and  his  siege  and  capture  of  the  royal  town  of 
Somerton  in  733  ended  the  war.  For  twenty  years  the  overlordship 
of  Mercia  was  recognized  by  all  Britain  south  of  the  H umber.  It 
was  at  the  head  of  the  forces,  not  of  Mercia  only,  but  of  East  Anglia 
and  Kent,  as  well  as  of  the  West-Saxons,  that  yEthelbald  marched 
against  the  Welsh  ;  and  he  styled  himself  '*  King  not  of  the  Mercians 
only,  but  of  all  the  neighbouring  peoples  who  are  called  by  the  common 
name  of  Southern  English."  But  the  aim  of  yCthelbald  was  destined 
to  the  same  failure  as  that  of  his  predecessors.  For  twenty  years 
indeed  he  met  the  constant  outbreaks  of  his  new  subjects  with  success  ; 
and  it  was  not  till  754  that  a  general  rising  forced  him  to  call  his  whole 
strength  to  the  field.  At  the  head  of  his  own  Mercians  and  of  the 
subject  hosts  of  Kent,  Essex  and  East  Anglia,  >Ethelbald  marched  to 
the  field  of  Burford,  where  the  West-Saxons  were  again  marshalled 
under  the  golden  dragon  of  their  race  :  but  after  hours  of  desperate 
fighting  in  the  forefront  of  the  battle,  a  sudden  panic  seized  the  Mercian 
king,  and  the  supremacy  of  Mid-Britain  passed  away  for  ever  as  he 
fled  first  of  his  army  from  the  field.  Three  years  later  he  was  surprised 
and  slain  in  a  night  attack  by  his  ealdormen  ;  and  in  the  anarchy  that 
followed,  Kent,  Essex,  and  East  Anglia  threw  off  the  yoke  of  Mercia. 

While  the  two  southern  kingdoms  were  wasting  their  energies  in  this 
desperate  struggle,  Northumbria  had  set  aside  its  efforts  at  conquest  for 
the  pursuits  of  peace.  Under  the  reigns  of  Ecgfrith's  successors,  Aldfrith 
the  Learned  and  the  four  kings  who  followed  him,  the  kingdom  became 
in  the  middle  of  the  eighth  century  the  literary  centre  of  Western  Europe. 
No  schools  were  more  famous  than  those  of  Jarrow  and  York.  The 
whole  learning  of  the  age  seemed  to  be  summed  up  in  a  Northumbriai^ 


^.} 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


39 


scholar.  Baeda^ — the  Venerable  Bede,  as  later  times  styled  him— ^was 
born  in  673,  nine  years  after  the  .Synod  of  Whitby,  on  ground  which 
passed  a  year  later  to  Benedict  Biscop  as  the  site  of  the  great  abbey 
which  he  reared  by  the  mouth  of  the  Wear.  His  youth  was  trained 
and  his  long  tranquil  life  was  wholly  spent  in  an  off-shoot  of  Benedict's 
house  which  was  founded  by  his  friend  Ceolfrid.  Basda  never  stirred 
from  Jarrow.  "  I  have  spent  my  whole  life  in  the  same  monastery," 
he  says,  "  and  while  attentive  to  the  rule  of  my  order  and  the  service 
of  the  Church  my  constant  pleasure  lay  in  learning,  or  teaching,  or 
writing."  The  words  sketch  for  us  a  scholar's  life,  the  more  touching 
in  its  simplicity  that  it  is  the  life  of  the  first  great  English  scholar. 
The  quiet  grandeur  of  a  life  cnsecrated  to  knowledge,  the  tranquil 
pleasure  that  lies  in  learning  and  teaching  and  writing,  dawned  for 
Englishmen  in  the  story  of  Baeda.  While  still  young,  he  became 
teacher  ;  and  six  hundred  monks,  besides  strangers  that  flocked  thither 
for  instruction,  formed  his  school  of  Jarrow.  It  is  hard  to  imagine 
how  among  the  toils  of  the  schoolmaster  and  the  duties  of  the  mon"; 
Basda  could  have  found  time  for  the  composition  of  the  numerous 
works  that  made  his  name  famous  in  the  west.  But  materials  for 
study  had  accumulated  in  Northumbria  through  the  journeys  of 
Wilfrid  and  Benedict  Biscop  and  the  libraries  which  were  forming  at 
Wearmouth  and  York.  The  tradition  of  the  older  Irish  teachers  still 
lingered  to  direct  the  young  scholar  into  that  path  of  Scriptural  inter- 
pretation to  which  he  chiefly  owed  his  fame.  Greek,  a  rare  accom- 
plishment in  the  west,  came  to  him  from  the  school  which  the  Greek 
Archbishop  Theodore  founded  beneath  the  walls  of  Canterbury.  His 
skill  in  the  ecclesiastical  chant  was  derived  from  a  Roman  cantor 
whom  Pope  Vitalian  sent  in  the  train  of  Benedict  Biscop.  Little  by 
little  the  young  scholar  thus  made  himself  master  of  the  whole  range 
of  the  science  of  his  lime  ;  he  became,  as  Burke  rightly  styled  him, 
"  the  father  of  English  learning."  The  tradition  of  the  older  classic 
culture  was  first  revived  for  England  in  his  quotations  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  of  Seneca  and  Cicero,  of  Lucretius  and  Ovid.  Virgil  cast 
over  him  the  same  spell  that  he  cast  over  Dante  ;  verses  fro!n  the 
yEneid  break  his  narratives  of  martyrdoms,  and  the  disciple  ventures 
on  the  track  of  the  great  master  in  a  little  eclogue  descriptive  of  the 
approach  of  spring.  His  work  was  done  with  small  aid  from  others. 
"  I  am  my  own  secretary,"  he  writes  ;  "  I  make  my  own  notes.  I  am 
my  own  librarian."  But  forty-five  works  remained  after  his  death  to 
attest  his  prodigious  industry.  In  his  own  eyes  and  those  of  his  con- 
temporaries the  most  important  among  these  were  the  commentaries 
and  homilies  upon  various  books  of  the  Bible  which  he  had  drawn  from 
the  writings  of  the  Fathers.  But  he  was  far  from  confining  himself  to 
theology.  In  treatises  compiled  as  text-books  for  his  scholars  Baeda 
threw  together  all  that  the  world  had  then  accumulated  in  astronomy 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


TciiAr 


Sec.  IV. 

The  Three 
Kingdoms 

685 

TO 

8fl8 


Death  of 


and  meteorology,  in  physics  and  music,  in  philosophy,  grammar, 
rhetoric,  arithmetic,  medicine.  But  the  encyclopa£dic  character  of  his 
researches  left  him  in  heart  a  simple  Englishman.  He  loved  his  own 
English  tongue  ;  he  was  skilled  in  English  song;  his  last  work  was 
a  translation  into  English  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  and  almost 
the  last  words  that  broke  from  his  lips  were  some  English  rimes 
upon  death. 

But  the  noblest  proof  of  his  love  of  England  lies  in  the  work  which 
immortalizes  his  name.  In  his  "  Ecclesiastical  History  of  the  English 
Nation"  Bseda  became  the  first  English  historian.  .Ml  that  we  really 
know  of  the  century  and  a  half  that  follows  the  landing  of  Augustine 
we  know  from  him.  Wherever  his  own  personal  observation  extended 
the  story  is  told  with  admirable  detail  and  force.  He  is  hardly  less 
full  or  accurate  in  the  portions  which  he  owed  to  his  Kentish  friends, 
Albinus  and  Nothelm.  What  he  owed  to  no  informant  was  his  own 
exquisite  faculty  of  story-telling,  and  yet  no  story  of  his  own  telling 
is  so  touching  as  the  story  of  his  death.  Two  weeks  before  the  Easter 
of  735  the  old  man  was  seized  with  an  extreme  weakness  and  loss  of 
breath.  He  still  preserved,  however,  his  usual  pleasantness  and 
good  humour,  and  in  spite  of  prolonged  sleeplessness  continued  his 
lectures  to  the  pupils  about  him.  Verses  of  liis  own  English  tongue 
broke  from  time  to  time  from  the  master's  lips — rude  rimes  that  told 
how  before  the  "  need-fare,"  Death's  stern  "  must-go,"  none  can  enough 
bethink  him  what  is  to  be  his  doom  for  good  or  ill.  The  tears  of 
Baeda's  scholars  mingled  with  his  song.  "We  never  read  without 
weeping,"  writes  one  of  them.  So  the  days  rolled  on  to  Ascension- 
tide, and  still  master  and  pupils  toiled  at  their  work,  for  Baeda  longed 
to  bring  to  an  end  his  version  of  St.  John's  Gospel  into  the  English 
tongue,  and  his  extracts  from  Bishop  Isidore.  "  I  don't  want  my  boys 
to  read  a  lie,"  he  answered  those  who  would  have  had  him  rest,  '*  or  to 
work  to  no  purpose  after  I  am  gore."  A  few  days  before  Asoension- 
tidc  his  sickness  grew  upon  him,  but  he  spent  the  whole  day  in 
teaching,  only  saying  cheerfully  to  his  scholars,  "  Learn  with  what 
speed  you  may  ;  I  know  not  how  long  I  may  last."  The  dawn  broke 
on  another  sleepless  night,  and  again  the  old  man  called  his  scholars 
round  him  and  bade  them  write.  "  There  is  still  a  chapter  wanting," 
said  the  scribe,  as  the  morning  drew  on,  "and  it  is  hard  for  thee  to 
question  thyself  any  longer."  "  It  is  easily  done,"  said  Baxia  ;  "  take 
thy  pen  and  write  quickly."  Amid  tears  and  farewells  the  day  wore 
away  to  eventide.  "  There  is  yet  one  sentence  unwritten,  dear  master,*' 
said  the  boy.  "Write  it  quickly,"  bade  the  dying  man.  **  It  is 
finished  now,"  jaid  the  little  scribe  at  last.  "  You  speak  truth,"  said 
the  master ;  "  all  is  finished  now."  Placed  upon  the  pavement,  his 
head  supported  in  his  scholars'  arms,  his  face  turned  to  the  spot 
where  he  was  wont  to  pray,  Baeda  chanted  the  solemr    -Glory  to 


IJ 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


41 


God."      As  his  voice  reached  the  close  of  his  song  he  passed  quietly 
away. 

First  among  English  scholars,  first  among  English  theologians,  first 
among  English  historians,  it  is  in  the  monk  of  Jarrow  that  English 
literature  strikes  its  roots.  In  the  six  hundred  scholars  who  gathered 
round  him  for  instruction  he  is  the  father  of  our  national  education. 
In  his  physical  treatises  he  is  the  first  figure  to  which  our  science  looks 
back.  Baeda  was  a  statesman  as  well  as  a  scholar,  and  the  letter  which 
in  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  addressed  to  Ecgberht  of  York  shows 
how  vigorously  he  proposed  to  battle  against  the  growing  anarchy  of 
Northumbria.  But  his  plans  of  reform  came  too  late,  though  a  king 
like  Eadberht,  with  his  brother  Ecgberht,  the  first  Archbishop  of  York, 
might  for  a  time  revive  the  fading  glories  of  his  kingdom.  Eadberht  re- 
pelled an  attack  of  ^thelbald  on  his  southern  border  ;  while  at  the  same 
time  he  carried  on  a  successful  war  against  the  Picts.  Ten  years  later 
he  penetrated  into  Ayrshire,  and  finally  made  an  aUiance  with  the 
Picts,  which  enabled  him  in  756  to  conquer  Strathclyde  and  take  its 
capital  Alcluyd,  or  Dumbarton.  But  at  the  moment  when  his  triumph 
seemed  complete,  his  army  was  utterly  destroyed  as  it  withdrew  home- 
wards, and  so  crushing  was  the  calamity  that  even  Eadberht  could 
only  fling  down  his  sceptre  and  withdraw  with  his  brother  the  Arch- 
bishop to  a  monastery.  From  this  time  the  history  of  Northumbria 
is  only  a  wild  story  of  lawlessness  and  bloodshed.  King  after  king 
was  swept  away  by  treason  and  revolt,  the  country  fell  into  the  hands 
of  its  turbulent  nobles,  the  very  fields  lay  waste,  and  the  land  was 
scourged  by  famine  and  plague.  Isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  country 
during  fifty  years  of  anarchy,  the  northern  realm  hardly  seemed  to  form 
part  of  the  English  people. 

The  work  in  fact  of  national  consolidation  among  the  English 
seemed  to  be  fatally  arrested  The  battle  of  Burford  had  finally 
settled  the  division  of  Britain  into  three  equ  d  powers.  Wessex  was 
now  as  firmly  planted  south  of  the  Thames  as  Northumbria  north  of 
the  Humber.  But  this  crushing  defeat  was  ar  from  hiving  broken  the 
Mercian  power;  and  i  nder  Offa,  whose  reign  from  758  to  796  coveis 
with  that  of  ^thelbald  nearly  the  whole  of  the  eighth  century,  it  rose 
to  a  height  unknown  since  the  days  of  Wulfhere.  Years  however 
had  to  pass  before  the  new  king  could  set  about  the  recovery  of  Kent ; 
and  it  was  only  after  a  war  of  three  years  that  in  775  a  victory  at 
Otford  gave  it  back  to  the  Mercian  realm.  With  Kent  Offa  doubt- 
less recovered  Sussex  and  Surrey,  as  well  as  Essex  and  London  ; 
and  four  years  later  a  victory  at  Bensington  completed  the  con- 
quest of  the  district  that  now  forms  the  shires  of  Oxford  and 
Buckingham.  For  the  nine  years  that  followed  however  Mercia 
ventured  on  no  further  attempt  to  extend  her  power  over  her  English 
neighbours.      Like  her   rivals,  she   turned   on   the   Welsh.     Pushing 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


after  779  over  the  Severn,  whose  upper  course  had  served  till  now  as 
the  frontier  between  Briton  and  Englishman,  Offa  drove  the  King  of 
Powys  from  his  capital,  which  changed  its  old  name  of  Pengwyrn 
for  the  significant  English  title  of  the  Town  in  the  Scrub  or  bush, 
Scrobsbyryg,  or  Shrewsbury.  The  border-line  he  drew  after  his 
inroad  is  marked  by  a  huge  earthwork  which  runs  from  the  mouth  of 
Wye  to  that  of  Dee,  and  is  still  called  Ofifa's  Dyke.  A  settlement  of 
Englishmen  on  the  land  between  this  dyke  and  the  Severn  served  as 
a  military  frontier  for  the  Mercian  realm.  Here,  as  in  the  later 
conquests  of  the  Northumbrians  and  the  West-Saxons,  the  older  plan 
of  driving  off  the  conquered  from  the  soil  was  definitely  abandoned. 
The  Welsh  who  chose  to  remain  dwelt  undisturbed  among  their 
English  conquerors  ;  and  it  was  probably  to  regulate  the  mutual  rela- 
tions of  the  two  races  that  Offa  drew  up  the  code  of  laws  which  bore 
his  name.  In  Mercia  as  in  Northumbri^  attacks  on  the  Britons 
marked  the  close  of  all  dreams  of  supremacy  over  the  English  them- 
selves. Under  Offa  Mercia  sank  into  virtual  isolation.  The  anarchy 
into  which  Northumbria  sank  after  Eadberht's  death  never  tempted 
him  to  cross  the  H umber  ;  nor  was  he  shaken  from  his  inaction  by  as 
tempting  an  opportunity  which  presented  itself  across  the  Thames. 
It  must  have  been  in  the  years  that  followed  the  battle  of  Burford  that 
the  West-Saxons  made  themselves  masters  of  the  shrunken  realm  of 
Dyvnaint,  which  still  retains  its  old  name  in  the  form  of  Devon, 
and  pushed  their  frontier  westward  to  the  Tamar.  But  in  786  their 
progress  was  stayed  by  a  fresh  outbreak  of  anarchy.  The  strife 
between  the  rivals  that  disputed  the  throne  was  ended  by  the 
defeat  of  Ecgberht,  the  heir  of  Ceawlin's  line,  and  his  flight  to 
Offa's  court.*'  The  Mercian  king  however  used  his  presence  not  so 
much  for  schemes  of  aggrandizement  as  to  bring  about  a  peaceful 
alliance  ;  and  in  "89  Ecgberht  was  driven  from  Mercia,  while  Offa 
wedded  his  daughter  to  the  West-Saxon  king  Beorhtric.  The  true 
aim  of  Offa  indeed  was  to  unite  firmly  the  whole  of  Mid-Britain,  with 
Kent  as  its  outlet  towards  Europe,  under  the  Mercian  crown,  and  to 
mark  its  ecclesiastical  as  well  as  its  political  independence  by  the 
formation  in  787  of  an  archbishopric  of  Lichfield,  as  a  check  to  the 
see  of  Canterbury  in  the  south,  and  a  rival  to  the  see  of  York  in  the 
north. 

But  while  Offa  was  hampered  in  his  projects  by  the  dread  of  the 
West  Saxons  at  home,  he  was  forced  to  watch  jealously  a  power 
which  had  risen  to  dangerous  greatness  over  sea,  the  power  of  the 
Franks.  Till  now,  the  interests  of  the  English  people  had  lain  wholly 
within  the  bounds  of  the  Britain  they  had  won.  But  at  this  moment 
our  national  horizon  suddenly  widened,  and  the  fortunes  of  England 
became  linked  to  the  general  fortunes  of  Western  Christendom.  It 
was  by  the  Mork  of  English  missionaries  that  Britain  was  first  drawn 


I.J 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


43 


into  political  relations  with  the  FYankish  court.  The  Northumbrian 
Willibrord,  and  the  more  famous  West-Saxon  Boniface  or  Winfrith, 
followed  in  the  track  of  earlier  preachers,  both  Irish  and  English,  who 
had  been  labouring  among  the  heathens  of  Germany,  and  especially 
among  those  who  had  now  become  subject  to  the  Franks.  The 
Frank  king  Pippin's  connexion  with  the  English  preachers  led  to 
constant  intercourse  with  England  ;  a  Northumbrian  scholar,  Alcuin, 
was  the  centre  of  the  literary  revival  at  his  court.  Pippin's  son 
Charles,  known  in  after  days  as  Charles  the  Great,  maintained  the 
same  interest  in  English  affairs.  His  friendship  with  Alcuin  drew 
him  into  close  relations  with  Northern  Britain.  Ecgberht,  the 
claimant  of  the  West-Saxon  throne,  had  found  a  refuge  with  him 
since  Offa's  league  with  Beorhtric  in  787.  With  Offa  too  his  relations 
seem  to  have  been  generally  friendly.  But  the  Mercian  king  shrank 
cautiously  from  any  connexion  which  might  imply  a  recognition  of 
Frankish  supremacy.  He  had  indeed  good  grounds  for  caution.  The 
costly  gifts  sent  by  Charles  to  the  monasteries  of  England  as  of 
Ireland  showed  his  will  to  obtain  an  influence  in  both  countries  ;  he 
maintained  relations  with  Northumbria,  with  Kent,  with  the  whole 
English  Church.  Above  all,  he  harboured  at  his  court  exiles  from 
every  English  realm,  exihd  kings  from  Northumbria,  East-Anglian 
thegns,  fugitives  from  Mercia  itself ;  and  Ecgberht  probably  marched 
in  his  train  when  the  shouts  of  the  people  and  priesthood  of  Ronie 
hailed  him  as  Roman  Emperor.  When  the  death  of  Beorhtr  c  in  802 
opened  a  way  for  the  exile's  return  to  Wessex,  the  relations  of  Charles 
with  the  English  were  still  guided  by  the  dream  that  Britain,  lost  to 
the  Empire  at  the  hour  when  the  rest  of  the  western  provinces  were 
lost,  should  return  to  the  Empire  now  that  Rome  had  risen  again  to 
more  than  its  old  greatness  in  the  west  ;  and  the  revolutions  which 
were  distracting  the  English  kingdoms  told  steadily  in  his  favour. 

The  years  since  Ecgberht's  flight  had  made  little  change  in  the  state 
of  Britain.  Offa's  completion  of  his  kingdom  by  the  seizure  of  East 
Anglia  had  been  followed  by  his  death  in  796  ;  and  under  his  suc- 
cessor Cenwulf  the  Mercian  archbishopric  was  suppressed,  and  there 
was  no  attempt  to  carry  further  the  supremacy  of  the  Midland  king- 
dom. Cenwulf  stood  silently  by  when  Ecgberht  mounted  the  West- 
Saxon  throne,  and  maintained  peace  with  the  new  ruler  of  Wessex 
throughout  his  reign.  The  first  enterprise  of  Ecgberht  indeed  was  not 
directed  against  his  English  but  his  Welsh  neighbours.  In  815  he 
marched  into  the  heart  of  Cornwall,  and  after  eight  years  of  fighting, 
the  last  fragment  of  British  dominion  in  the  west  came  to  an  end.  As 
a  nation  Britain  had  passed  away  with  the  victories  of  Deorham  and 
Chester  ;  of  the  separate  British  peoples  who  had  still  carried  on 
the  struggle  with  the  three  English  kingdoms,  the  Britons  of  Cumbria 
and  of  Strathclyde  had  already  bowed  to  Northumbrian  rule  ;    the 


Sec.  IV. 

The  Thrbb 

Kingdoms 

685 

TO 

828 


800 


The  Fall 
of  Mercia 


802 


44 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[rUAT. 


The  Three 
Kingdoms 


Britons  of  Wales  had  owned  by  tribute  to  Cffa  the  supremacy  of 
Mercia  ;  the  last  unconquered  British  state  of  West  Wales  as  far  as 
the  Land's  End  now  passed  under  the  mastery  of  Wessex. 

While  Wessex  was  regaining  the  strength  it  had  so  long  lost,  its 
rival  in  Mid-Britain  was  sinking  into  helpless  anarchy.  Within,  Mercia 
was  torn  by  a  civil  war  which  broke  out  on  Cenwulfs  death  in  821  ; 
and  the  weakness  which  this  left  behind  was  seen  when  the  old  strife 
with  Wessex  was  renewed  by  his  successor  Beornwulf,  who  in  825 
penetrated  into  Wiltshire,  and  was  defeated  in  a  bloody  battle  at 
Ellandun.  All  England  south  of  the  Thames  at  once  submitted  to 
Ecgberht  of  Wessex,  and  East  Anglia  rose  in  a  desperate  revolt  which 
proved  fatal  to  its  Mercian  rulers.  Two  of  its  kings  in  succession  fell 
fighting  on  East-Anglian  soil  ;  and  a  third,  Wiglaf,  had  hardly  mounted 
the  Mercian  throne  when  his  exhausted  kingdom  was  called  on  again 
to  encounter  the  West-Saxon.  Ecgberht  saw  that  the  hour  had  come 
for  a  decisive  onset.  In  828  his  army  marched  northward  without  a 
struggle  ;  Wiglaf  fled  helplessly  before  it ;  and  Mercia  bowed  to  the 
West-Saxon  overlordship.  From  Mercia  Ecgberht  marched  on  North- 
umbria  ;  but  half  a  century  of  anarchy  had  robbed  that  kingdom  of  all 
vigour,  and  pirates  were  already  harrying  its  coast ;  its  nobles  met  him 
at  Dore  in  Derbyshire,  and  owned  him  as  their  overlord.  The  work 
that  Oswiu  and  ^Ethelbald  had  failed  to  do  was  done,  and  the  whole 
English  race  in  Britain  was  for  the  first  time  knit  together  under  a 
single  ruler.  Long  and  bitter  as  the  struggle  for  independence  was 
still  to  be  in  Mercia  and  in  the  north,  yet  from  the  moment  that 
Northumbria  bowed  to  its  West- Saxon  overlord,  England  was  made 
in  fact  if  not  as  yet  in  name. 


Section  V.  -'Wessex  and  the  Danes,  802-880, 

[Authorities. — Our  history  here  rests  mainly  on  the  English  (or  An<;lo- Saxon) 
Chronicle.  ITie  earlier  part  of  this  is  a  compilation,  and  consists  of  (i)  Anuals 
of  the  conquest  of  South  Britain,  (2)  Short  notices  of  the  kings  and  bishops  of 
Wessex,  expand  d  into  larger  form  by  copious  insertions  from  Baeda,  and  after 
his  death  by  briefer  additions  from  some  northern  sources.  (3)  It  is  probable 
that  these  materials  were  thrown  together,  and  perhaps  tn>nslate<l  from  Latin 
into  English,  in  A  Ifrcd's  time,  as  a  preface  to  the  far  fuller  annals  which  begin 
with  the  reign  of  >l'llhelwulf,  and  widen  into  a  great  contemporary  history  when 
thty  reach  that  of  /lilfred  himself.  Of  their  character  and  inq>ort  as  a  part  of 
El  glish  literature,  I  have  spoken  in  the  text.  The  "  Life  of  >Elfred  "  which 
bears  the  nnme  of  Asscr  is  jirobably  contemporary,  or  at  any  rate  founded  on 
contemporary  aulhori  y.  There  is  an  admirable  modern  life  of  the  king  by 
Dr.  Pauli.  For  the  Danish  wars,  see  "The  Conquest  of  England"  by  J  R. 
Green.] 

The  effort  after  a  national  sovereignty  had  hardly  been  begun,  when 
the  Dane  struck  down  the  short-lived  greatness  of  Wessex.  While 
Britain  was  passing  through  her  ages  of  conquest  and  settlement,  the 


ENGLAND 

in  the 

NINTH  CENTURY 


M 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


45 


dwellers  in  the  Scandinavian  peninsula  and  the  isles  of  the  Baltic  had 
lain  hidden  from  Christendom,  waging  their  battle  for  existence  with  a 
stern  climate,  a  barren  soil,  and  stormy  seas.  Forays  and  plunder-raids 
over  sea  eked  out  their  scanty  livelihood,  and  as  the  eighth  century 
closed,  these  raids  found  a  wider  sphere  than  the  waters  of  the  north, 
Ecgberht  had  not  yet  brought  all  Britain  under  his  sway  when  the  Wi- 
kings  or  "  creek-men,"  as  the  adventurers  were  called,  were  seen  hover- 
ing off  the  English  coast,  and  growing  in  numbers  and  hardihood  as 
they  crept  southward  to  the  Thames.  The  first  sight  of  the  northmen 
is  as  if  the  hand  on  the  dial  of  history  had  gone  back  three  hundred 
years.  The  Norwegian  fiords,  the  Frisian  sandbanks,  poured  forth 
pirate  fleets  such  as  had  swept  the  seas  in  the  days  of  Hengest  and 
Cerdic  There  was  the  same  wild  panic  as  the  black  boats  of  the 
invaders  struck  inland  along  the  river-reaches,  or  moored  around  the 
river  islets,  the  same  sights  of  horror,  firing  of  homesteads,  slaughter 
of  men,  women  driven  off  to  slavery  or  shame,  children  tossed  on  pikes 
or  sold  in  the  market-place,  as  when  the  English  invaders  attacked 
Britain.  Christian  priests  were  again  slain  at  the  altar  by  worshippers 
of  Woden  ;  letters,  arts,  religion,  government  disappeared  before 
these  northmen  as  before  the  northmen  of  old.  But  when  the  wild 
burst  of  the  storm  was  over,  land,  people,  government  reappeared 
unchanged.  England  still  remained  England  ;  the  conquerors  sank 
quietly  in€b  the  mass  of  those  around  them  ;  and  Woden  yielded 
without  a  struggle  to  Christ.  The  secret  of  this  difiference  between  the 
two  invasions  was  that  the  battle  was  no  longer  between  men  of  differ- 
ent races.  It  was  no  longer  a  fight  between  Briton  and  German, 
between  Englishman  and  Welshman.  The  life  of  these  northern  folk 
was  in  the  main  the  life  of  the  earlier  Englishmen.  Their  customs, 
their  religion,  their  social  order  were  the  same  ;  they  were  in  fact 
kinsmen  bringing  back  to  an  England  that  had  forgotten  its  origins 
the  barbaric  England  of  its  pirate  forefathers.  Nowhere  over  Europe 
was  the  fight  so  fierce,  because  nowhere  else  were  the  combatants 
men  of  one  blood  and  one  speech.  But  just  for  this  reason  the  fusion 
of  the  northmen  with  their  foes  was  nowhere  so  peaceful  and  so 
complete. 

Brit;iin  had  to  meet  a  double  attack  from  its  new  assailants.  The 
northmen  of  Norway  had  struck  westward  to  the  Shetlands  and 
Orkneys,  and  passed  thence  by  the  Hebrides  to  Ireland  ;  while  their 
kinsmen  who  now  dwelt  in  the  old  Engle-land  steered  along  the  coasts 
of  Frisia  and  Gaul.  Shut  in  between  the  two  lines  of  their  advance, 
Britain  lay  in  the  very  centre  of  their  field  of  operations  ;  and  at  the 
close  of  Ecgberht's  reign,  when  the  decisive  struggle  first  began,  their 
attacks  were  directed  to  the  two  extremities  of  the  West-Saxon  realm. 
After  having  harried  East  Anglia  and  slain  in  Kent,  they  swept  up  the 
Thames  to  the  plunder  of  London  ;  while  the  pirates  in  the  Irish 


834-837 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Channel  roused  all  Cornwall  to  revolt.  It  was  in  the  alliance  of  the 
northmen  with  the  liritons  that  the  danger  of  these  earlier  inroads  lay. 
Ecgberht  indeed  defeated  the  united  forces  of  these  two  enemies  in  a 
victory  at  Hengest-dun,  but  an  unequal  struggle  was  carried  on  for 
years  to  come  in  the  Wessex  west  of  Selwood.  Kiug  yEthelwulf,  who 
followed  Ecgberht  in  839,  fought  strenuously  in  the  defence  of  his  realm ; 
in  the  defeat  of  Charmouth,  as  in  the  victory  at  Aclea,  he  led  his  troops 
in  person  against  the  sea-robbers  ;  and  he  drove  back  the  Welsh  of 
North  Wales,  who  were  encouraged  by  the  invaders  to  rise  in  arms. 
Northmen  and  Welshmen  were  beaten  again  and  again,  and  yet  the 
peril  grew  greater  year  by  year.  The  dangers  to  the  Christian  faith 
from  these  heathen  assailants  roused  the  clergy  to  his  aid.  Swithun, 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  became  /Ethelwulfs  minister ;  Ealhstan,  Bishop 
of  Sherborne,  was  among  the  soldiers  of  the  Cross,  and  with  the 
ealdormen  led  the  fyrds  of  Somerset  and  Dorset  to  drive  the  invaders 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Parret.  At  last  hard  fighting  gained  the 
realm  a  little  respite  ;  in  858  yEthelwulf  died  in  peace,  and  for  eight 
years  the  Northmen  left  the  land  in  quiet.  But  these  earlier  forays  had 
been  mere  preludes  to  the  real  burst  of  the  storm.  When  it  broke  in 
its  full  force  upon  tlie  island,  it  was  no  longer  a  series  of  plunder-raids, 
but  the  invasion  of  Britain  by  a  host  of  conquerors  who  settled  as  they 
conquered.  The  work  was  now  taken  up  by  another  people  of  Scan- 
dinavian blood,  the  Danes.  At  the  accession  ofyCthelred,  the  third  of 
yEthclwulfs  sons,  who  had  mounted  the  throne  after  the  short  reigns  of 
his  brothers,  these  new  assailants  fell  on  Britain.  As  they  came  to  the 
front,  the  character  of  the  attack  wholly  changed.  The  petty  squadrons 
which  had  till  now  harassed  the  coast  of  Britain  made  way  for  larger 
hosts  than  had  as  yet  fallen  on  any  country  in  the  west ;  while  raid  and 
foray  were  replaced  by  the  regular  campaign  of  armies  who  marched 
to  conquer,  and  whose  aim  was  to  settle  on  the  land  they  won.  In 
866  the  Danes  landed  in  East  Anglia,  and  marched  in  the  next  spring 
across  the  H  umber  upon  York.  Civil  strife  as  usual  distracted  the 
energies  of  Northumbria.  Its  subject-crown  was  disputed  by  two 
claimants,  and  when  they  united  to  meet  this  common  danger  both  fell 
in  the  same  defeat  before  the  walls  of  their  capital.  Northumbria  at 
once  submitted  to  the  Danes,  and  Mercia  was  only  saved  by  a  hasty 
murch  of  Kingyl'2thelred  to  its  aid.  But  the  Peace  of  Nottingham,  by 
which  /Ethelred  rescued  Mercia  in  868,  left  the  Danes  free  to  turn  to 
the  rich  spoil  of  the  great  abbeys  of  the  Fen.  Peterborough,  Crow- 
land,  Ely,  went  up  in  flames,  and  their  monks  fled  or  were  slain  among 
the  ruins.  From  thence  they  struck  suddenly  for  East  Anglia  itself, 
whose  king,  Eadmund,  brought  prisoner  before  the  Danish  leaders,  was 
bound  to  a  tree  and  shot  to  death  with  arrows.  His  martyrdom  by 
the  heathen  made  him  the  St.  Sebastian  of  English  legend  ;  in  later 
days  his  figure  gleamed  from  the  pictured  windows  of  church  after 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


47 


church  along  the  eastern  coast,  and  the  stately  abbey  of  St.  Edmunds- 
bury  rose  over  his  relics.  With  Eadmund  ended  the  line  of  East 
Anglian  under-kings,  for  his  kingdom  was  not  only  conquered,  but  ten 
years  later  it  was  divided  among  the  soldiers  of  a  Danish  host,  whose 
leader,  Guthrum,  assumed  its  crown.  How  great  was  the  terror  stirred 
by  these  successive  victories  was  shown  in  the  action  of  Mercia,  which, 
though  it  was  as  yet  still  spared  from  actual  conquest,  crouched  in 
terror  before  the  Danes,  acknowledged  them  in  870  as^its  overlords, 
and  paid  them  tribute. 

In  four  years  the  work  of  Ecgberht  had  been  undone,  and  England 
north  of  the  Thames  had  been  torn  from  the  overlordship  of  Wessex. 
So  rapid  a  conquest  as  the  Danish  conquests  of  Northumbria,  Mercia, 
and  East  Anglia,  had  only  been  made  possible  by  the  temper  of  these 
kingdoms  themselves.  To  them  the  conquest  was  simply  their  transfer 
from  one  overlord  to  another,  and  it  would  seem  as  if  they  preferred 
the  lordship  of  the  Dane  to  the  overlordship  of  the  West-Saxon.  It 
was  another  sign  of  the  enormous  difficulty  of  welding  these  kingdoms 
together  into  a  single  people.  The  time  had  now  come  for  Wessex  to 
fight,  not  for  supremacy,  but  for  life.  As  yet  it  seemed  paralyzed  by 
terror.  With  the  exception  of  his  one  march  on  Nottingham,  King 
ylithelred  had  done  nothing  to  save  h's  under-kingdoms  from  the 
vreck.  But  the  Danes  no  sooner  pushed  up  Thames  to  Reading  than 
the  West-Saxons,  attacked  on  their  own  soil, turned  fiercely  at  bay.  The 
enemy  penetrated  indeed  into  the  heart  of  Wessex  as  far  as  the 
heights  that  overlook  the  Vale  of  White  Horse.  A  desperate  battle 
drove  them  back  from  Ashdown  ;  but  their  camp  in  the  tongue  of 
land  between  the  Kennet  and  Thames  proved  impregnable,  and  fresh 
forces  pushed  up  the  Thames  to  join  their  fellows.  In  the  midst  of 
the  struggle  ^thelred  died,  and  left  his  youngest  brother  Alfred  to 
meet  a  fresh  advance  of  the  foe.  They  had  already  encamped  at 
Wilton  before  the  young  king  could  meet  them,  and  a  series  of  defeats 
forced  him  to  buy  the  withdrawal  of  the  pirates  and  win  a  few  years' 
breathing-space  for  his  realm.  It  was  easy  for  the  quick  eye  of  Alfred 
to  see  that  the  Danes  had  withdrawn  simply  with  the  view  of  gaining 
firmer  footing  for  a  new  attack  ;  indeed,  three  years  had  hardly  passed 
before  Mercia  was  invaded,  and  its  under-king  driven  over  sea  to 
ma  e  place  for  a  tributary  of  the  Danes.  From  Repton  half  their 
host  marched  northwards  to  the  Tyne,  dividing  a  land  where  there 
was  little  left  to  plunder,  colonizing  and  tilling  it,  while  Guthrum 
led  the  rest  into  East  Anglia  to  prepare  for  their  next  year's  attack  on 
Wessex.  The  greatness  of  the  contest  had  now  drawn  to  Britain  the 
whole  strength  of  the  northmen  ;  and  it  was  with  a  host  swollen  by 
reinforcements  from  every  quarter  that  Guthrum  at  last  set  sail  for  the 
south.  In  876  the  Danish  fleet  appeared  before  Wareham,  and  when 
a  treaty  with  yElfred   won   their  withdrawal,   they  threw  the.iiselves 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


into  Exeter  and  allied  themselves  with  the  Welsh.  Through  the  winter 
JEUrtd  girded  himself  for  this  new  peril.  At  break  of  spring  his 
army  closed  round  the  town,  while  a  hired  fleet  cruised  off  the  coast 
to  guard  against  rescue.  The  peril  of  their  brethren  in  Exeter  forced 
a  part  of  the  Danish  host  which  had  remained  at  Wareham  to  put  to 
sea  with  the  view  of  aiding  them,  but  they  were  driven  by  a  storm  on 
the  rocks  of  Swanage,  and  Exeter  was  at  last  starved  into  surrender 
while  the  Dapes  again  swore  to  leave  Wessex. 

They  withdrew  in  fact  to  Gloucester,  but  yClfred  had  hardly  dis- 
banded his  troops  when  his  enemies,  roused  by  the  arrival  of  fresh 
hordes  eager  for  plunder,  reappeared  at  Chippenham,  and  at  the 
opening  of  878  marched  ravaging  over  the  land.  The  surprise  was 
complete,  and  for  a  month  or  two  the  general  panic  left  no  hope  of 
resistance.  ^^Ifred,  with  his  small  band  of  followers,  could  only  throw 
himself  into  a  fort  raised  hastily  in  the  isle  of  Athelney,  among  the 
marshes  of  the  Parret.  It  was  a  position  from  which  he  could  watch 
closely  the  movements  of  his  foes,  and  with  the  first  burst  of  spring  he 
called  the  thegns  of  Somerset  to  his  standard,  and  still  gathering  his 
troops  as  he  moved,  marched  through  Wiltshire  on  the  Danes,  He 
found  their  host  at  Edington,  defeated  it  in  a  great  battle,  and  after  a 
siege  of  fourteen  days  forced  them  to  surrender.  Their  leader,  Guthrum, 
was  baptized  as  a  Christian  and  bound  by  a  solemn  peace  or  "  frith  " 
at  Wedmore  in  Somerset.  In  form  the  Peace  of  Wedmore  seemed 
indeed  a  surrender  of  the  bulk  of  Britain  to  its  invaders.  All  North- 
umbria,  all  East  Anglia,  the  half  of  Central  England  was  left  subject  to 
the  northmen.  Throughout  this  Dane-law,  as  it  was  called,  the  con- 
querors settled  down  among  the  conquered  population  as  lords  of  the 
soil,  thickly  in  the  north  and  east,  more  thinly  in  the  central  districts, 
but  everywhere  guarding  jealously  their  old  isolation,  and  gathering  in 
separate  "  heres "  or  armies  round  towns  which  were  only  linked  in 
loose  confederacies.  The  peace  had  in  fact  saved  little  more  than 
Wessex  itself.  But  in  saving  Wessex  it  saved  England.  The  spell  of 
terror  was  broken.  The  tide  of  invasion  was  turned.  Only  one  short 
struggle  broke  a  peace  of  fifteen  years. 

With  the  Peace  of  Wedmore  in  878  began  a  work  even  more  noble 
than  this  deliverance  of  Wessex  from  the  Dane.  "  So  long  as  I  have 
lived,"  wrote  yElfred  in  later  days,  "  I  have  striven  to  live  worthily." 
He  longed  when  death  overtook  him  "  to  leave  to  the  men  that  come 
after  a  remembrance  of  him  in  good  works."  The  aim  has  been  moic 
than  fulfilled.  The  memory  of  the  life  and  doings  of  the  noblest  <•( 
English  rulers  has  come  down  to  us  living  and  distinct  through  the 
misf  of  exaggeration  and  legend  that  gathered  round  it.  Politically  or 
intellectually,  the  sphere  of  /T^lfred's  action  may  seem  too  small  to 
justify  a  comparison  of  him  with  the  few  whom  the  world  claims  as  its 
greatest  men.    What  really  lifts  him  to  their  level  is  the  nkoral  grandrut 


'1 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


49 


of  his  life.  He  lived  solely  for  the  good  of  his  people.  He  is  the  first 
instance  in  the  history  of  Christendom  of  a  ruler  who  put  aside  every 
personal  aim  or  ambition  to  devote  himself  wholly  to  the  welfare  of 
those  whom  he  ruled.  In  his  mouth  "to  live  worthily"  meant  a  life 
of  justice,  temperance,  self-sacrifice.  The  Peace  of  Wedmore  at  once 
marked  the  temper  of  the  man.  Warrior  and  conqueror  as  he  was, 
with  a  disorganized  England  before  him,  he  set  aside  at  thirty  the 
dream  of  conquest  to  leave  behind  him  the  memory  not  of  victories 
but  of  **good  works,"  of  daily  toils  by  which  he  secured  peace,  good 
governmsnt,  education  for  his  people.  His  policy  was  one  of  peace. 
He  abandoned  all  thought  of  the  recovery  of  the  West-Saxon  over- 
lordship.  With  En^'land  across  the  Watling  Street,  a  Roman  road 
which  ran  from  Chester  to  London,  in  other  words  with  Northumbria, 
East-Anglia,  and  the  half  of  Mercia,  Alfred  had  nothing  to  do.  All 
that  he  retained  was  his  own  Wessex,  with  the  upper  part  of  the  valley 
of  the  Thames,  the  whole  valley  of  the  Severn,  and  the  rich  plains  of 
the  Mersey  and  the  Dee.  Over  these  latter  districts,  to  which  the 
name  of  Mercia  was  now  confined,  while  the  rest  of  the  Mercian 
kingdom  became  known  as  the  Five  Boroughs  of  the  Danes,  Alfred 
set  the  ealdorman  ^thelred,  the  husband  of  his  daughter  yEthelflaed,  a 
ruler  well  fitted  by  his  courage  and  activity  to  guard  Wessex  against 
inroads  from  the  north.  Against  invasion  from  the  sea,  he  provided 
by  the  better  organization  of  military  service,  and  by  the  creation  of 
a  fleet.  The  country  was  divided  into  military  districts'  each  five 
hides  sending  an  armed  man  at  the  king's  summons  and  providing 
him  with  food  and  pay.  The  duty  of  every  freeman  to  join  the  host 
remained  binding  as  before  ;  but  the  host  orfyrd  was  divided  into  two 
halves,  each  of  which  took  by  turns  its  service  in  the  field,  while  the 
other  half  guarded  its  own  burhs  and  townships.  To  win  the  sea  was 
a  harder  task  than  to  win  the  land,  and  vElfred  had  not  to  organize, 
but  to  create  a  fleet.  He  steadily  developed  however  his  new  naval 
force,  and  in  the  reign  of  his  son  a  fleet  of  a  hundred  English  ships 
held  the  mastery  of  the  Channel. 

The  defence  of  his  realm  thus  provided  for,  he  devoted  himself  to 
its  good  government.  In  Wessex  itself,  spent  by  years  of  deadly 
struggle,  wiih  law,  order,  the  machinery  of  justice  and  government 
weakened  by  the  pirate  storm,  material  and  moral  civilization  had 
alike  to  be  revived.  His  work  was  of  a  simple  and  practical  order. 
In  politics  as  in  war,  or  in  his  after  dealings  with  letters,  he  took  what 
was  closest  at  hand  and  made  the  best  of  it.  In  the  reorganization  of 
public  justice  his  main  work  was  to  enforce  submission  to  the  justice 
of  hundred-moot  and  shire-moot  alike  on  noble  and  ceorl,  "  who  were 
constantly  at  obstinate  variance  with  one  another  in  the  folk-moots,  so 
that  hardly  any  one  of  them  would  grant  that  to  be  true  doom  that  had 
been  judged  for  doom  by  the  ealdorman  and  reeves."     "  All  the  law 


so 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLK. 


frii/v? 


Sec.  V. 
Wessex 

AND  THE 

Danes 
802 

TO 

880 


iElfred's 
character 


dooms  of  his  land  that  were  given  in  his  absence  he  used  to  keenly 
question,  of  what  sort  they  were,  just  or  unjust;  and  if  he  found  any 
wrongdoing  in  them  he  would  call  the  judges  themselves  before  him." 
"  Day  and  night,"  says  his  biographer,  he  was  busied  in  the  correction 
of  local  injustice  :  "  for  in  that  whole  kir  gdom  the  poor  had  no  helpers, 
or  few,  save  the  king  himself"  Of  a  new  legislation  the  king  had  no 
thought.  **  Those  things  which  I  met  with,"  he  tells  us,  "either  of  the 
days  of  Ine,  my  kinsman,  or  of  Offa,  king  of  the  Mercians,  or  of 
i4ithelberht,  who  first  among  the  English  race  received  baptism,  those 
which  seemed  to  me  rightest,  those  I  have  gathered,  and  r^^jected  the 
others."  But  unpretending  as  the  work  might  seem,  its  importance 
was  great.  With  it  began  the  conception  of  a  national  law.  Thr 
notion  of  separate  systems  of  tribal  customs  for  the  separate  peoples 
passed  away  ;  and  the  codes  of  Wessex,  Mercia,  and  Kent  blended  in 
the  doom-book  of  a  common  England. 

The  new  strength  which  had  been  won  for  Ai]{red's  kingdom 
in  six  years  of  peace  was  shown  when  the  next  pirate  onset  fell 
on  the  land.  A  host  from  Gaul  pushed  up  the  Thames  and  thence 
to  Rochester,  while  the  Danes  of  Guthrum's  kingdom  set  aside  the 
Peace  of  Wedmore  and  gave  help  to  their  brethren.  The  war  how- 
ever was  short,  and  ended  in  victory  so  complete  on  yElfred's  side  that 
in  886  a  new  peace  was  made  which  pushed  the  West-Saxon  frontier 
forward  into  the  realm  of  Guthrum,  and  tore  from  the  Danish  hold 
London  and  half  of  the  old  East-Saxon  kingdom.  From  this  moment 
the  Danes  were  thrown  on  an  attitude  of  defence,  and  the  change  made 
iiself  at  once  felt  among  the  English.  The  foundation  of  a  new  national 
monarchy  was  laid.  *'  All  the  Angel-cyn  turned  to  yElfred,"  says  the 
chronicle,  "  save  those  that  were  under  bondage  to  Danish  men." 
Hardly  had  this  second  breathing-spacebeen  won  than  the  king  turned 
again  to  his  work  of  restoration.  The  spirit  of  adventure  that  made 
him  to  the  last  a  mighty  hunter,  the  reckless  daring  of  his  early  man- 
hood, took  graver  form  in  an  activity  that  found  time  amidst  the  cares 
of  state  for  the  daily  duties  of  religion,  for  converse  with  strangers,  for 
study  and  translation,  for  learning  poems  by  heart,  for  planning  build- 
ings and  instructing  craftsmen  in  gold-work,  for  teaching  even  falconers 
and  dog-keepers  their  business.  But  his  mind  was  far  from  being 
prisoned  within  his  own  island.  He  listened  with  keen  attention  to 
tales  of  far-off  lands,  to  ihe  Norwegian  Othere's  account  of  his 
journey  round  the  North  Cape  to  explore  the  White  Sea,  and  Wulf- 
Stan's  cruise  along  the  coast  of  Esthonia  ;  envoys  bore  his  presents  to 
the  churches  of  India  and  Jerusalem,  and  an  annual  mission  carried 
Peter's-pcnce  to  Rome.  Restless  as  he  was,  his  activity  was  the 
activity  of  a  mind  strictly  practical.  ALUrcd  was  pre-eminently  a  man 
of  business,  careful  of  detail,  laborious  and  methodical.  He  carried  in 
his  bosom  a  little  hand-book  in  which  he  jotted  down  things  as  they 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


51 


struck  him,  now  a  bit  of  family  genealogy,  now  a  prayer,  now  a  story 
such  as  that  of  Bishop  Ealdhelm  singing  sacred  songs  on  the  bridge. 
Each  hour  of  the  king's  day  had  its  peculiar  task  ;  there  was  the  same 
order  in  the  division  of  his  revenue  and  in  the  arrangement  of  his 
court.  But  active  and  busy  as  he  was,  his  temper  remained  simple 
and  kindly.  We  have  few  stories  of  his  life  that  are  more  than  mere 
legends,  but  even  legend  itself  never  ventured  to  depart  from  the  outlines 
of  a  character  whit  h  men  knew  so  well.  During  his  months  of  waiting 
at  Athelney,  while  the  country  was  overrun  by  the  Danes,  he  was  said 
to  have  entered  a  peasant's  hut,  and  to  have  been  bidden  by  the  house- 
wife, who  did  not  recognize  him,  to  turn  the  cakes  which  were  bakmg  on 
the  hearth.  The  young  king  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  in  the  sad 
thoughts  which  came  over  him  he  forgot  his  task,  and  bore  in  amused 
silence  the  scolding  of  the  good  wife,  who  found  her  cakes  spoilt  on 
her  return.  This  tale,  if  nothing  more  than  a  tale,  could  never  have 
been  told  of  a  man  without  humour.  Tradition  told  of  his  genial 
good-nature,  of  his  chattiness  over  the  adventures  of  his  life,  and 
above  all  of  his  love  for  song.  In  his  busiest  days  Alfred  found  time 
to  learn  the  old  songs  of  his  race  by  heart,  and  bade  them  be  taught 
in  the  palace-school.  As  he  translated  the  tales  of  the  heathen  mytho- 
logy he  lingered  fondly  over  and  expanded  them,  and  in  moments  of 
gloom  he  found  comfort  in  the  music  of  the  Psalms. 

Neither  the  wars  nor  the  legislation  of  Alfred  were  destined  to  leave 
such  lasting  traces  upon  England  as  the  impulse  he  gave  to  its  litera- 
ture. His  end  indeed  even  in  this  was  practical  rather  than  literary. 
What  he  aimed  at  was  simply  the  education  of  his  people.  Letters 
and  civilization  had  almost  vanished  in  Great  Britain.  In  VVessex 
itself  learning  had  disappeared.  "  When  I  began  to  reign,"  said 
yElfred,  "  I  cannut  remember  one  south  of  Thames  who  could  explain 
his  service-book  in  English."  The  ruin  the  Danes  had  wrought  had 
been  no  mere  material  ruin.  In  Northumbria  the  Danish  sword  had 
left  but  few  survivors  of  the  school  of  Ecgberht  or  Bseda.  To  remedy 
this  ignorance  /Elfred  desired  that  at  least  every  free-born  youth  who 
possessed  the  means  should  "  abide  at  his  book  till  he  can  well  under- 
stand English  writing."  He  himself  superintended  a  school  which  he 
had  established  for  the  young  nobles  of  his  court.  At  home  he  found 
none  to  help  him  in  his  educational  efforts  but  a  few  prelates  and 
priests  who  remained  in  the  fragment  of  Mercia  which  had  been  saved 
from  the  invaders,  and  a  Welsh  bishop,  Asser.  "  Formerly,"  the  king 
writes  bitterly,  "  men  came  hither  from  foreign  lands  to  seek  for 
instruction,  and  now  when  we  desire  it  we  can  only  obtain  it  from 
abroad."  He  sought  it  among  the  West-Franks  and  the  East-Franks. 
A  scholar  named  Grimbald  came  from  St  Omer  to  preside  over  the 
abbey  he  founded  at  Winchester;  and  John  the  Old-Saxon  was 
fetched,  it  may  be  fron  the  Westphalian  abbey  of  Corbey,  to  rule  a 


52 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


monastery  that  iElfred's  gratitude  for  his  deliverance  from  the  Danes 
raised  in  the  marshes  of  Athelney. 

The  work,  however,  which  most  told  on  English  culture  was  done 
not  by  these  scholars  but  by  the  king  himself.  ^^Ifred  resolved  to 
throw  open  to  his  people  in  their  own  tongue  the  knowledge  which 
had  till  then  been  limited  to  the  clergy.  He  took  his  books  as  he 
found  them  ;  they  were  the  popular  manuals  of  his  age  ;  tbe  compila- 
tion of  Orosius,  then  the  one  accessible  book  of  universal  history,  the 
history  of  his  own  people  by  Baeda,  the  Consolation  of  Boethius,  the 
Pastoral  of  Pope  Gregory.  He  translated  these  works  into  English, 
but  he  was  far  more  than  a  translator,  he  was  an  editor  for  the  people. 
Mere  he  omitted,  there  he  expanded.  He  enriched  Orosius  by  a  sketch 
of  the  new  geographical  discoveries  in  the  north.  He  gave  a  West- 
Saxon  form  to  his  selections  from  Baeda.  In  one  place  he  stops  to 
explain  his  theory  of  government,  his  wish  for  a  thicker  population,  his 
conception  of  national  welfare  as  consisting  in  a  due  balance  of  the 
priest,  the  soldier,  and  the  churl.  The  mention  of  Nero  spurs  him  to 
an  outbreak  on  the  abuses  of  power.  The  cold  Providence  of  Boethius 
gives  way  to  an  enthusiastic  acknowledgement  of  the  goodness  of  God. 
As  yElfred  writes,  his  large-hearted  nature  flings  off  its  royal  mantle, 
and  he  tal'cs  as  a  man  to  men.  "  Do  not  blame  me,"  he  prays  with  a 
charming  simplicity,  "if  any  know  Latin  better  than  I,  for  every  man 
must  say  what  he  says  and  do  what  he  does  according  to  his  ability." 
But  simple  as  was  his  aim,  i^lfred  created  English  literature.  Before 
him,  England  possessed  noble  poems  in  the  work  of  Ca^dmon,  and 
his  fellow-singers,  and  a  train  of  ballads  and  battle-songs.  Prose  she 
had  none.  The  mighty  roll  of  the  books  that  fill  her  libraries  begins 
with  the  translations  of  -Alfred,  and  above  all  with  the  chronicle  of 
his  reign.  It  seems  likely  that  the  king's  rendering  of  Baeda's  his- 
tory gave  the  first  impulse  towards  the  compilation  of  what  is  known 
as  the  English  or  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  which  was  certainly  thrown 
into  its  present  form  during  his  reign.  The  meagre  lists  of  the  kings 
of  Wessex  and  of  the  bishops  of  Winchester,  which  had  been  preserved 
from  older  times,  were  roughly  expanded  into  a  national  history  by 
insertions  from  Baeda  ;  but  it  is  when  it  reaches  the  reign  of  /Elfred 
that  the  Chronicle  suddenly  widens  into  the  vigorous  narrative,  full  of 
life  and  originality,  that  marks  the  gift  of  a  new  power  to  the  English 
tongue.  Varying  as  it  does  from  age  to  age  in  historic  value,  it  re- 
mains the  first  vernacular  history  of  any  Teutonic  people,  the  earliest 
and  most  venerable  monument  of  Teutonic  prose.  The  writer  of 
English  history  may  be  pardoned  if  he  lingers  too  fondly  over  the 
figure  of  the  king  in  whose  court,  at  whose  impulse,  it  maybe  in  whose 
very  words,  English  history  begins. 


I] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


5? 


Section  VI.— The  West-Saxon  Realm,  893— 1013. 

[Auihonties. — Mainly  the  English  Chronicle,  which  varies  much  during  this 
period.  Through  the  reign  of  Eadward  it  is  copious,  and  a  Mercian  chronicle 
is  embedded  in  it  ;  its  entries  then  become  scanty,  and  are  broken  with  grand 
English  songs  till  the  reign  of  ^thelred,  when  its  fulness  returns.  "  Florence 
of  Worcester  "  is  probably  a  translation  of  a  copy  of  the  Chronicle  now  lost. 
The  "  Laws  "  form  the  basis  of  our  constitutional  knowledge  of  the  time,  and 
fall  into  two  cla'^ses.  Those  of  Eadward,  ^thelstan,  Eadmund,  and  Eadgar 
are,  like  the  earlier  laws  of  yEthelberht  and  Ine,  "mainly  of  the  nature  of 
amendments  of  custom."  Those  of  Alfred,  y^thelred,  Cnut,  with  those  that 
hear  the  name  of  Eadward  the  Confessor,  "aspire  to  the  character  of  codes." 
All  are  printed  in  Mr.  Thorpe's  '*  Ancient  Laws  and  Institutes  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxons;"  but  the  extracts  given  by  Dr.  Stubbs  ("Select  Charters,"  pp. 
59 — 74)  contain  all  that  directly  bears  on  our  constitution.  Mr.  Kemble's 
"Codex  Diplomaticus  Mv\  Saxonici  "  contains  a  vast  mass  of  charters,  &c., 
belonging  to  this  period.  The  lives  of  Dunstan  are  collected  by  Dr.  Stubbs 
in  one  of  the  Rolls  volumes.  For  this  period  see  also  Mr.  Green's 
"Conquest  of  England."] 

Alfred's  work  of  peace  was  however  to  be  once  more  interrupted  by  a 
new  invasion  which  in  893  broke  under  the  Danish  leader  Hasting  upon 
England,  /fter  a  year's  fruitless  struggle  to  force  the  strong  position 
in  which  Alfred  covered  Wessex,  the  Danish  forces  left  their  fastnesses 
in  the  Andredsweald  and  crossed  the  Thames,  while  a  rising  of  the 
Danelaw  in  their  aid  revealed  the  secret  of  this  movement.  Followed 
by  the  Londoners,  the  king's  son  Eadward  and  the  Mercian  Ealdor- 
man  ^tthelred  stormed  the  Danish  camp  in  Essex,  followed  the  host 
as  it  rode  along  Thames  to  rouse  new  revolts  in  Wales,  caught  it  on 
the  Severn,  and  defeating  it  with  a  great  slaughter,  drove  it  back  to  its 
old  quarters  in  Essex.  Alfred  himself  held  Exeter  against  attack 
from  a  pirate  fleet  and  their  West- Welsh  allies  ;  and  when  Hasting 
once  more  repeated  his  dash  upon  the  west  and  occupied  Chester, 
Et'ielred  drove  him  from  his  hold  and  forced  him  to  fall  back  to  his 
<:;imp  on  the  Lea.  Here  yElfred  came  to  his  lieutenant's  aid,  and  the 
capture  of  the  Danish  ships  by  the  two  forts  with  which  the  king 
barred  the  river  virtually  encj^d  .the  war.  The  Danes  streamed  back 
from  Wales,  whither  they  had  retreated,  to  their  old  quarters  in 
Frankland,  and  the  new  English  fleet  drove  the  freebooters  from  the 
Channel. 

The  last  years  of  Alfred's  life  seem  to  have  been  busied  in  providing 
a  new  defence  for  his  realm  by  the  formation  of  alliances  with  states 
whom  a  common  intereot  drew  together  against  the  pirates.  But  four 
years  had  hardly  passed  since  the  victory  over  Hasting  when  his  death 
left  the  kingdom  to  his  son  Eadward.  Eadward,  though  a  vigorous 
and  active  ruler,  clung  to  his  father's  policy  of  rest.  It  was  not  till 
910  that  a  rising  of  the  Danes  on  his  northern  frontier,  and  an  attack 


54 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP, 


of  a  pirate  fleet  on  the  southern  coast,  forced  him  to  re-open  the  war. 
With  his  sister  yEthelfla^d,  who  was  in  912  left  sole  ruler  of  Mercia  by 
the  death  of  the  Ealdorman  ^thelred,  he  undertook  the  systematic 
reduction  of  the  Danelaw.  While  he  bridled  East  Anglia  by  the  seizure 
of  southern  Essex,  and  the  erection  of  the  forts  of  Hertford  and 
Witham,  the  fame  of  Mercia  was  safe  in  the  hands  of  its  "  Lady." 
yEthelflaed  girded  her  strength  for  the  conquest  of  the  "  Five  Boroughs," 
the  rude  Danish  confederacy  which  had  taken  the  place  of  the  eastern 
half  of  the  older  Mercian  kingdom.  Derby  represented  the  original 
Mercia  on  the  upper  Trent,  Lincoln  the  Lindiswaras,  Leicester  the 
Middle-English,  Stamford  the  province  of  the  Gyrwas — the  marshmen 
of  the  Fens— Nottingham  probably  that  of  the  Southumbrians.  Each 
of  the  "  Five  Boroughs  "  seems  to  have  been  ruled  by  its  earl  with  his 
separate  "  host  ;  "  within  each  twelve  "lawmen  "  administered  Danish 
law,  while  a  common  justice-court  existed  for  the  whole  confe  leracy. 
In  her  attack  upon  this  powerful  league  yEthelfla^d  abandoned  the 
older  strategy  of  battle  and  raid  for  that  of  siege  and  fortress-building. 
Advancing  along  the  line  of  Trent,  she  fortified  Tam worth  and  Stafford 
on  its  head-waters,  then  turning  southward  secured  the  valley  of  the 
Avon  by  a  fort  at  Warwick.  With  the  lines  of  the  great  rivers  alike 
secure,  and  the  approaches  to  Wales  on  either  side  of  Arden  in  her 
hands,  she  in  917  closed  on  Derby.  The  raids  of  the  Danes  of 
Middle-England  failed  to  draw  the  Lady  of  Mercia  from  her  prey  ; 
and  Derby  was  hardly  her  own  when,  turning  southward,  she  forced 
the  surrender  of  Leicester. 

/Flthelflaed  died  in  the  midst  of  her  triumphs,  and  Eadward  at  once 
annexed  Mercia  to  Wessex.  The  brilliancy  of  her  exploits  had 
already  been  matched  by  his  own  successes  as  he  closed  in  on  the 
district  of  the  Five  I^oroughs  from  the  south.  South  of  the  Middle- 
English  and  the  Fens  lay  a  tract  watered  by  the  Ouse  and  the  Nen— 
originally  the  district  of  a  tribe  known  as  the  South-English,  and  now, 
like  the  Five  lioroughs  of  the  north,  grouped  round  the  towns  of  Bed- 
ford, Himtingdon,  and  Northampton.  The  reduction  of  these  was 
followed  by  that  of  East  Anglia;  the  Danes  of  the  Fens  submitted 
with  Stamford,  the  Southumbrians  with  Nottingham.  Lincoln,  the 
last  of  the  Five  Boroughs  as  yet  unconquered,  no  doubt  submitted  at  the 
same  time.  From  Midliritain  the  king  advanced  cautiously  to  an 
attack  on  Northumbria.  He  had  already  seized  Manchester,  and  was 
preparing  to  complete  his  conquests,  when  the  whole  of  the  North  sud- 
denly laid  itself  at  his  feet.  Not  merely  Northumbria  but  the  Scots 
and  the  Britons  of  Strathclyde  **  chose  him  to  father  and  lord."  The 
submission  had  probably  been  brought  about,  like  that  of  the  North- 
Welsh  to  yi^lfred,  by  the  pressure  of  mutual  feuds,  and  it  was  as  value- 
less as  theirs.  Within  a  year  after  Eadward's  death  the  north  was 
again  on  fire,     y^lthelstan,  /lillfred's  golden- haired  grandson  whom  the 


1.7 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


55 


King  had  girded  as  a  child  with  a  sword  set  in  a  golden  scabbard  and 
a  gem-studded  belt,  incorporated  Northumbria  with  his  dominions  ; 
then  turning  westward  broke  a  league  which  had  been  formed  between 
the  North-Welsh  and  the  Scots,  forced  them  to  pay  annual  tribute,  to 
march  in  his  armies,  and  to  attend  his  councils.  The  West -Welsh  of 
Cornwall  were  reduced  to  a  like  vassalage,  and  the  Britons  driven 
from  Exeter,  which  they  had  shared  till  then  with  its  English  in- 
habitants. A  league  of  the  Scot  King,  Constantine  with  the  Irish 
Ostmen  was  punished  by  an  army  which  wasted  his  kingdom,  while  a 
fleet  ravaged  its  coasts.  But  the  revolt  only  heralded  the  formidable 
confederacy  in  which  Scotland,  Cumberland, and  the  British  and  Danish 
chiefs  of  the  west  and  east  rose  at  the  appearance  of  the  fleet  of  Olaf  in 
the  Humber.  The  king's  victory  at  Brunanburh,  sung  in  noblest  war- 
song,  seemed  the  wreck  of  Danish  hopes,  but  the  work  of  conquest  was 
still  to  be  done.  On  yEthelstan's  death  and  the  accession  of  his  young 
brother  Eadmund,  the  Danelaw  rose  again  in  revolt ;  the  men  of  the 
Five  Boroughs  joined  their  kinsmen  in  N  orthumbria,  and  a  peace  which 
was  negotiated  by  the  two  archbishops,  Odo  and  Wulfstan,  practically 
restored  the  old  balance  of  Alfred's  day,  and  re-established  Watling 
Street  as  the  boundary  between  Wessex  and  the  Danes.  Eadmund 
however  possessed  the  political  and  military  ability  of  his  house.  The 
Danelaw  was  once  more  reduced  to  submission  ;  he  seized  on  an 
alliance  with  the  Scots  as  a  balance  to  the  Danes,  and  secured  the  aid 
of  their  king  by  investing  him  with  the  fief  of  Cumberland.  But  his 
triumphs  were  suddenly  cut  short  by  his  death.  As  the  king  feasted 
at  Pucklechurch  a  robber,  Leofa,  whom  he  had  banished,  seated  him- 
self at  the  royal  board,  and  drew  his  sword  on  the  cupbearer  who  bade 
him  retire.  Eadmund,  springing  to  his  thegn's  aid,  seized  the  robber 
by  his  hair  and  flung  him  to  the  ground,  but  Leofa  had  stabbed  the 
king  ere  rescue  could  arrive. 

The  completion  of  the  West-Saxon  realm  was  in  fact  reserved  for 
the  hands,  not  of  a  king  or  warrior,  but  of  a  priest.  With  the  death  of 
Eadmund  a  new  figure  comes  to  the  front  in  English  affairs.  Dunstan 
stands  first  in  the  line  of  ecclesiastical  statesmen  who  counted  among 
them  Lanfranc  and  Wolsey,  and  ended  in  Laud.  He  is  still  more  re- 
markable in  himself,  in  his  own  vivid  personality  after  nine  centuries 
of  revolution  and  change.  He  was  born  in  the  little  hamlet  of  Glaston- 
bury, beside  Ine's  church  ;  his  father,  Heorstan,  was  a  man  of  wealth 
and  kinsman  of  three  bishops  of  the  time  and  of  many  thegns  of  the 
court.  It  must  have  been  in  his  father's  hall  that  the  fair  diminutive 
boy,  with  his  scant  but  beautiful  hair,  caught  his  love  for  "the  vain 
songs  of  ancient  heathendom,  the  trifling  legends,  the  funeral 
chants,"  which  afterwards  roused  against  him  the  charge  of  sorcery. 
Thence  too  he  may  have  derived  his  passionate  love  of  music,  and 
his  custom  of  carrying  his  harp  in  hand  on  journey  or  visit.     The 


56 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


wandering  scholars  of  Ireland  left  their  books  in  the  monastery  of 
Glastonbury,  as  they  left  them  along  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  ;  and 
Dunstan  plunged  into  the  study  of  sacred  and  profane  letters  till  his 
brain  broke  down  in  delirium.  His  knowledge  became  famous  in  the 
neighbourhood  and  reached  the  court  of  ^^thelstan,  but  his  appear- 
ance there  was  the  signal  for  a  burst  of  ill-will  among  the  courtiers, 
though  many  of  them  were  kinsmen  of  his  own,  and  he  was  forced  to 
withdraw.  Even  when  Eadmund  recalled  him  to  the  court,  his  rivals 
drove  him  from  the  king's  train,  threw  him  from  his  horse  as  he  passed 
through  the  marshes,  and  with  the  wild  passion  of  their  age  trampled 
him  underfoot  in  the  mire.  The  outrage  ended  in  fever,  and  in  the 
bitterness  of  his  disappointment  and  shame  Dunstan  rose  from  his 
sick  bed  a  mon'  .  But  in  England  at  this  time  the  monastic  profes- 
sion seems  to  have  been  little  more  than  a  vow  of  celibacy,  and  his 
devotion  took  no  ascetic  turn.  His  nature  was  sunny,  versatile, 
artistic,  full  of  strong  affections  and  capable  of  inspiring  others  with 
affections  as  strong.  Quick-witted,  of  tenacious  memory,  a  ready  and 
fluent  speaker,  gay  and  genial  in  address,  an  artist,  a  musician,  he  was 
at  the  same  time  an  indefatigable  worker,  busy  at  books,  at  building, 
at  handicraft.  Throughout  his  life  he  won  the  love  of  women  ;  he  now 
became  the  spiritual  guide  of  a  woman  of  high  rank,  who  lived  only 
for  charity  and  the  entertainment  of  pilgrims.  "  He  ever  clave  to  her, 
and  loved  her  in  wondrous  fashion."  His  sphere  of  activity  widened 
as  the  wealth  of  his  devotee  was  placed  unreservedly  at  his  command  ; 
we  see  him  followed  by  a  train  of  pupils,  busy  with  literature,  writing, 
harping,  painting,  designing.  One  morning  a  lady  summons  him  to 
her  house  to  design  a  robe  which  she  is  embroidering.  As  he  bends 
with  her  maidens  over  their  toil,  his  harp  hung  upon  the  wall  sounds 
without  mortal  touch  tones  which  the  startled  ears  around  frame  into 
a  joyous  antiphon.  The  tie  which  bound  him  to  this  scholar-life  was 
broken  by  the  death  of  his  patroness  ;  and  towards  the  close  of 
Eadmund's  reign  Dunstan  was  again  called  to  the  court.  But  the  old 
jealousies  revived,  and  counting  the  game  lost  he  prepared  again  to 
withdraw.  The  King  had  spent  the  day  in  the  chase  ;  the  red  deer 
which  he  was  pursuing  dashed  over  Cheddar  cliffs,  and  his  horse  only 
checked  itself  on  the  brink  of  the  ravine  while  Eadmund  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  death  was  repenting  of  his  injustice  to  Dunstan.  He  was  at 
once  summoned  on  the  King's  return.  "Saddle  your  horse,"  said 
Eadmund,  "  and  ride  with  me  ! "  The  royal  train  swept  over  the 
marshes  to  Dunstan's  home  ;  and  greeting  him  with  the  kiss  of  peace, 
the  king  seated  him  in  the  priestly  chair  as  Abbot  of  Glastonbury. 

From  that  moment  Dunstan  may  have  exercised  influence  on  public 
affairs  ;  but  it  was  not  till  the  accession  of  Eadred,  Eadmund's  brother, 
that  his  influence  became  supreme  as  leading  counsellor  of  the  crown. 
We  may  trace  his  hand  in  the  solemn  proclamation  of  the  king's 


Ij 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


57 


crowning.  Eadred's  election  was  the  first  national  election  where 
Briton,  Dane,  and  Englishman  were  alike  represented  ;  his  coronation 
was  the  first  national  coronation,  the  first  union  of  the  primate  of  the 
north  and  the  primate  of  the  south  in  setting  the  crown  on  the 
head  of  one  who  was  to  rule  from  the  Forth  to  the  Channel.  A 
revolt  of  the  north  two  years  later  was  subdued  ;  at  the  outbreak  of  a 
fresh  rising  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Wulfstan,  was  thrown  into  prison  ; 
and  with  the  submission  of  the  Danelaw  in  954  the  long  work  of 
yElfred's  house  was  done.  Dogged  as  his  fight  had  been,  the  Dane  at 
last  owned  himself  beaten.  From  the  moment  of  Eadred's  final 
triumph  all  resistance  came  to  an  end.  The  north  was  finally 
brought  into  the  general  organization  of  the  English  realm,  and  the 
Northumbrian  under-kingdom  sank  into  an  earldom  under  Oswulf. 
The  new  mi  .;ht  of  the  royal  power  was  expressed  in  the  lofty  titles 
assumed  by  Eadred  ;  he  was  not  only  "  King  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,'' 
but  "  Cassar  of  the  whole  of  Britain." 

The  death  of  Eadred  however  was  a  signal  for  the  outbreak  of 
political  strife.  The  boy-king  Eadwig  was  s\yayed  by  a  woman  of 
high  lineage,  ^thelgifu  ;  and  the  quarrel  between  her  and  the  older 
counsellors  of  Eadred  broke  into  o[)en  strife  at  the  coronation  feast. 
On  the  young  king's  insolent  withdrawal  to  her  chamber  Dunstan,  at 
the  bidding  of  the  Witan,  drew  him  roughly  back  to  the  hall.  But 
before  the  year  was  over  the  wrath  01  the  boy-king  drove  the  abbot 
over  sea,  and  his  whole  system  went  with  him.  The  triumph  of 
-^thelgifu  was  crowned  in  957  by  the  marriage  of  her  daughter  to  the 
king.  The  marriage  was  uncanonical,  and  at  the  opening  of  958 
Archbishop  Odo  parted  the  king  from  his  wife  by  solemn  sentence  ; 
while  the  Mercians  and  Northumbrians  rose  in  revolt,  proclaimed 
Eadwig's  brother  Eadgar  their  king,  and  recalled  Dunstan,  who 
received  successively  the  sees  of  Worcester  and  of  London.  The 
death  of  Eadwig  restored  the  unity  of  the  realm,  Wessex  submitted 
to  the  king  who  had  been  already  accepted  by  the  nr  rth,  and  Dunstan, 
now  raised  to  the  see  of  Canterbury,  wielded  for  sixteen  years  as  the 
minister  of  Eadgar  the  secular  and  ecclesiastical  powers  of  the  realm 
Never  had  England  seemed  so  strong  or  so  peaceful.  Without,  a 
fleet  cruising  round  the  coast  swept  the  sea  of  pirates  ;  the  Danes  of 
Ireland  had  turned  from  foes  to  friends ;  eight  vassal  kings  rowed 
Eadgar  (so  ran  the  legend)  in  his  boat  on  the  Dee.  The  settlement  of 
the  north  indicated  the  large  and  statesmanlike  course  which  Dunstan 
was  to  pursue  in  the  general  administration  of  the  realm.  He  seems 
to  have  adopted  from  the  beginning  a  national  rather  than  a  West- 
Saxon  policy.  The  later  charge  against  his  rule,  that  he  gave  too 
much  power  to  the  Dane  and  too  much  love  to  strangers,  is  the  best 
proof  of  the  unprovincial  temper  of  his  administration.  He  employed 
Danes  in  the  royal  service  and  promoted  them  to  high  posts  in  Church 


58' 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fcHAP 


and  State.  In  the  code  which  he  promulgated  he  expressly  reserved 
to  the  north  its  old  Danish  rights,  "  with  as  good  laws  as  they  best 
might  choose."  His  stern  hand  restored  justice  and  order,  while  his 
care  for  commerce  was  shown  in  the  laws  which  regulated  the  coinage 
and  the  enactments  of  common  weights  and  measures  for  the  realm. 
Thanet  was  ravaged  when  the  wreckers  of  its  coast  plundered  a  trading 
ship  from  York.  Commerce  sprang  into  a  wider  life.  "  Men  of  the 
Empire,"  traders  of  Lower  Lorraine  and  the  Rhine-land,  "men  of 
Rouen,"  were  seen  in  the  streets  of  London,  and  it  was  by  the  foreign 
trade  which  sprang  up  in  Dunstan's  time  that  London  rose  to  the 
commercial  greatness  it  has  held  ever  since.  But  the  aims  of  the 
primate-minister  reached  beyond  this  outer  revival  of  prosperity  and 
good  government.  The  Danish  wars  had  dealt  rudely  with  ylillfred's 
hopes ;  his  educational  movement  had  ceased  with  his  death,  the 
clergy  had  sunk  back  into  worldliness  and  ignorance,  not  a  single 
book  or  translation  had  been  added  to  those  which  the  king  had  left. 
Dunstan  resumed  the  task,  if  not  in  the  larf;er  spirit  of  yElfred,  at 
least  in  the  spirit  of  a  great  administrator.  The  reform  of  monasticism 
which  had  begun  in  the  abbey  of  Cluny  was  stirring  the  zeal  of 
English  churchmen,  and  Eadgar  showed  himself  zealous  in  the  cause 
of  introducing  it  into  England.  With  his  support,  yluhelwold.  Bishop 
of  Winchester,  carried  the  new  Benedictinism  into  his  diocese,  and 
a  few  years  later  Oswald,  liishop  of  Worcester,  brought  monks  into 
his  own  cathedral  city.  Tradition  ascribed  to  Eadgar  the  formation 
of  forty  monasteries,  and  it  was  to  his  time  that  English  monasticism 
looked  back  in  later  days  as  the  beginning  of  its  continuous  life- 
liut  after  all  his  efforts,  monasteries  were  in  fact  only  firmly  planteci 
in  Wessex  and  East  Anglia,  and  the  system  took  no  hold  in  North- 
umbria  or  in  the  bulk  of  Mercia.  Dunstan  himself  took  little  part 
in  it,  though  his  influence  was  strongly  felt  in  the  literary  revival 
which  accompanied  the  revival  of  religious  activity.  1  le  himself  while 
abbot  was  famous  as  a  teacher.  His  great  assistant  /tthclwold  raised 
Abingdon  into  a  school  second  only  to  Glastonbury.  His  other  great 
helper,  Oswald,  laid  the  first  foundations  of  the  historic  school  of 
Worcester.  Abbo,  the  most  notable  scholar  in  (]aul,  came  from 
Fleury  at  the  |)rimate's  invitation. 

After  times  looked  back  fondly  to  "  Eadg.ir's  Law,"  as  it  was  called, 
in  other  words  to  the  English  Constitution  as  it  shaped  itself  in  the 
hands  of  Eadgar's  minister.  A  number  of  influences  had  greatly 
modified  the  older  order  which  had  followed  on  the  English  con- 
quest. Slavery  was  gradually  disappearing  before  the  efforts  of  the 
Church.  Theodore  had  denied  Christian  burial  to  the  kidnapper,  and 
prohibited  the  sale  of  children  by  their  parents,  after  the  age  of  seven. 
Ecgberht  of  York  punished  any  sale  of  child  or  kinsfolk  with  excom- 
munication.      The  murder  of  a  slave  by  lord  or  mistress,  though  no 


I.J 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


59 


crime  in  the  eye  of  the  State,  became  a  sin  for  which  penance  was  due 
to  the  Church.  The  slave  was  exempted  from  toil  on  Sundays  and 
holydays  ;  here  and  there  he  became  attached  to  the  soil  and  could 
only  be  sold  with  it ;  sometimes  he  acquired  a  plot  of  ground,  and  was 
suffered  to  purchase  his  own  release,  ^thelstan  gave  the  slave-class 
a  new  rank  in  the  realm  by  extending  to  it  the  same  principles  of 
mutual  responsibility  for  crime  which  were  the  basis  of  order  among 
the  free.  The  Church  was  far  from  contenting  herself  with  this  gradual 
elevation  ;  Wilfrid  led  the  way  in  the  work  of  emancipation  by  freeing 
two  hundred  and  fifty  serfs  whom  he  found  attached  to  his  estate  at 
Selsey.  Manumission  became  frequent  in  wills,  as  the  clergy  taught 
that  such  a  gift  was  a  boon  to  the  soul  of  the  dead.  At  the  Synod  of 
Chelsea  the  bishops  bound  themselves  to  free  at  their  decease  all  serfs 
on  their  estates  who  had  been  reduced  to  serfdom  by  want  or  crime. 
Usually  the  slave  was  set  free  before  the  altar  or  in  the  church-porch, 
and  the  Gospel-book  bore  written  on  its  margins  the  record  of  his 
emancipation.  Sometimes  his  lord  placed  him  at  the  spot  where  four 
roads  met,  and  bade  him  go  whither  he  would  In  the  more  solemn 
form  of  the  law  his  master  took  him  by  the  hand  in  full  shire-meeting, 
showed  him  open  road  and  door,  and  gave  him  the  lance  and  sword  of 
the  freeman.  The  slave-trade  from  English  ports  was  prohibited  by 
law,  but  the  prohibition  long  remained  ineffective.  A  hundred  years 
later  than  Dunstan  the  wealth  of  English  nobles  was  said  sometimes  to 
spring  from  breeding  slaves  for  the  market.  It  was  not  till  the  reign 
of  the  first  Norman  king  that  the  preaching  of  Wulfstan  and  the  in- 
fluence of  Lanfranc  suppressed  the  trade  in  its  last  stronghold,  the 
port  of  Bristol. 

But  the  decrease  of  slavery  went  on  side  by  side  with  an  increasing 
degradation  of  the  bulk  of  the  people.  Political  and  social  changes 
had  long  been  modifying  the  whole  structure  of  society  ;  and  the  very 
foundations  of  the  old  order  were  broken  up  in  the  degradation  of  the 
freeman,  and  the  upgrowth  of  the  lord  with  his  dependent  villeins. 
The  political  changes  which  were  annihilating  the  older  English  liberty 
were  in  great  measure  due  to  a  change  in  the  character  of  English 
kingship.  As  the  lesser  English  kingdoms  had  drawn  together,  the 
wider  dominion  of  the  King  had  removed  him  further  and  further  from 
his  people,  and  clothed  him  with  a  mysterious  dignity.  Every  reign 
raised  him  higher  in  the  social  scale.  The  bishop,  once  ranked  his 
equal  in  value  of  life,  sank  to  the  level  of  the  ealdorman.  The  ealdor- 
man  himself,  once  the  hereditary  ruler  of  a  smaller  state,  became  a 
mere  delegate  of  the  king,  with  an  authority  curtailed  in  every  shire 
by  that  of  the  royal  reeves — officers  despatched  to  levy  the  royal 
revenues  and  administer  the  royal  justice.  Religion  deepened  the 
sense  of  awe.  The  king,  if  he  was  no  longer  sacred  as  the  son  of 
Woden,  was  yet  more  sacred  as  "  the  Lord's  Anointed  "  ;  and  treason 


.Sec.  VI. 
The  West- 

S.vXflN 

Realm 

a93 

TO 

1013 


The  lal  dT 
Kiugdom 


6o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


rcH«»» 


against  him  became  the  worst  of  crimes.  The  older  nobility  of  blood 
died  out  before  the  new  nobility  of  the  court.  From  the  oldest 
times  of  Germanic  history  ea.h  chief  or  king  had  his  war-band,  his 
comrades,  warriors  bound  personally  to  him  by  their  free  choice,  sworn 
to  fight  for  him  to  the  death,  and  avenge  his  cause  as  their  own. 
When  Cynewulf  of  Wessex  was  foully  slain  at  Merton  his  comrades 
"  ran  at  once  to  the  spot,  each  as  he  was  ready  and  as  fast  as  he 
could,"  and  despising  all  offers  of  life,  fell  fighting  over  the  corpse  of 
their  lord.  The  fidelity  of  the  war-band  was  rewarded  with  grants  from 
the  royal  domain  ;  the  king  became  their  lord  or  hlaford, "  the  disjienser 
of  gifts ; "  the  comrade  became  his  "  servant "  or  thegn.  Personal  service 
at  his  court  was  held  not  to  degrade  but  to  ennoble.  "  Cup-thegn,"  and 
"  horse-thegn,"  and  "  hordere,"  or  treasurer,  became  great  officers  of 
state.  The  thegn  advanced  with  the  advance  of  the  king.  He  absorbed 
every  post  of  honour ;  he  became  ealdorman,  reeve,  bishop,  judge ;  while 
his  wealth  increased  as  the  common  folkland  passed  into  the  hands  of 
the  king,  and  was  carved  out  by  him  into  estates  for  his  dependents. 

The  principle  of  personal  allegiance  embodied  in  the  new  nobility 
tended  to  widen  into  a  theory  of  general  dependence.  From  yClfred's 
day  it  was  assumed  that  no  man  could  exist  without  a  lord.  The  ravages 
and  the  long  insecurity  of  the  Danish  wars  aided  to  drive  the  free 
farmer  to  seek  protection  from  the  thegn.  His  freehold  was  sur- 
rendered to  be  received  back  as  a  fief,  laden  with  service  to  its  lord. 
( Gradually  the  "  lordless  man  "  became  a  sort  of  ouilaw  in  the  realm. 
The  free  churl  san^:  into  the  villein,  and  changed  from  the  freeholder 
who  knew  no  superior  but  God  and  the  law,  to  the  tenant  bound  to  do 
service  lo  his  lord,  to  follow  him  to  the  field,  to  look  to  his  court  for 
justice,  and  render  days  of  service  in  his  demesne.  While  he  lost  his 
older  freedom  he  gradually  lost,  too,  his  share  in  the  government  of 
the  state.  The  life  of  the  earlier  English  state  was  gathered  up  in  its 
folk-moot.  There,  through  its  representatives  chosen  in  every  hundred- 
moot,  the  folk  had  exercised  its  own  sovereignty  in  matters  of  justice  as 
of  peace  and  war  ;  while  beside  the  folk-moot,  and  acting  with  it,  had 
stood  the  Witenagemot,  the  group  of  "  wise  men  "  gathered  to  give 
rede  to  the  king  and  through  him  to  propose  a  course  of  action  to  the 
folk.  The  preliminary  discussion  rested  with  the  nobler  sort,  the  final 
decision  with  all.  The  clash  of  arms,  the  *' Yea"  or  "  Nay  "  of  the 
crowd,  were  its  vote.  But  when  by  the  union  of  the  lesser  realms  the 
folk  sank  into  a  portion  of  a  wider  state,  the  folk-moot  sank  with  it ; 
political  suprem.acy  passed  to  the  court  of  the  far-off  lord,  and  the 
influence  of  the  people  on  government  came  to  an  end.  Nobles  indeed 
could  still  gather  round  the  king  ;  and  while  the  folk-moot  passes  out 
of  political  notice,  the  Witenagemot  is  heard  of  more  and  more  as  a 
royal  council.  It  shared  in  the  higher  justice,  the  imposition  of  taxes 
the  making  of  laws,  the  conclusion  of  treaties,  the  control  of  war,  the 


r.] 


THE  ENGLISH  KINGDOMS. 


6i 


disposal  of  public  lands,  the  appointment  of  great  officers  of  state. 
There  were  times  when  it  even  claimed  to  elect  or  depose  the  king. 
But  with  these  powers  the  bulk  of  the  nobles  had  really  less  and  less 
to  do.  The  larger  the  kingdom  the  greater  grew  the  distance  from 
their  homes  ;  and  their  share  in  the  general  deliberations  of  the  realm 
dwindled  to  nothing.  Practically  the  national  council  shrank  into 
a  gathering  of  the  great  officers  of  Church  and  State  with  the  royal 
thegns,  and  the  old  English  democracy  passed  into  an  oligarchy  of 
the  closest  kind.  The  only  relic  of  the  popular  character  of  English 
government  lay  at  1  ist  in  the  ring  of  citizens  who  at  London  or 
Winchester  gathered  round  the  wise  men  and  shouted  their  ''  Ay " 
or  "  Nay  "  at  the  election  of  a  king. 

It  is  in  the  degradation  of  the  class  in  w'lich  its  true  strength  lay  that 
we  must  look  for  the  cause  of  the  ruin  which  already  hung  over  the 
West-Saxon  realm.  Eadgar  was  but  thirty-two  when  he  died  in  975  ; 
and  the  children  he  left  were  mere  boys.  His  death  opened  the  way 
for  bitter  political  strife  among  the  nobles  of  his  court,  whose  quarrel 
took  the  form  of  a  dispute  over  the  succession.  Civil  war  was,  in  fact, 
only  averted  by  the  energy  of  the  primate  ;  seizing  his  cross,  he  settled 
the  question  of  Eadgar's  successor  by  the  coronation  of  his  son 
Eadward,  and  confronted  his  enemies  successfully  in  two  assemblies  of 
the  W^ise  Men.  In  that  of  Calne  t^e  floor  of  the  room  gave  way,  and 
according  to  monkish  tradition  Dunstan  and  his  friends  alone  re- 
mained unhurt.  But  not  even  the  fame  of  a  miracle  sufficed  to  turn 
the  tide.  The  assassination  of  Eadward  was  followed  by  the  triumph 
of  Dunstan's  opponents,  who  broke  out  in  "  great  joy"  at  the  corona- 
tion of  Eadward's  brother  yEthelred,  a  child  of  ten  years  old.  The 
government  of  the  realm  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  great  nobles 
who  upheld  y^^thelred,  and  Dunstan  withdrew  powerless  to  Canterbury, 
where  he  died  nine  years  later. 

During  the  eleven  years  from  979  to  990,  when  the  young  king 
reached  manhood,  there  is  scarcely  any  internal  history  to  record. 
New  danger  however  threatened  from  abroad.  The  North  was  gird- 
ing itself  for  a  fresh  onset  on  England.  The  Scandinavian  peoples  had 
drawn  together  into  their  kingdoms  of  Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Norway  ; 
and  it  was  no  longer  in  isolated  bands  but  in  national  hosts  that  they 
were  about  to  seek  conquests  in  the  South.  The  seas  were  again 
thronged  with  northern  freebooters,  and  pirate  fleets,  as  of  old,  appeared 
on  the  English  coast.  In  991  came  the  first  burst  of  the  ^torm,  when 
a  body  of  Norwegian  Wikings  landed,  and  utterly  defeated  the  host  of 
East  Anglia  on  the  field  of  Maldon.  In  the  next  year  vEthelred  was 
forced  to  buy  a  truce  from  the  invaders  and  to  suffer  them  to  settle  in 
the  land  ;  while  he  strengthened  himself  by  a  treaty  of  alliance  with 
Normandy,  which  was  now  growing  into  a  great  power  over  sea. 
A  fresh  attempt  to  expel  the  invaders  only  proved  the  signal  for  the 


62 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Sec.  VI. 

The  West- 

Saxox 
Realm 

893 

1013 


Massacre  of 
Danes 


IOO3-IOO7 


gathering  of  pirate-hosts  such  as  England  had  never  seen  before,  under 
Swein  and  Olaf,  claimants  to  the  Danish  and  Norwegian  thrones. 
Their  withdrawal  in  995  was  followed  by  fresh  attacks  in  997  ;  danger 
threatened  from  Normans  and  from  Ost-men,  with  wikings  from  Man, 
and  northmen  from  Cumberland  ;  while  the  utter  weakness  of  the  realm 
was  shown  by  /Ethelred's  taking  into  his  service  Danish  mercenaries, 
who  seem  to  have  been  quartered  through  Wessex  as  a  defence  against 
their  brethren.  Threatened  with  a  new  attack  by  Swein,  who  was  now 
king,  not  only  of  Denmark,  but  by  the  defeat  and  death  of  Olaf,  of 
Norway  itself,  iEthelred  bound  Normandy  to  his  side  by  a  marriage 
with  its  duke's  sister  Emma.  But  a  sudden  panic  betrayed  him  into 
an  act  of  basest  treachery  which  ruined  his  plans  of  defence  at  home. 
Urged  by  secret  orders  from  the  king,  the  West-Saxons  rose  on  St. 
Brice's  day  and  pitilessly  massacred  the  Danes  scattered  among  them. 
Gunhild,  the  sister  of  their  king  Swein,  a  Christian  convert,  and  one 
of  the  hostages  for  the  peace,  saw  husband  and  child  butchered  before 
her  eyes  ere  she  fell  threatening  vengeance  on  her  murderers.  Swein 
swore  at  the  news  to  wrest  England  from  yCthelred.  For  four  years 
he  marched  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  southern  and  eastern 
England,  "  lighting  his  war-beacons  as  he  went "  in  blazing  homestead 
and  town.  Then  for  a  heavy  bribe  he  withdrew,  to  prepare  for  a  later 
and  more  terrible  onset.  But  there  was  no  rest  for  the  realm.  The 
fiercest  of  the  Norwegian  jarls  took  his  place,  and  from  Wessex  the  war 
extended  over  East  Anglia  and  Mercia.  Canterbury  was  taken  and 
sacked,  i^lfheah  the  Archbishop  dragged  to  Greenwich,  and  there  in 
default  of  ransom  brutally  slain.  The  lJ)anes  set  him  in  the  midst  of 
their  husting,  pelting  him  with  stones  and  ox-horns,  till  one  more 
pitiful  than  the  rest  clave  his  skull  with  an  axe. 

But  a  yet  more  terrible  attack  was  preparing  under  Swein  in  the 
North,  and  in  1013  his  fleet  entered  the  Humber,  and  called  on  the 
Danelaw  to  rise  in  his  aid.  Northumbria,  East  Anglia,  the  Five 
Boroughs,  all  England  north  of  Watling  Street,  submitted  to  him  at 
Gainsborough,  ^^thelred  shrank  into  a  King  of  Wessex,  and  of  a 
Wessex  helpless  before  the  foe.  Resistance  was  impossible.  The  war 
was  terrible  but  short.  Everywhere  t,he  country  was  pitilessly 
harried,  churches  plundered,  men  slaughtered.  But  with  the  one  ex- 
ception of  London,  there  was  no  attempt  at  defence.  Oxford  and 
Wmchester  flung  open  their  gates.  The  thegns  of  Wessex  submitted 
to  the  northmen  at  Bath.  Even  London  was  forced  at  last  to  gi^e 
way,  and  yEthelred  fled  over  sea  to  a  refuge  in  Normandy.  With  the 
flight  of  the  king  ended  the  long  struggle  of  Wessex  for  supremacy 
over  Britain.  The  task  which  had  baffled  the  energies  of  Eadwine 
and  Off"a,  and  had  proved  too  hard  for  the  valour  of  Eadward  and  the 
statesmanship  of  Dunstan,  the  task  of  uniting  England  finally  into  a 
single  nation,  was  now  to  pass  to  other  hands. 


11.1 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


63 


CHAPTER   II. 
ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 

1013-1204.. 

Section  I.— Tlie  Danish  King^s. 

\Authoriiies. — We  are  still  aided  by  the  collections  of  royal  laws  and  char- 
ters. The  English  Chronicle  is  here  of  great  importance  ;  its  various  copies 
dififer  much  in  tone,  &c,,  from  one  another,  and  may  to  so  ne  extent  be  re- 
garded as  distinct  works.  Florence  of  Worcester  is  probibly  the  translator 
of  a  valuable  copy  of  the  Chronicle  which  has  disappeared.  For  the  reign  of 
Cnut  see  Green's  "Conquest  of  England."  The  auihority  of  the  contempo- 
rary biographer  of  Eadward  (in  Luard's  "  Lives  of  Eadward  the  Confessor," 
published  by  the  Master  of  the  Rolls)  is  "primary,"  says  Mr,  Freeman,  "for 
all  matters  strictly  personal  to  the  King  and  the  whole  family  of  Godwine. 
He  is,  however,  very  distinctly  not  an  hi><torian,  but  a  biographer,  sometimes 
a  laureate."  All  modern  accounts  of  this  reign  hav£  been  superseded  by  the 
elaborate  hiitory  of  Mr.  Freeaian  ("Norman  Conquest,"  vol.  ii.)  For  the 
Danish  kings  and  the  House  of  Godwine,  see  the  "  Conquest  of  England," 
by  Mr.  Green.] 

Britain  had  become  England  in  the  five  hundred  years  that  followed 
the  landing  of  Hengest,  and  its  conquest  had  ended  in  the  settlement 
of  its  conquerors,  in  their  conversion  to  Christianity,  in  the  birth  of  a 
national  literature,  of  an  imperfect  civilization,  of  a  rough  political 
order.  But  through  the  whole  of  this  earlier  age  every  attempt  to  fuse 
the  various  tribes  of  conquerors  into  a  single  nation  had  failed.  The 
effort  of  Northumbria  to  extend  her  rule  over  all  England  had  been 
foiled  by  the  resistance  of  Mercia  ;  that  of  Mercia  by  the  resistance  of 
Wessex.  Wessex  herself,  even  under  the  guidance  of  great  kings  and 
statesmen,  had  no  sooner  reduced  the  country  to  a  seeming  unity  than 
local  independence  rose  again  at  the  call  of  the  Danes.  The  tide  of 
supremacy  rolled  in  fact  backwards  and  forwards  ;  now  the  South  won 
lordship  over  the  North,  now  the  North  won  lordship  over  the  South. 
Fiut  whatever  titles  kings  might  assume,  or  however  imposing  their 
rule  might  appear,  Northumbrian  remained  apart  from  West-Saxon, 
Dane  from  Englishman.  A  common  national  sympathy  held  the 
country  roughly  together,  but  a  real  national  union  had  yet  to  come. 

Through  the  two  hundred  years  that  lie  between  the  flight  of 
/Ethelred  from  England  to  Normandy  and  that  of  John  from  Nor- 
mandy to  England  our  story  is  a  story  of  foreign  rule.  Kings  from 
Denmark  were  succeeded  by  kings  from  Normandy,  and  these  by 
kings  from  Anjou.     Under  Dane,  Norman,  or  Angevin,  Englishmen 


64 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


lOHAP. 


were  a  subject  race,  conquered  and  ruled  by  foreign  masters ;  ana 
yet  it  was  in  these  years  of  subjection  that  England  first  became  really 
England.  Provincial  differences  were  crushed  into  national  unity  by 
tie  pressure  of  the  stranger.  The  same  pressure  redressed  the  wrong 
v/hich  had  been  done  to  the  fabric  of  national  society  by  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  free  landowner  at  the  close  of  the  preceding  age  into  a 
feudal  dependent  on  his  lord.  The  English  lords  themselves  sank 
ifiio  a  middle  class  as  they  were  pushed  from  their  place  by  tbeforeij^n 
baronage  who  settled  on  English  soil  ;  and  this  change  was  accom- 
panied by  a  gradual  elevation  of  the  class  of  servile  and  semi-servile 
cultivators  which  gradually  lifted  them  into  almost  complete  freedom. 
The  middle-class  which  was  thus  created  was  reinforced  by  the  up- 
growth of  a  corresponding  class  in  our  towns.  Commerce  and  trade 
were  promoted  by  the  justice  and  policy  of  the  foreign  kingi;  and 
with  their  advance  rose  the  political  importance  of  the  trader.  The 
boroughs  of  England,  which  at  the  opening  of  this  period  were  for  the 
nost  part  mere  villages,  were  rich  enough  at  its  close  to  buy  liberty 
from  the  Crown.  Rights  of  self-government,  of  free  speech,  of  common 
deliberation,  which  had  passed  from  the  people  at  large  into  the  hands 
of  its  nobles,  revived  in  the  charters  and  councils  of  the  towns.  A 
moral  revival  followed  hard  on  this  political  developement.  The  occu- 
pation of  every  see  and  abbacy  by  strangers  who  could  only  speak  to 
their  flocks  in  an  unknown  tongue  had  severed  the  higher  clergy  fro;n 
the  lower  priesthood  and  the  people  ;  but  religion  became  a  living 
thing  as  it  passed  to  the  people  themselves,  and  hermit  and  friar 
carried  spiritual  life  home  to  the  heart  of  the  nation  at  large.  At  the 
same  time  the  close  connexion  with  the  Continent  which  foreign  con- 
quest brought  about  secured  for  England  a  new  communion  with  the 
artistic  and  intellectual  life  of  the  world  without  her.  The  old  mental 
stagnation  was  broken  up,  and  art  and  literature  covered  England 
with  great  buildings  and  busy  schools.  Time  for  this  varied  progress 
was  gained  by  the  lon^j  peace  which  England  owed  to  the  firm 
government  of  her  Kings,  while  their  political  ability  gave  her  adminis- 
trative order,  and  their  judicial  reforms  built  up  the  fabric  of  her  law. 
i  n  a  word,  it  is  to  the  stern  discipline  of  these  two  hundred  years  that  we 
owe  not  merely  English  wealth  and  English  freedom,  but  England  itself. 
The  first  of  our  foreign  masters  was  the  Dane.  The  countries  of 
Scandinavia  which  had  so  long  been  the  mere  starting-points  of  the 
pirate-bands  who  had  ravaged  England  and  Ireland  had  now  settled 
down  into  comparative  order.  It  was  the  aim  of  Swein  to  unite  them 
in  a  great  Scandinavian  Empire,  of  which  England  should  be  the  head  ; 
and  this  project,  interrupted  for  a  time  by  his  death,  was  resuMied  with 
yet  greater  vigour  by  his  son  Cnut.  Fear  of  the  Dane  was  still  great  in 
the  land,  and  Cnut  had  no  sooner  appeared  off  the  English  coast  than 
Wcssex,  Meicia,  and  Northumberland  joined  in  owning  him  for  their 


"] 


.NGLAND  UNDER  P^OREIGN  KINGS. 


65 


lord,  and  in  discarding  again  the  rule  of  iEthelred,  who  had  returned 
on  the  death  of  Swein.  When  i^thelred's  death  in  1016  raised  his 
son  Eadmund  Ironside  to  the  throne,  the  loyalty  of  London  enabled  him 
to  struggle  bravely  for  a  few  months  against  the  Danes  ;  but  a  decisive 
victory  at  Assandun  and  the  death  of  his  rival  left  Cnut  master  of  the 
realm.  Conqueror  as  he  was,  the  Dane  was  no  foreigner  in  the  sense 
that  the  Norman  was  a  foreigner  after  him.  His  language  differed 
little  from  the  English  tongue.  He  brought  in  no  new  system  of 
tenure  or  government.  Cnut  ruled,  in  fact,  not  as  a  foreign  conqueror 
hut  as  a  native  king.  The  goodwill  and  tranquillity  of  England  were 
necessary  for  the  success  of  his  larger  schemes  in  the  north,  where 
the  arms  of  his  English  subjects  aided  him  in  later  years  in  uniting 
Denmark  and  Norway  beneath  his  sway.  Dismissing  therefore  his 
Danish  "host,"  and  retaining  only  a  trained  body  of  household  troops 
or  h  US-carls  to  serve  in  sudden  emergencies,  Cnut  boldly  relied  for 
support  within  his  realm  on  the  justice  and  good  government  he 
secured  it.  His  aim  during  twenty  years  seems  to  have  been  to 
obliterate  from  men's  minds  the  foreign  character  of  his  rule,  and  the 
bloodshed  in  which  it  had  begun.  The  change  in  himself  was  as 
startling  as  the  change  in  his  policy.  When  he  first  appears  in 
England,  it  is  as  the  mere  northman,  passionate,  revengeful,  uniting 
the  guile  of  the  savage  with  his  thirst  for  blood.  His  first  acts  of 
government  were  a  series  of  murders.  Eadric  of  Mercia,  whose  aid 
had  given  him  the  crown,  was  felled  by  an  axe-blow  at  the  King's 
signal ;  a  murder  removed  Eadwig,  the  brother  of  Eadmund  Iron- 
side, while  the  children  of  Eadmund  were  hunted  even  into  Hungary 
by  his  ruthless  hate.  But  from  a  savage  such  as  this  Cnut  rose 
suddenly  into  a  wise  and  temperate  king.  Stranger  as  he  was,  He 
fell  back  on  "  Eadgar's  law,"  on  the  old  constitution  of  the  realm,  and 
owned  no  difference  between  conqueror  and  conquered,  between  Dane 
and  Englishman.  By  the  creation  of  four  earldoms,  those  of  Merci:^, 
Northumberland,  Wessex,  and  East  Anglia,  he  recognized  provincial 
independence,  but  he  drew  closer  than  of  old  the  ties  which  bound 
the  rulers  of  these  great  dependencies  to  the  Crown.  He  even  identi- 
fied himself  with  the  patriotism  which  had  withstood  the  stranger. 
The  Church  had  been  the  centre  of  national  resistance  to  thj  Dane, 
but  Cnut  sought  above  all  its  friendship.  He  paid  homage  to  the 
cause  for  which  ^Elfheah  had  died,  by  his  translation  of  the  Arch 
bishop's  body  to  Canterbury.  He  atoned  for  his  father's  ravages  by 
costly  gifts  to  the  religious  houses.  He  protected  English  pilgrims 
against  the  robber-lords  of  the  Alps.  His  love  for  monks  broke  out 
in  the  song  which  he  composed  as  he  listened  to  their  chant  at  Ely : 
"  Merrily  sang  the  monks  in  Ely  when  Cnut  King  rowed  by  "  across 
the  vast  fen-waters  that  surrounded  their  abbey.  "  Row,  boatmen, 
near  the  land,  and  hear  we  these  monks  sing." 

D 


66 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Cnut's  letter  from  Rome  to  his  English  subjects  marks  the  grandeur 
of  his  character  and  the  noble  conception  he  had  formed  of  kingship. 
"  I  have  vowed  to  God  to  lead  a  right  life  in  all  things,"  wrote  the 
King,  "to  rule  justly  and  piously  my  realms  and  subjects,  and  to 
administer  just  judgement  to  all.  If  heretofore  I  have  done  aught 
beyond  what  was  just,  through  headiness  or  negligence  of  youth,  1  am 
ready  with  God's  help  to  amend  it  utterly."  No  royal  officer,  either 
for  fear  of  the  King  or  for  favour  of  any,  is  to  consent  to  injustice,  none 
is  to  do  wrong  to  rich  or  poor  "as  they  would  value  my  friendship 
and  their  own  well-being."  He  especially  denounces  unfair  exactions : 
'•  I  have  no  need  that  money  be  heaped  together  for  me  by  unjust 
demands."  "  I  have  sent  this  letter  before  me,"  Cnut  ends,  "  that  all 
the  people  of  my  realm  may  rejoice  in  my  well-doing ;  for  as  you  your- 
selves know,  never  have  I  spared  nor  will  I  spare  to  spend  myself  and 
my  toil  in  what  is  needful  and  good  for  my  people." 

Cnut's  greatest  gift  to  his  people  was  that  of  peace.  With  him 
began  the  long  internal  tranquillity  which  was  from  this  time  to  be 
the  special  note  of  our  national  history.  During  two  hundred  years, 
with  the  one  terrible  interval  of  the  Norman  Conquest,  and  the 
disturbance  under  Stephen,  England  alone  among  the  kingdoms  of 
Europe  enjoyed  unbroken  repose.  The  wars  of  her  Kings  lay  far 
from  her  shores,  in  France  or  Normandy,  or,  as  with  Cnut,  in  the 
more  distant  lands  of  the  North.  The  stern  justice  of  their  government 
secured  order  within.  The  absence  of  internal  discontent  under  Cnut, 
perhaps  too  the  exhaustion  of  the  kingdom  after  the  terrible  Danish 
inroads,  is  proved  by  its  quiet  during  his  periods  of  absence.  Every- 
thing witnesses  to  the  growing  wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  country. 
A  great  part  of  English  soil  was  indeed  still  utterly  uncultivated. 
Wide  reaches  of  land  were  covered  with  wood,  thicket,  ad  scrub  ;  or 
consisted  of  heaths  and  moor.  In  both  the  east  and  the  west  there 
were  vast  tracts  of  marsh  land  ;  fens  nearly  one  hundred  miles  long 
severed  East  Anglia  from  the  midland  counties  ;  sites  like  that  of 
Glastonbury  or  Athelncy  were  almost  inaccessible.  The  beaver  still 
haunted  marshy  hollows  such  as  those  which  lay  about  Beverley,  the 
London  craftsmen  chased  the  wild  boar  and  the  wild  ox  in  the  woods 
of  Hampstead,  while  wolves  prowled  round  the  homesteads  of  the 
North.  Hut  peace  and  the  industry  it  encouraged  were  telling  on  this 
waste  ;  st  ig  and  wolf  were  retreating  before  the  face  of  man,  the 
farmer's  axe  was  ringing  in  the  forest,  and  villages  were  springing  up 
in  the  clearings.  The  growth  of  commerce  was  seen  in  the  rich 
trading-ports  of  the  eastern  coast.  The  main  trade  lay  probably  in 
skins  and  ropes  and  ship  masts  ;  and  above  all  in  the  iron  and  steel 
that  the  Scandinavian  lands  so  long  supplied  to  Britain.  But  Dane 
and  Norwegian  were  traders  over  a  yet  wider  field  than  the  northern 
seas  ;  their  barks  entered  the  Mediterranean,  while  the  overland  route 


".] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


67 


through  Russia  brought  the  wares  of  Constantinople  and  the  East. 
"What  do  you  bring  to  us  ?"  the  merchant  is  asked  in  an  old  English 
dialogue.  "  I  bring  skins,  silks,  costly  gems,  and  gold,''  he  answers, 
"  besides  various  garments,  pigment,  wine,  oil,  and  ivory,  with  brass, 
and  copper,  and  tin,  silver  and  gold,  and  such  like."  Men  from  the 
Rhineland  and  from  Normandy,  too,  moored  their  vessels  along  the 
Thames,  on  whose  rude  wharves  were  piled  a  strange  medley  of  goods  : 
pepper  and  spices  from  the  far  East,  crates  of  gloves  and  gray  cloths, 
it  may  be  from  the  Lombard  looms,  sacks  of  wool,  iron-work  from 
Liege,  butts  of  French  wine  and  vinegar,  and  with  them  the  rural 
products  of  the  country  itself — cheese,  butter,  lard,  and  eggs,  with  live 
swine  and  fowls. 

Cnut's  one  aim  was  to  win  the  love  of  his  people,  and  all  tradition 
shows  how  wonderful  was  his  success.  But  the  greatness  of  his  rule 
hung  solely  on  the  greatness  of  his  temper,  and  at  his  death  the 
empire  he  had  built  up  at  once  fell  to  pieces.  Denmark  and  England, 
parted  for  a  few  years  by  the  accession  of  his  son  Harald  to  the  throne 
of  the  last,  were  re-united  under  a  second  son,  Harthacnut ;  but  the 
love  which  Cnut's  justice  had  won  turned  to  hatred  before  the  law- 
lessness of  his  successors.  The  long  peace  sickened  men  of  this 
fresh  outburst  of  bloodshed  and  violence.  "  Never  was  a  bloodier 
deed  done  in  the  land  since  the  Danes  came,"  ran  the  popular  song, 
when  Harald's  men  seized  Alfred,  a  brother  of  Eadmund  Ironside, 
who  had  returned  to  England  from  Normandy.  Every  lenth  man  was 
killed,  the  rest  sold  for  slaves,  and  y^Llfred  himself  blinded  and  left  to 
die  at  Ely.  Harthacnut,  more  savage  even  than  his  predecessor,  dug  up 
his  brother's  body  and  flung  it  into  a  marsh  ;  while  a  rising  at  Wor- 
cester against  his  hus-carls  was  punished  by  the  burning  of  the  town 
and  the  pillage  of  the  shire.  His  death  was  no  less  brutal  than  his 
life  ;  "  he  died  as  he  stood  at  his  drink  in  the  house  of  Osgod  Clapa 
at  Lambeth.''  England  wearied  of  kings  like  these  :  but  their  crimes 
helped  her  to  free  herself  from  the  impossible  dream  of  Cnut.  The 
North,  still  more  barbarous  than  herself,  could  give  her  no  new  element 
of  progress  or  civilization.  It  was  the  consciousness  of  this  and  the 
hatred  of  such  rulers  as  Harald  and  Harthacnut  which  co-operated 
with  the  old  feeling  of  reverence  for  the  past  in  calling  back  the 
line  of  yElfred  to  the  throne. 


Section  II.— The  English  Restoration,  104-2— 1066. 

It  is  in  such  transitional  moments  of  a  nation's  history  that  it 
needs  the  cool  prudence,  the  sensitive  selfishness,  the  quick  perception 
of  what  is  possible,  which  distinguished  the  adroit  politician  whom  the 
death  of  Cnut  left  supreme  in  England.    Godwine  is  memorable  in  our 


68 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


history  as  the  first  English  statesman  who  was  neither  king  nor  priest. 
Originally  of  obscure  origin,  his  ability  had  raised  him  high  in  the 
royal  favour ;  he  was  allied  to  Cnut  by  marriage,  entrusted  by  him 
with  the  earlJom  of  Wessex,  and  at  last  made  Viceroy  or  justiciar  in 
the  government  of  the  realm.  In  the  wars  of  Scandinavia  he  had 
shown  courage  and  skill  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  English  troops  who 
supported  Cnut,  but  his  true  field  of  action  lay  at  home.  Shrewd, 
eloquent,  an  active  administrator,  Godwine  united  vigilance,  industry, 
and  caution  with  a  singular  dexterity  in  the  management  of  men. 
During  the  troubled  years  that  followed  the  death  of  Cnut  he  had  done 
his  best  to  continue  his  master's  policy  in  securing  the  internal  union 
of  England  under  a  Danish  sovereign  and  in  preserving  her  con- 
nexion with  the  North.  But  at  the  aeath  jf  Harthacnut  Cnut's  policy 
had  become  impossible,  and  abandoning  the  Danish  cause  Godwine 
drifted  with  the  tide  of  popular  feeling  which  called  Eadward,  the 
son  of  iCthelred,  to  the  throne. 

Eadward  had  lived  from  his  youth  in  exile  at  the  court  of  Normandy. 
A  halo  of  tenderness  spread  in  after-time  round  this  last  King  of  the 
old  English  stock  ;  legends  told  of  his  pious  simplicity,  his  blitheness 
and  gentleness  of  mood,  the  holiness  that  gained  him  his  name  of 
"Confessor"  and  enshrined  him  as  a  saint  in  his  abbey-church  at 
Westminster.  Gleemen  sang  in  manlier  tones  of  the  long  peace  and 
glories  of  his  reign,  how  warriors  and  wise  counsellors  stood  round  his 
throne,  and  Welsh  and  Scot  and  Briton  obeyed  him.  His  was  the  one 
figure  that  stood  out  bright  against  the  darkness  when  England  lay 
trodden  under  foot  by  Norman  conquerors  ;  and  so  dear  became  his 
memory  that  liberty  an  I  independence  itself  seemed  incarnate  in  his 
name.  Instead  of  freedom,  the  subjects  of  William  or  Henry  called  for 
the  ''good  laws  of  Eadward  the  Confessor."  But  it  was  as  a  mere 
shadow  of  the  pa-t  that  the  exile  really  returned  to  the  throne  of 
itlfred ;  there  was  something  shadow-like  in  the  thin  form,  the  delicate 
complexion,  the  transparent  womanly  hands  that  contrasted  with  the 
blue  eyes  and  golden  hair  of  his  race  ;  and  it  is  almost  as  a  shadow 
that  he  glides  over  the  political  stage.  The  work  of  government  was 
done  by  sterner  hands.  The  King's  weakness  left  Godwine  master  of 
the  realm,  and  he  ruled  firmly  and  wisely.  Abandoning  with  reluctance 
all  interference  in  Scandinavian  politics,  he  guarded  England  with  a 
fleet  which  cruised  along  the  coast.  Within,  though  the  earldoms  still 
remained  jealously  independent,  there  were  signs  that  a  real  political 
unity  was  being  slowly  brought  about.  It  was  rather  within  than 
without  that  Godwinc's  work  had  to  be  done,  and  that  it  was  well 
done  was  proved  by  the  peace  of  the  land. 

Throughout  Eadward's  earlier  reign  England  lay  in  the  hands  of  its 
three  earls,  Siward  of  Northumbria,  I.eofric  of  M'ercii,  and  Godwine 
of  Wessex,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  old  tendency  to  proyincial  separa* 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


69 


tion  was  to  triumph  with  the  death  of  Cnut.  What  hindered  this 
severance  was  the  ambition  of  God  wine.  His  whole  mind  seemed  set 
on  the  aggrandizement  of  his  family.  He  had  given  his  daughter  to 
the  king  as  wife.  His  own  earldom  embraced  all  England  south  of 
Thames.  His  son  Harold  was  Earl  of  East  Anglia ;  his  son  Swein 
.ecured  an  earldom  in  the  west;  and  his  nephew  Beorn  was  estab- 
lished in  central  England.  But  the  first  blow  to  Godwine's  power 
came  from  the  lawlessness  of  Swein.  He  seduced  the  abbess  of 
Leominster,  sent  her  home  again  with  a  yet  more  outrageous  demand 
of  her  hand  in  marriage,  and  on  the  King's  refusal  to  grant  it  fled  from 
the  realm.  Godwine's  influence  secured  his  pardon,  but  on  his  very 
return  to  seek  it  Swein  murdered  his  cousin  Beorn,  who  had  opposed 
the  reconciliation.  He  again  fled  to  Flanders,  and  a  storm  of  national 
indignation  followed  him  over  sea.  The  meeting  of  the  Wise  Men 
branded  him  as  "nithing,"  the  '*  utterly  worthless,"  yet  in  a  year  his 
father  wrested  a  new  pardon  from  the  King  and  restored  him  to  his 
earldom.  The  scandalous  inlawing  of  such  a  criminal  left  Godwine 
alone  in  a  struggle  which  soon  arose  with  Eadward  himself.  The 
King  was  a  stranger  in  his  realm,  and  his  sympathies  lay  naturally 
with  the  home  and  friends  of  his  youth  and  exile.  He  spoke  the 
Norman  tongue.  He  used  in  Norman  fashion  a  seal  for  his  charters. 
He  set  Norman  favourites  in  the  highest  posts  of  Church  and  State. 
Strangers  such  as  these,  though  hostile  to  the  minister,  were  powerless 
against  Godwine's  influence  and  ability,  and  when  at  a  later  time 
they  ventured  to  stand  alone  against  him  they  fell  without  a  blow. 
But  the  general  ill-will  at  Swein's  inlawing  enabled  them  to  stir 
Eadward  to  attack  the  Earl.  A  trivial  quarrel  brought  the  oppor- 
tunity. On  his  return  from  a  visit  to  the  court  Eustace  Count  of 
Boulogne,  the  husband  of  the  King's  sister,  demanded  quarters  for  his 
train  in  Dover.  Strife  arose,  and  many  both  of  the  burghers  and 
foreigners  were  slain.  All  (jodwine's  better  nature  withstood  Eadward 
when  the  King  angrily  bade  him  exact  vengeance  from  the  town  for 
the  affront  t'  his  kinsman  ;  and  he  claimed  a  fair  trial  for  the  towns- 
men. Eadward  looked  on  his  refusal  as  an  outrage,  and  the  quarrel 
widened  into  open  strife.  Godwine  at  once  gathered  his  forces  and 
marched  upon  Gloucester,  demanding  the  expulsion  of  the  foreign 
favourites  ;  but  even  in  a  just  quarrel  the  country  was  cold  in  his 
support.  The  Earls  of  Mercia  and  Northumberland  united  their 
forces  to  those  of  Eadward  ;  and  in  a  gathering  of  the  Wise  Men  at 
London  Swein's  outlawry  was  renewed,  while  Godwine,  declining 
with  his  usual  prudence  a  useless  struggle,  withdrew  over-sea  to 
Flanders. 

But  the  wrath  of  the  nation  was  appeased  by  his  fall.  Great  as 
were  Godwine's  faults,  he  was  the  one  man  who  now  stood  between 
England  and  the  rule  of  the  strangers  who  flocked  to  the  Court ;  and 


70 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


a  year  had  hardly  passed  when  at  the  appearance  of  his  fleet  in  the 
Thames  Eadward  was  once  more  forced  to  yield.  The  foreign  prelates 
and  bishops  fled  over-sea,  outlawed  by  the  same  meeting  of  the  Wise 
Men  which  restored  Godwine  to  his  home.  He  returned  only  to  die, 
and  the  direction  of  affairs  passed  quietly  to  his  son. 

Harold  canie  to  power  unfettered  by  the  obstacles  which  had  beset 
his  father,  and  for  twelve  years  he  was  the  actual  governor  of  the 
realm.  The  courage,  the  ability,  the  genius  for  administration,  the 
ambition  and  subtlety  of  Godwine  were  found  again  in  his  son.  In  the 
internal  government  of  England  he  followed  out  his  father's  policy 
while  avoiding  its  excesses.  Peace  was  preserved,  justice  adminis- 
tered, and  the  realm  increased  in  wealth  and  prosperity.  Its  gold 
work  and  embroidery  became  famous  in  the  markets  of  Flanders  and 
France.  Disturbances  from  without  were  crushed  sternly  and  rapidly  ; 
Harold's  military  talents  displayed  themselves  in  a  campaign  against 
Wales,  and  in  the  boldness  and  rapidity  with  which,  arming  his  troops 
with  weapons  adapted  for  mountain  conflict,  he  penetrated  to  the  heart 
of  its  fastnesses  and  reduced  the  country  to  complete  submission. 
But  it  was  a  prosperity  poor  in  the  nobler  elements  of  national  activity, 
and  dead  to  the  more  vivid  influences  of  spiritual  life  Literature, 
which  on  the  Continent  was  kindling  into  a  new  activity,  died  down 
in  England  into  a  few  psalters  and  homilies.  The  few  minsters 
raised  by  king  or  earls  contrasted  strangely  with  the  religious  en- 
thusiasm which  was  covering  Normandy  and  the  Rhineland  with 
stately  buildings.  The  Church  sank  into  lethargy.  Stigand,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  was  the  adherent  ofan  antipope,  andthe  highest 
dignity  of  the  English  Church  was  kept  in  a  state  of  suspension.  No 
important  ecclesiastical  synod,  no  Church  reform,  broke  the  slumbers 
of  its  clergy.  Abroad  Europe  was  waking  to  a  new  revival  of  litera- 
ture, of  art,  of  religion,  but  England  was  all  but  severed  from  the  Con- 
tinent. Like  Godwine,  Harold's  energy  seemed  to  devote  itself  wholly 
to  self-aggrandize.nent.  With  the  gift  of  the  Northumbrian  earldom 
on  Siward's  death  to  Harold's  brother  Tostig,all  England,  save  a  small 
part  of  the  older  Mercia,  lay  in  the  hands  of  the  house  of  ( lodwine.  As 
the  childless  Eadward  drew  to  the  grave  his  minister  drew  closer  and 
closer  to  the  throne.  One  obstacle  after  another  was  swept  from  his 
path.  A  revolt  of  the  Northumbrians  drove  Tostig,  his  most  dangerous 
opponent,  to  Flanders,  and  the  Earl  was  able  to  win  over  the  Mercian 
house  of  Leofric  to  his  cause  by  owning  Morkere,  the  brother  of  the 
Mercian  Earl  Eadwine,  as  Tostig's  successor.  His  aim  was  in  fact 
attained  without  a  struggle,  and  the  nobles  and  bishops  who  were 
gathered  round  the  death-bed  of  the  Confessor  passed  quietly  at  once 
from  it  to  the  election  and  coronation  of  Harold. 


11.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


71 


Section  III.— Normandy  and  the  Normans,  912— 1066. 

[Aulhorities. — D«do  of  S.  Quentin,  a  verbose  and  confused  writer,  has  pre- 
served the  earliest  Norman  traditions.  His  work  is  abridged  and  continued  by 
William  of  Jumieges,  a  contemporary  of  the  Conqueror,  whose  work  forms  the 
base  of  the  "  Roman  de  Rou,'  composed  by  Wace  in  the  time  of  Henry  the 
Second.  The  religious  movement  is  l)est  told  by  Ordericus  Vitalis,  a  Norman 
writer  of  the  twelfth  century,  gossiping  and  confused;  but  full  of  valuable  infor- 
mation. For  Lanfranc  see  "Lanfranci  Opera,  ed.  Giles,"  and  the  life  in 
Hook's  '•'  Archbishops  of  Canterbury."  For  Anselm  see  the  admirable  biogra- 
phy by  Dean  Church.  The  general  history  of  Normandy  is  told  dififusely 
but  picturesquely  by  Sir  F.  Palgrave,  "  Normandy  and  England,"  more 
accurately  and  succinctly  by  Mr.  Freeman,  "  History  of  Norman  Conquest," 
vols.  i.  a  d  ii.] 

The  quiet  of  Harold's  accession  was  at  once  broken  by  news  of 
danger  from  a  land  which,  strange  as  it  seemed  then,  was  soon  to 
become  almost  a  part  of  England  itself.  A  walk  through  Normandy 
teaches  one  more  of  the  age  of  our  history  which  we  are  about  to 
traverse  than  all  the  books  in  the  world.  The  story  of  the  Conquest 
stands  written  in  the  stately  vault  of  the  minster  at  Caen  which  still 
covers  the  tomb  of  the  Conqueror.  The  name  of  each  hamlet  by  the 
roadside  has  its  memories  for  English  ears  ;  a  fragment  of  castle  wall 
marks  the  home  of  the  Bruce,  a  tiny  little  village  preserves  the  name 
of  the  Percy.  The  very  look  of  the  country  and  its  people  seem 
familiar  to  us  ;  the  peasant  in  his  cap  and  blouse  recalls  the  build  and 
features  of  the  small  English  farmer  ;  the  fields  about  Caen,  with  their 
dense  hedgerows,  their  elms,  their  apple-orchards,  are  the  very  picture 
of  an  English  country-side.  On  the  windy  heights  around  rise  the  square 
grey  keeps  which  Normandy  handed  on  to  the  cliffs  of  Richmond 
or  the  banks  of  Thames,  while  huge  cathedrals  lift  themselves 
over  the  red-tiled  roofs  of  little  market  towns,  the  models  of  the 
stately  fabrics  which  superseded  the  lowlier  churches  of  Alfred  or 
Dunstan. 

Hrolf  the  Ganger,  or  Walker,  a  Norwegian  and  a  pirate  leader 
like  Guthrum  or  Hasting,  had  wrested  the  land  on  either  side  the 
mouth  of  Seine  from  the  French  king.  Chares  the  Simple,  at  the 
moment  when  Alfred's  children  were  beginning  their  conquest  of  the 
EngHsh  Danelaw.  The  treaty  in  which  France  purchased  peace  by 
this  cession  of  the  coast  was  a  close  imitation  of  the  peace  of  Wed- 
more.  Hrolf,  like  Guthrum,  was  baptized,  received  the  king's  daughter 
in  marriage,  and  became  his  vassal  for  the  territory  which  now  took 
the  name  of  "the  Northman's  land"  or  Normandy.  But  vassalage  and 
the  new  faith  sat  alike  lightly  on  the  pirate.  No  such  ties  of  blood  and 
speech  tended  to  unite  the  northman  with  the  French  among  whom  he 
settled   along  the  Seine  as  united  him   to   the    Englishmen  among 


72 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP 


whom  he  settled  along  the  Humber.  William  Longsword,  the  son 
of  Hrolf,  though  wavering  towards  France  and  Christianity,  remained 
a  northman  in  heart  ;  he  called  in  a  Danish  colony  to  occupy  his 
conquest  of  the  Cotentin,  the  peninsula  which  runs  out  from  St. 
Michael's  Mount  to  the  cliffs  of  Cherbourg,  and  reared  his  boy  among 
the  northmen  of  Bayeux,  where  the  Danish  tongue  and  fashions  most 
stubbornly  held  their  own.  A  heathen  reaction  followed  his  death 
and  the  bulk  of  the  Normans,  with  the  child  Du'e  Richard,  fell  awa> 
for  the  time  from  Christianity,  while  new  pirate-fleets  came  swarm- 
ing up  the  Seine.  To  the  close  of  the  century  the  whole  people  arc 
still  "  Pirates"  t6  the  French  around  them,  their  land  the  "Pirates' 
land,"  their  Duke  the  "  Pirates'  Duke." 

Yet  in  the  end  the  same  forces  which  merged  the  Dzme  in  the 
Englishman  told  even  more  powerfully  on  the  Dane  in  France.  No 
race  has  ever  shown  a  greater  power  of  absorbing  all  the  nobler 
characteristics  of  the  peoples  with  whom  they  came  in  contact,  or  of 
infusing  their  own  energy  into  them.  During  the  long  reign  of  Duke 
Richard  the  Fearless,  the  son  of  William  Longsword,  heathen  Nor- 
man pirates  became  French  Christians,  and  feudal  at  heart.  The 
old  Norse  language  lived  only  at  Bayeux,  and  in  a  few  local  names 
As  the  old  northern  freedom  died  silently  away,  the  descendants  of  the 
pirates  became  feudal  nobles,  and  the  "  Pirates'  land  "  sank  into  the 
most  loyal  of  the  fiefs  of  France.  The  change  of  manners  was  accom- 
panied by  a  change  of  faith,  a  change  which  bound  the  land  where 
heathendom  had  fought  stubbornly  for  life  to  the  cause  of  Christianity 
and  the  Church.  The  Dukes  were  the  first  to  be  touched  by  the  new 
faith,  but  as  the  religious  movement  spread  to  the  people  it  was  wel- 
comed with  an  almost  passionate  fanaticism.  Every  road  was  crowded 
with  pilgrims.  Monasteries  rose  in  every  forest  glade.  Herlouin,  a 
knight  of  Brionne,  sought  shelter  from  the  world  in  a  little  valley  edged 
in  with  woods  of  ash  and  elm,  through  which  a  beck  or  rivulet  (to  which 
his  house  owed  its  after-name)  runs  down  to  the  Risle.  He  was  one 
day  busy  building  an  oven  with  his  own  hands  when  a  stranger  greeted 
him  with  "  God  save  you  !  "  "  Are  you  a  Lombard  ?  "  asked  the  knight- 
abbot,  struck  with  the  foreign  k  ok  of  the  man.  "  I  am,"  he  replied  : 
and  praying  to  be  made  a  monk,  the  stranger  fell  down  at  the  mouth  of 
the  oven  and  kissed  Herlouin's  feet.  The  Lombard  was  Lanfranc  of 
Pavia,  a  scholar  especially  skilled  in  the  traditions  of  the  Roman  law, 
who  had  wandered  across  the  Alpo  to  found  a  school  at  Avranches,  and 
was  now  drawn  to  a  relii^ious  life  by  the  fame  of  Herlouin's  sanctity. 
The  religious  impulse  was  a  real  on-*,  but  Lanfranc  was  destined  to  bo 
known  rather  as  a  great  administrator  and  statesman  than  .is  a  saint. 
His  teaching  raised  Bee  in  a  few  years  into  the  nriost  famous 
school  of  Christendom  :  it  was  in  fact  the  first  wave  of  the  intel- 
lectual movement  which    was  spreading  from   Italy  to   the   ruder 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


73 


countries  of  the  West.  The  whole  mental  activity  of  the  time  seemed 
concentrated  in  the  group  of  scholars  who  gathered  round  him  ;  the 
fabric  of  the  canon  law  and  of  mediaeval  scholasticism,  with  the  philo- 
sophical scepticism  which  first  awoke  under  its  influence,  all  trace  their 
origin  to  Bee. 

The  most  famous  of  these  scholars  was  Anselm  of  Aosta,  an  Italian 
Hke  Lanfranc  himself,  and  who  was  soon  to  succeed  him  as  Prior  and 
teacher  at  Bee.  Friends  as  they  were,  no  two  men  could  be  more 
strangely  unlike.  Anselm  had  grown  to  manhood  in  the  quiet  solitude 
of  his  mountain-valley,  a  tender-hearted  poet-dreamer,  with  a  soul 
pure  as  the  Alpine  snows  above  him,  and  an  intelligence  keen  and 
clear  as  the  mountain  air.  The  whole  temper  of  the  man  was  painted 
in  a  dream  of  his  youth.  It  seemed  to  him  as  though  heaven  lay,  a 
stately  palace,  amid  the  ';:leaming  hill-peaks,  while  the  women  reaping 
in  the  corn-fields  of  the  valley  became  harvest  maidens  of  its  heavenly 
King.  They  reaped  idly,  and  Anselm,  grieved  at  their  sloth,  hastily 
cHmbed  the  mountain-side  to  accuse  them  to  their  lord.  As  he 
reached  the  palace  the  King's  voice  called  him  to  his  feet,  and  he 
poured  forth  his  tale  ;  then  at  the  royal  bidding  bread  of  an  unearthly 
whiteness  was  set  before  him,  and  he  ate  and  was  refreshed.  The  dream 
passed  with  the  morning  ;  but  the  sense  of  heaven's  nearness  to  earth, 
the  fervid  loyalty  to  the  service  of  his  Lord,  the  tender  restfulness 
and  peace  in  the  Divine  presence  which  it  reflected  became  the 
life  of  Anselm.  Wandering  like  other  Italian  scholars  to  Normandy, 
he  became  a  monk  under  Lanfranc,  and  on  his  teacher's  removal  to 
higher  duties  succeeded  him  in  the  direction  of  the  Abbey  of  Bee.  No 
teacher  has  ever  thrown  a  greater  spirit  of  love  into  his  toil.  "  Force 
your  scholars  to  improve  ! "  he  burst  out  to  another  teacher  who  relied 
on  blows  and  compulsion.  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  craftsman  fashion  a 
fair  image  out  of  a  golden  plate  by  blows  alone  ?  Does  he  not  now 
gently  press  it  and  strike  it  with  his  tools,  now  with  wise  art  yet  more 
gently  raise  and  shape  it  ?  What  do  your  scholars  turn  into  under 
this  ceaseless  beating.?"  "They  turn  only  brutal,"  was  the  reply. 
"  You  have  bad  luck,"  was  the  keen  answer,  "  in  a  training  that  only 
turns  men  into  beasts."  The  worst  natures  softened  before  this  ten- 
derness and  patience.  Even  the  Conqueror,  so  harsh  and  terrible 
to  others,  became  another  man,  gracious  and  easy  of  speech,  with 
Anselm. 

But  amidst  his  absorbing  cares  as  a  teacher,  the  Prior  of  Bee  found 
time  for  philosophical  speculations,  to  which  we  owe  the  great  scientific 
inquiries  which  built  up  the  theology  of  the  middle  ages.  His  famous 
works  were  the  first  attempts  of  any  Christian  thinker  to  elicit  the  idea 
of  God  from  the  very  nature  of  the  human  reason.  His  passion  for 
abstruse  thought  robbed  him  of  food  and  sleep.  Sometimes  he  could 
hardly  pray.     Often  the  night  was  a  long  watch  till  he  could  seize  his 

D* 


74 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


conception  and  write  it  on  the  wax  tablets  which  lay  beside  him.  But 
not  even  a  fever  of  intense  thouj^'ht  such  as  this  could  draw  Anselm's 
heart  from  its  passionate  tenderness  and  love.  Sirk  monks  in  the 
infirmary  could  relish  no  drink  save  the  juice  which  his  hand  had 
squeezed  for  them  from  the  grape-bunch.  In  the  later  days  of  his 
archbishoprick  a  hare  chased  by  the  hounds  took  refuge  under  his 
horse,  and  his  voice  grew  loud  as  he  forbade  a  huntsman  to  stir  in  the 
chase  while  the  creature  darted  off  again  to  the  woods.  Even  the 
greed  of  lands  for  the  Church  to  which  so  many  religious  men  y  -elded 
found  its  characteristic  rebuke,  as  the  battling  lawyers  saw  Anselm 
quietly  close  his  eyes  in  court  and  go  peacefully  to  sleep. 


Section  IV.— The  Conqueror,  1042—1066. 

[Authorities. — Primarily  the  "Gesta  Willelmi "  of  his  chaplain,  William  of 
Poitiers,  a  violent  partizan  of  the  Duke.  William  of  Jumieges  is  here  a  contem- 
porary, and  of  great  value.  Orderic  and  Wace,  with  the  other  riming  chronicle 
of  Benoit  de  Sainte-More,  come  in  the  second  place.  For  the  invasion  and 
Senlac  we  have,  in  addition,  the  contemporary  "  Carmen  de  lielio  Hastingensi," 
by  Guy,  Bishop  of  Amiens,  and  the  invaluable  pictures  of  the  iiayeux  Tapestry. 
The  English  accounts  are  most  meagre.  The  invasion  and  batt'e  of  Senlac 
are  the  subject  of  Mr.  Freeman's  third  volume  (*'  Hist,  of  Norman  Conquest  ").] 

It  was  not  this  new  fervour  of  faith  only  which  drove  Norman 
pilgrims  in  flocks  to  the  shrines  of  Italy  and  the  Holy  Land.  The  old 
northern  spirit  of  adventure  turned  the  pilgrims  into  Crusaders,  and 
the  flower  of  Norman  knighthood,  impatient  of  the  stern  rule  of  their 
Dukes,  followed  Roger  de  Toesny  against  the  Moslem  of  Spain,  or 
enlisted  under  the  banner  of  the  Greeks  in  their  war  with  the  Arabs 
who  had  conquered  Sicily.  The  Normans  became  conquerors  under 
Robert  Guiscard,  a  knight  who  had  left  his  home  in  the  Cotentin  with 
a  single  follower,  but  whose  valour  and  wisdom  soon  placed  him  at  the 
head  of  his  fellow-soldiers  in  Italy.  Attacking  the  Greeks,  whom  they 
had  hitherto  served,  the  Norman  knights  wrested  Apulia  from  them  in 
an  overthrow  at  Cannae,  Guiscard  himself  led  them  to  the  conquest  of 
Calabria  and  the  great  trading  cities  of  the  coast,  while  thirty  years  of 
warfare  gave  Sicily  to  the  followers  of  his  brother  Roger.  The  two 
conquests  were  united  under  a  line  of  princes  to  whose  munificence  art 
owes  the  splendour  of  Palermo  and  Monreale,  and  literature  the  first 
outburst  of  Italian  song.  Normandy,  still  seething  with  vigorous  life, 
was  stirred  to  greed  and  enterprize  by  this  plunder  of  the  South,  and 
the  rumour  of  Guiscard's  exploits  roused  into  more  ardent  life  the 
daring  ambition  of  its  Duke. 

William  the  Great,  as  men  of  his  own  day  styled  him,  William  the 
Conqueror,  as  by  one  event  he  stamped  himself  on  our  history,  was 
now  Duke  of  Normandy.      The  full  grandeur  of  his  indomitable  will. 


a.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER   1  OREIGN  KINGS. 


7n 


his  large  and  patient  statesmanship,  the  loftiness  of  aim  which  lifts  him 
out  of  the  petty  incidents  of  his  age,  were  as  yet  only  partly  disclosed. 
But  there  never  was  a  moment  from  his  boyhood  when  he  was  not 
among  the  greatest  of  men.  His  life  was  one  long  mastering  of  diffi- 
culty after  difficulty.  The  shame  of  his  birth  remained  in  his  name  of 
"the  Bastard."  ^His  father,  Duke  Robert,  had  seen  Arlotta,  the 
daughter  of  a  tanner  of  the  town,  washing  her  linen  in  the  little  brook 
by  Falaise,  and  loving  her  had  made  her  the  mother  of  his  boy.^ 
Robert's  departure  on  a  pilgrimage  from  which  he  never  returned  left 
William  a  child-ruler  among  the  most  turbulent  baronage  in  Christen- 
dom, and  treason  and  anarchy  surrounded  him  as  he  grew  to  manhood. 
Disorder  broke  at  last  into  open  revolt.  Surprised  in  his  hunting-seat 
at  Valognes  by  the  rising  of  the  Bessin  and  Cotentin  districts,  in  which 
the  pirate  temper  and  lawlessness  lingered  longest,  William  had  only 
time  to  dash  through  the  fords  of  Vire  with  the  rebels  on  his  track.  A 
fierce  combat  of  horse  on  the  slopes  of  Val-es-dunes,  to  the  south  east- 
ward of  Caen,  left  him  master  of  the  duchy,  and  the  old  Scandinavian 
Normandy  yielded  for  ever  to  the  new  civilization  which  streamed  in 
with  French  alliances  and  the  French  tongue.  William  was  himself  a 
type  of  the  transition.  In  the  young  duke's  character  the  old  world 
mingled  strangely  with  the  new,  the  pirate  jostled  roughly  with  the 
statesman.  William  was  the  most  terrible,  as  he  was  the  last  outcome 
of  the  northern  race.  The  very  spirit  of  the  "  sea-wolves  "  who  had  so 
long  "  lived  on  the  pillage  of  the  world"  seemed  embodied  in  his  gigantic 
form,  his  enormous  strength,  his  savage  countenance,  his  desperate 
bravery,  the  fury  of  his  wrath,  the  ruthlessness  of  his  revenge.  "  No 
knight  under  heaven,"  his  enemies  confessed,  "  was  William's  peer.'' 
Boy  as  he  was,  horse  and  man  went  down  before  his  lance  at  Val-es- 
dunes.  All  the  fierce  gaiety  of  his  nature  broke  out  in  the  chivalrous 
adventures  of  his  youth,  in  his  rout  of  fifteen  Angevins  with  but  five 
soldiers  at  his  back,  in  his  defiant  ride  Over  the  ground  which  Geoffry 
Martel  claimed  from  him,  a  ride  with  hawk  on  fist  as  though  war  and 
the  c''ase  were  one.  No  man  could  bend  his  bow.  His  mace  crashed  its 
way  through  a  ring  of  English  warriors  to  the  foot  of  the  Standard. 
He  rose  to  his  greatest  heights  in  moments  when  other  men  despaired. 
His  voice  rang  out  like  a  trumpet  to  rally  his  soldiers  as  they  fled 
before  the  English  charge  at  Senlac.  In  his  winter  march  on  Chester 
he  strode  afoot  at  the  head  of  his  fainting  troops,  and  helped  with  his 
own  hands  to  clear  a  road  through  the  snowdrifts.  With  the  north- 
man's  daring  broke  out  the  northman's  pitilessness.  When  the  towns- 
men of  Alengon  hung  raw  hides  along  their  walls  in  scorn  of  the 
baseness  of  his  birth,  with  cries  of  "  Work  for  the  Tanner  !  "  William 
tore  out  his  prisoners'  eyes,  cut  off  their  hands  and  feet,  and  flung  them 
into  the  town.  At  the  close  of  his  greatest  victory  he  refused  Harold's 
body  a  grave.       Hundreds  of  Hampshire  men  were  driven  from  their 


1^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


homes  to  make  him  a  hunting-ground,  and  his  harr)'ing  of  Northum- 
bria  left  the  north  of  England  a  desolate  waste.  There  is  a  grim,  ruth- 
less ring  about  his  very  jests.  In  his  old  age  Philip  of  France  mocked 
at  the  Conqueror's  unwieldy  bulk  and  at  the  sickness  which  confined 
him  to  his  bed  at  Rouen.  "  King  William  has  as  long  a  lying-in," 
laughed  his  enemy,  "  as  a  woman  behind  her  curtains  !  "  ''  When  I 
get  up,"  swore  William,  "  I  will  go  to  mass  in  Philip's  land,  and  bring 
a  rich  offering  for  my  churching.  I  will  offer  a  thousand  candles  for 
my  fee.  Flaming  brands  shall  they  be,  and  steel  shall  glitter  over  the 
fire  they  make."  At  harvest-tide  town  and  hamlet  flaring  into  ashes 
along  the  French  border  fulfilled  the  Conqueror's  vow.  There  is  the 
same  savage  temper  in  the  loneliness  of  his  life.  He  recked  little  of 
men's  love  or  hate.  His  grim  look,  his  pride,  his  silence,  his  wild  out- 
bursts of  passion,  spread  terror  through  his  court.  "  So  stark  and 
fierce  was  he,"  says  the  English  Chronicler,  "  that  none  dared  resist 
his  will."  His  graciousness  to  Anselm  only  brought  out  into  stronger 
relief  the  general  harshness  of  his  tone.  His  very  wrath  was  solitary. 
"To  no  man  spake  he,  and  no  man  dared  speak  to  him."  when  the 
news  reached  him  of  Harold's  accession  to  the  throne.  It  was  only 
when  he  passed  from  the  palace  to  the  loneliness  of  the  woods  that 
the  King's  temper  unbent.  "  He  loved  the  wild  deer  as  though  he 
had  been  their  father.  Whosoever  should  slay  hart  or  hind  man 
should  blind  him."  Death  itself  took  its  colour  from  the  savage  soli- 
tude of  his  life.  Priests  and  nobles  fled  as  the  last  breath  left  him, 
and  the  Conqueror's  body  lay  naked  and  lonely  on  the  floor 

It  was  the  genius  of  William  which  lifted  him  out  of  this  mere  north- 
man  into  a  great  general  and  a  great  statesman.  The  growth  of  the 
Norman  power  was  jealously  watched  by  Geoffry  Martel,  the  Count  of 
Anjou,  and  his  influence  succeeded  in  converting  France  from  friend  to 
foe.  The  danger  changed  William  at  once  from  the  chivalrous  knight 
errant  of  Val-es-dunes  into  a  wary  strategist.  As  the  French  army 
crossed  the  border  he  hung  cautiously  on  its  flanks,  till  a  division 
which  had  encamped  in  the  little  town  of  Mortemer  had  been  surprised 
and  cut  to  pieces  by  his  soldiers.  A  second  division  was  still  held  at 
bay  by  the  duke  himself,  when  Ralph  de  Toesny,  climbing  up  into  a 
tree,  shouted  to  them  the  news  of  their  comrades'  fall.  "  Up,  up, 
Frenchmen  !  you  sleep  too  long :  go  bury  your  friends  that  lie  slain 
at  Mortemer."  A  second  and  more  formidable  invasion  four  years 
later  was  met  with  the  same  cautious  strategy.  William  hung  on  the 
Frenchmen's  flank,  looking  coolly  on  while  town  and  abbey  were 
plundered,  the  Bessin  ravaged,  Caen  sacked,  and  the  invaders  pre- 
pared to  cross  the  Dive  at  Varaville  and  carry  fire  and  sword  into  the 
rich  land  of  Lisieux.  But  only  half  the  army  m  as  over  the  river  when 
the  Duke  fell  suddenly  upon  its  rear.  The  fight  raged  till  the  rising  of 
the  tide  cut  the  French  forces,  as  William  had  foreseen,  hopelc:~>ly  in 


n.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


11 


two.  Huddled  together  on  a  narrow  causeway,  swept  by  the  Norman 
arrows,  knights,  footmen,  and  baggage  train  were  involved  in  the 
same  ruin.  Not  a  man  escaped,  and  the  French  king,  who  h:\d 
been  forced  to  look  on  helplessly  from  the  opposite  bank,  fled  home 
to  die.  The  death  of  Geoffry  Martel  left  William  without  a  rival 
among  the  princes  of  France.  Maine,  the  border  land  between 
Norman  and  Angevin,  and  which  had  for  the  last  ten  years  been 
held  by  Anjou,  submitted  without  a  struggle  to  his  rule.  Britanny, 
which  had  joined  the  league  of  his  foes,  was  reduced  to  submission  by 
a  single  march. 

All  this  activity  abroad  was  far  from  distracting  the  Duke's  attention 
from  Normandy  itself.  It  was  hard  to  secure  peace  and  order  in  a 
land  filled  with  turbulent  robber-lords.  "The  Normans  must  be  trodden 
down  and  kept  under  foot,"  said  one  of  their  poets,  "for  he  only  who 
bridles  them  may  use  them  at  his  need."  William  "could  never  love 
a  robber."  His  stern  protection  of  trader  and  peasant  roused  the 
baronage  through  his  first  ten  years  to  incessant  revolt.  His  very 
kinsfolk  headed  the  discontent,  and  summoned  the  French  king  to 
their  aid.  But  the  victories  of  Mortemer  and  Varaville  left  the  rebels 
at  his  mercy.  Some  rotted  in  his  dungeons,  some  were  driven  into 
exile,  and  joined  the  conquerors  of  Apulia  and  Sicily.  The  land 
settled  down  into  peace  and  order,  and  William  turned  to  the  reform 
of  the  Church.  Malger,  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  a  mere  hunting  and 
feasting  prelate,  was  summarily  deposed,  and  his  place  filled  by 
Maurilius,  a  French  ecclesiastic  of  piety  and  learning.  Frequent 
councils  under  the  Duke's  guidance  amended  the  morals  of  the  clergy. 
The  school  of  Bee,  as  we  have  seen,  had  become  a  centre  of  educa- 
tion ;  and  William,  with  the  keen  insight  mto  men  which  formed  so 
marked  a  feature  in  his  genius,  selected  its  prior  as  his  chief  adviser. 
In  a  strife  with  the  Papacy  which  the  Duke  had  provoked  by  his 
marriage  with  Matilda  of  Flanders,  Lanfranc  iook  the  side  of  Rome, 
and  his  opposition  had  been  punished  by  a  sentence  of  banishment. 
The  Prior  set  out  on  a  lame  horse,  the  only  one  his  house  could  afford, 
and  was  overtaken  by  the  Duke,  impatient  that  he  should  quit  Nor- 
mandy. "  Give  me  a  better  horse  and  I  shall  go  the  quicker,"  replied 
the  imperturbable  Lombard,  and  the  Duke's  wrath  passed  into  laughter 
and  good-will.  From  that  hour  Lanfranc  became  his  minister  and 
counsellor,  whether  for  affairs  in  the  duchy  itself  or  for  the  more 
daring  schemes  of  ambition  which  were  opened  up  to  him  by  the 
position  of  England. 

For  half  a  century  the  two  countries  had  been  drawing  nearer 
together.  At  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Richard  the  Fearless  the 
Danish  descents  upon  the  English  coast  had  found  support  in  Nor- 
mandy, and  their  fleet  had  wintered  in  her  ports.  It  was  to  revenge 
these  attacks  that  y^thelred  had  despatched  a  fleet  across  the  Channel 


78 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


to  ravage  the  Cotentin,  but  the  fleet  was  repulsed,  and  the  strife 
appeased  by  i4£thelre  I's  marriage  with  Emma,  a  sister  of  Kichard  the 
Good.  yEthelred  with  his  children  found  shelter  in  Normandy  from 
the  Danish  kings,  and,  if  Norman  accounts  are  to  be  trusted,  contrary 
winds  alone  prevented  a  Norman  fleet  from  undertaking  their  restora- 
tion. The  peaceful  recall  of  Eadward  to  the  throne  seemed  to  open 
England  to  Norman  ambition,  and  Godwine  was  no  sooner  banished 
than  Duke  William  appeared  at  the  English  court,  and  received,  as 
he  afterwards  asserted,  a  promise  of  succession  to  its  throne  from  the 
King.  Such  a  promise,  unconfirmed  by  the  national  assembly  of  the 
Wise  Men,  was  utterly  valueless,  and  for  the  moment  Godwine's  recall 
put  an  end  to  William's  hopes.  They  are  said  to  have  been  revived 
by  a  storm  which  threw  Harold,  while  cruis.ng  in  the  Channel,  on  the 
French  coast,  and  William  forced  him  to  swear  on  the  relics  of 
saints  to  support  the  Duke's  claim  as  the  price  of  his  own  return  to 
England :  but  the  news  of  the  King's  death  was  at  once  followed  by 
that  of  Harold's  accession,  and  after  a  burst  of  furious  passion  the 
Duke  prepared  to  enforce  his  claim  by  arms.  William  did  not  claim 
the  Crown.  He  claimed  simply  the  right  which  he  afterwards  used 
when  his  sword  had  won  it,  of  presenting  himself  for  election  by  the 
nation,  and  he  believed  himself  entitled  so  to  present  himself  by  the 
direct  commendation  of  the  Confessor.  The  actual  election  of  Harold 
which  stood  in  his  way,  hurried  as  it  was,  he  did  not  recognize  as 
valid  But  with  this  constitutional  claim  was  inextricably  mingled  his 
resentment  at  the  private  wrong  which  Harold  had  done  him,  and  a 
resolve  to  exact  vengeance  on  the  man  whom  he  regarded  as  untrue 
to  his  oath. 

The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  his  enterprise  were  indeed  enormous. 
He  could  reckon  on  no  support  within  England  itself.  At  home  he 
had  to  extort  the  consent  of  his  own  reluctant  baronage  ;  to  gather  a 
motley  host  from  every  quarter  of  France,  and  to  keep  it  together 
for  months  ;  to  create  a  fleet,  to  cut  down  the  very  trees,  to  build, 
to  launch,  to  man  the  vessels  ;  and  to  find  time  amidst  all  this  for  the 
common  business  of  government,  for  negotiations  with  Denmark  and 
the  Empire,  wit'i  France,  Britanny,  and  Anjou,  with  Flanders  and  with 
Rome.  His  rival's  difficulties  were  hardly  less  than  his  own.  Harold 
was  threatened  with  invasion  not  only  by  William  but  by  his  brother 
Tostig,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Norway  and  secured  the  aid  of  its 
king,  Harald  Hardrada.  The  fleet  and  army  he  had  gathered  lay 
watching  for  months  *long  the  coast.  His  one  standing  force  was  his 
body  of  hus-carls,  but  their  numbers  only  enabled  them  to  act  as  the 
nucleus  of  an  army.  On  the  other  hand  the  Land-fyrd,  or  general  levy 
of  fighting-men,  was  a  body  easy  to  raise  for  any  single  encounter,  but 
hard  to  keep  together.  To  assemble  such  a  force  was  to  bring  labour 
to  a  standstill.     The  men  gathered  under  the  King's  standard  were  the 


l.J 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


79 


farmers  and  ploughmen  of  their  fields.  The  ships  were  the  fishing- 
vessels  of  the  coast.  In  September  the  task  of  holding  them  together 
became  impossible,  but  their  dispersion  had  hardly  ta  en  place  when 
the  two  clouds  which  had  so  long  been  gathering  burst  at  once  upon 
the  realm.  A  change  of  wind  released  the  landlocked  armament  of 
William  ;  but  before  changing,  the  wind  which  prisoned  the  Duke  had 
flung  the  host  of  Harald  Hardrada  on  the  coast  of  Yorkshire.  The 
King  hastened  with  his  household  troops  to  the  north,  and  repulsed  the 
invaders  in  a  decisive  overthrow  at  Stamford  Bridge,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  York  ;  but  ere  he  could  hurry  back  to  London  the  Norman 
host  had  crossed  the  sea,  and  William,  who  had  anchored  on  the  28lh 
off  Pevensey,  was  ravaging  the  coast  to  bring  his  rival  to  an  engage- 
ment. His  merciless  ravages  succeeded,  as  they  were  intended,  in 
drawing  Harold  from  T.ondonto  the  south  ;  but  the  King  wisely  refused 
to  attack  with  the  forces  he  had  hastily  summoned  to  his  banner.  If 
he  was  forced  to  give  battle,  he  resolved  to  give  it  on  ground  he  had 
himself  chosen,  and  advancing  near  enough  to  the  coast  to  check 
William's  ravages,  he  entrenched  himself  on  a  hill  known  afterwards 
as  that  of  Senlac,  a  low  spur  of  the  Sussex  Downs  near  Hastings. 
His  position  covered  London,  and  drove  William  to  concentrate  his 
forces.  With  a  host  subsisting  by  pillage,  to  concentrate  is  to 
starve  ;  and  no  alternative  was  left  to  William  but  a  decisive  victory 
or  ruin. 

."  long  the  higher  ground  that  leads  from  Hastings  the  Duke  led  his 
men  in  the  dim  dawn  of  an  October  morning  to  the  mound  of  Telham. 
It  was  from  this  point  that  the  Normans  saw  the  host  of  the  English 
gathered  thickly  behind  a  rough  trench  and  a  stockade  on  the  height 
of  Senlac.  Marshy  ground  covered  their  right  ;  on  the  left,  the  most 
exposed  part  of  the  position,  the  hus-carls  or  body-guard  of  Harold, 
men  in  full  armour  and  wielding  huge  axes,  were  grouped  round  the 
Goltlen  Dragon  of  Wessex  and  the  Standard  of  the  King.  The  rest  of 
the  ground  was  covered  by  thick  masses  of  half-armed  rustics  who  had 
flocked  at  Harold's  summons  to  the  fight  with  the  stranger.  It  was 
against  the  centre  of  this  formidable  position  that  William  arrayed  his 
Norman  knighthood,  while  the  mercenary  forces  he  had  gathered  in 
France  and  Britanny  were  ordered  to  attack  its  flanks.  A  general 
charge  of  the  Norman  foot  opened  the  battle  ;  in  front  rode  the  minstrel 
Taillefer,  tossing  his  sword  in  the  air  and  catching  it  again  while  he 
chaunted  the  song  of  Roland.  He  was  the  first  of  the  host  who  struck 
a  blow,  and  he  was  the  first  to  fall.  The  charge  broke  vainly  on  the 
stout  stockade  behind  which  the  English  warrioia  plied  axe  and  javelin 
with  fierce  cries  of  "  Out,  out,"  and  the  repulse  of  the  Norman  footmen 
was  followed  by  a  repulse  of  the  Norman  horse.  Again  and  again 
the  Duke  rallied  and  led  them  to  the  fatal  stockade.  All  the  fury  of 
tight  that  glowed  in   his    Norseman's  blood,  all  the  headlong  valour 


So 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


that  had  spurred  him  over  the  slopes  of  Val-es-dunes,  mingled  that 
day  with  the  coolness  of  head,  the  dogged  perseverance,  the  inex- 
haustible faculty  of  resource  which  had  shone  at  Mortemer  and  Vara- 
ville.  His  Breton  troops,  entangled  in  the  marshy  ground  on  his  left, 
broke  in  disorder,  and  as  panic  spread  through  the  army  a  cry 
arose  that  the  Duke  was  slain.  "  I  live,"  shouted  William,  as  he  tore 
off  his  helmet,  "  and  by  God's  help  will  conquer  yet"  Maddened 
by  repulse,  the  Duke  spurred  right  at  the  Standard  ;  unhorsed,  his 
terrible  mace  struck  down  Gyrth,  the  King's  brother;  again  dismounted, 
a  blow  from  his  hand  hurled  to  the  ground  an  unmannerly  rider  who 
would  not  lend  him  his  steed.  Amidst  the  roar  and  tumult  of  the 
battle  he  turned  the  flight  he  had  arrested  into  the  means  of  victory. 
Broken  as  the  stockade  was  by  his  desperate  onset,  the  shield-wall  of 
the  warriors  behind  it  still  held  the  Normans  at  bay  till  William  by 
a  feint  of  flight  drew  a  part  of  the  English  force  from  their  post  of 
vantage.  Turning  on  his  disorderly  pursuers,  the  Duke  cut  them  to 
pieces,  broke  through  the  abandoned  line,  and  made  himself  master  of 
the  central  ground.  Meanwhile  the  French  and  Bretons  made  good 
their  ascent  on  either  flank.  At  three  the  hill  seemed  won,  at  six  the 
fight  still  raged  around  the  Standard,  where  Harold's  hus-carls  stood 
stubbornly  at  bay  on  a  spot  marked  afterwards  by  the  high  altar  of 
Battle  Abbey.  An  order  from  the  Duke  at  last  brought  his  archers  to 
the  front,  and  their  arrow-flight  told  heavily  on  the  dense  masses 
crowded  around  the  King.  As  the  sun  went  down  a  shaft  pierced 
Harold's  right  eye ;  he  fell  between  the  royal  ensigns,  and  the  battle 
closed  with  a  desperate  melly  over  his  corpse.  While  night  covered 
the  flight  of  the  English,  the  Conqueror  pitched  his  tent  on  the  very 
spot  where  his  rival  had  fallen,  and  "  sate  down  to  eat  and  drink 
among  the  dead." 

Securing  Romney  and  Dover,  the  Duke  marched  by  Canterbury 
upon  London.  Faction  and  intrigue  were  doing  his  work  for  him  as 
he  advanced.  Harold's  brothers  had  fallen  with  the  King  on  the  field 
of  Senlac,  and  there  was  none  of  the  house  of  Godwine  to  contest  the 
crown  ;  while  of  the  old  royal  line  there  remained  but  a  single  boy, 
Eadgar  the  Aiiheling,  son  of  the  eldest  of  Eadmund  Ironside's  children, 
who  had  fled  before  Cnut's  persecution  as  far  as  Hungary  for  shelter. 
Boy  as  he  was,  he  was  chosen  king  ;  but  the  choice  gave  little  strength 
to  the  national  cause.  The  widow  of  the  Confessor  surrendered 
Winchester  to  the  Duke.  The  bishops  gathered  at  London  inclined  to 
submission.  The  citizens  themselves  faltered  as  William,  passing  by 
their  walls,  gave  Southwark  to  the  flames.  The  throne  of  the  boy-king 
really  rented  for  support  on  the  Earls  of  Mercia  and  Norlhumbria, 
Eadwine  and  Morkcre  ;  and  William,  crossing  the  Thames  at  Walling- 
ford  and  marching  into  Hertfordshire,  threatened  to  cut  them  off  from 
their  earldoms.     The  masterly  movement  brought  about  an  instant 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


submission.  Eadwine  and  Morkere  retreated  hastily  home  from 
London,  and  the  city  gave  way  at  once.  Eadgar  himself  was  at  the 
head  of  the  deputation  who  came  to  offer  the  crown  to  the  Norman 
Duke.  "  They  bowed  to  him,"  says  the  English  annalist  pathetically, 
"  for  need."  They  bowed  to  the  Norman  as  they  had  bowed  to  the 
Dane,  and  William  accepted  the  crown  in  the  spirit  of  Cnut.  London 
indeed  was  secured  by  the  erection  of  a  fortress  which  afterwards  grew 
into  the  Tower,  but  William  desired  to  reign  not  as  a  conqueror  but  as 
a  lawful  king.  He  received  the  crown  at  Westminster  from  the  hands 
•of  Archbishop  Ealdred,  amidst  shouts  of  "Yea,  Yea,"  from  his  new 
English  subjects.  Fines  from  the  greater  landowners  atoned  for  a 
resistance  which  was  now  counted  as  rebellion  ;  but  with  this  excep- 
tion every  measure  of  the  new  sovereign  indicated  his  desire  of 
ruling  as  a  successor  of  Eadward  or  Alfred.  As  yet  indeed  the 
greater  part  of  England  remained  quietly  aloof  from  him,  and  he  can 
hardly  be  said  to  have  been  recognized  as  king  by  Northumberland 
or  the  greater  part  of  Mercia.  But  to  the  east  of  a  line  which 
stretch-ed  from  Norwich  to  Dorsetshire  his  rule  was  unquestioned, 
and  over  this  portion  he  ruled  as  an  English  king.  His  soldiers 
were  l.ept  in  strict  order.  No  change  was  made  in  law  or  custom. 
The  privileges  of  London  were  recognized  by  a  royal  writ  which  still 
remains,  the  most  venerable  of  its  muniments,  among  the  city's 
archives.  Peace  and  order  were  restored.  William  even  attempted, 
though  in  vain,  to  learn  the  English  tongue  that  he  might  personally 
administer  justice  to  the  suitors  in  his  court.  The  kingdom  seemed  so 
tranquil  that  only  a  few  months  had  passed  after  the  battle  of  Senlac 
when  William,  leaving  England  in  charge  of  his  brother,  Odo  Bishop 
of  Bayeux,  and  his  minister,  William  Fitz-Osbern,  returned  for  a  while 
to  Normandy. 

Section  V.— Tlie  Norman  Conquest,  1068— 1071. 

\^Authorities. — The  Norman  writers  as  before,  Orderic  being  particularly 
raluable  and  detailed.  The  Chronicle  and  Florence  of  Worcester  are  the  pri- 
mary English  authorities  (for  the  s'^-called  "  Ingulf  of  Croyland"  is  a  forgery 
of  the  14th  century).  Domesday  Bo(  )k  is  of  course  indispensable  for  the  Norman 
settlement ;  the  introduction  to  it  by  Sir  Henry  Ellis  gives  a  brief  account  of 
its  chief  results.  Among  secondary  authorities  Simeon  of  Durham  is  useful  for 
northern  matter-^,  and  William  of  Malmesbury  valuable  from  his  remarkable 
combination  of  Norman  and  English  feeling.  The  Norman  Constitution  is 
described  at  length  by  Lingard,  but  best  studied  in  the  Constitutional  History 
and  Select  Charters  of  Dr.  Stubbs.  The  "  Anglia  Judaica "  of  Toovey 
gives  some  account  of  the  Jewish  colonies.  For  the  history  as  a  whole,  see 
Mr.  Freeman's  "Norman  Conquest,"  vol.  iv.] 

It  is  not  to  his  victory  at  Senlac,  but  to  the  struggle  which  followed 
his  return  from  Normandy,  that  William  owes  his  title  of  the  "  Con- 
queror."    During  his  absence  Bishop  Odo's  tyranny  had  forced  the 


82 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


Jr.. 


Kentishmen  to  seek  aid  from  Count  Eustace  of  Boulogne  ;  while  the 
Welsh  princes  supported  a  similar  rising  against  Norman  oppresiion 
in  the  west.  But  as  yet  the  bulk  of  the  land  held  fairly  to  the  new 
king.  Dover  was  saved  from  Eustace  ;  and  the  discontented  fled  ove. 
sea  to  seek  refuge  in  lands  as  far  off  as  Constantinople,  where  English- 
men from  this  time  formed  great  part  of  the  body-guard  or  Varangians 
of  the  Eastern  Emperors.  William  returned  to  lake  his  place  again 
as  an  English  King.  It  was  with  an  English  force  that  he  subdued 
a  rising  in  the  south-west  led  by  Exeter,  and  it  was  at  the  head 
of  an  English  army  that  he  complete:!  his  work  by  marching  to  the 
North.  His  march  brought  Eadwine  and  Morkere  again  to  submission  ; 
a  fresh  rising  ended  in  the  occupation  of  York,  and  England  as  fir  as 
the  Tees  lay  quietly  at  William's  feet 

It  was  in  fact  only  the  national  revolt  of  1068  that  transformed  the 
King  into  a  Conqutror.  The  signal  for  .his  revolt  came  from  without. 
Swein,  the  king  of  Denmark,  had  for  two  years  been  preparing 
to  dispute  England  with  the  Norman,  and  on  the  appearance  of  hir, 
fleet  in  the  H umber  all  northern,  all  western  and  south-western  England 
rose  as  one  man.  Eadgar  the  i^theling  with  a  band  of  exiles  who 
had  taken  refuge  in  Scotland  took  the  head  of  the  Northumbrian 
revolt  ;  in  the  south-west  the  men  of  Devon,  Somerset,  and  Dorset 
gathered  to  the  sieges  of  Exeter  and  Montacute  ;  while  a  new  Norman 
castle  at  Shrewsbury  alone  bridled  a  rising  in  the  west.  So  ably  had 
the  revolt  been  planned  that  eve  1  William  was  taken  by  surprise. 
The  news  of  the  loss  of  York  and  of  the  slaughter  of  three  thousand 
Normans  who  formed  its  j^arrison  reached  him  as  he  was  huntmg  in 
the  Forest  of  Dean  ;  and  in  a  wild  outburst  of  wrath  the  king  swi>re 
"  by  the  splendour  of  God  "  to  avenge  himself  on  the  North.  But  wrath 
went  hand  in  hand  with  the  coolest  statesmanship.  William  saw  clearly 
that  the  centre  of  resistance  lay  in  the  Danish  fleet,  and  pushing 
rapidly  to  the  Humber  with  a  handful  of  horsemen,  he  purchased  by  a 
heavy  bribe  its  inactivity  and  withdrawal.  Then  leaving  York  to  the 
last,  William  turned  rapidly  westward  with  t^e  troops  which  gathered 
round  him,  and  swept  the  Welsh  border  as  far  as  Shrewsbury,  while 
William  Fitz-Osbern  broke  the  rising  round  Exeter.  His  success  set 
the  king  free  to  fulfil  his  oath  of  vengeance  on  the  North.  After  a  long 
delay  before  the  flooded  waters  of  the  Aire  he  entered  York,  and 
ravaged  the  whole  country  as  far  as  the  Tees  with  fire  and  sword. 
Town  and  village  were  harried  and  burnt,  their  inhabitants  slain  or 
driven  over  the  Scotch  border.  The  coast  was  especially  wasted  that 
no  hold  might  remain  for  any  future  invasion  of  the  Danes.  Harvest, 
cattle,  the  very  implements  of  husbandry  were  so  mercilessly  destroyed 
that  the  famine  which  followed  is  said  to  have  swept  off  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand  victims,  and  half  a  century  later  the  land  still  lay 
bare  of  culture  and  deserted  of  men  for  sixty  miles  northward  of  York 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


83 


Thje  /york  of  vengeance  was  no  sooner  over  than  William  led  his 
army  back  from  the  Tees  to  York,  and  thence  to  Chester  and  the 
Wef;.  Never  had  he  shown  the  grandeur  of  his  character  so  memor- 
Mi\y  as  in  this  terrible  march.  The  winter  was  severe,  the  roads 
choked  with  snowdrifts  or  broken  by  torrents  ;  provisions  failed,  and 
the  army,  drenched  with  rain  and  forced  to  consume  its  horses  for 
food,  broke  out  into  open  mutiny  at  the  order  to  advance  across  the 
bleak  moorlands  that  part  Yorkshire  from  the  West.  The  merce- 
naries from  Anjou  and  Britanny  demanded  their  release  from  service, 
and  William  granted  their  prayer  with  scorn.  On  foot,  at  the  head  of 
the  troops  which  remained  faithful,  the  King  forced  his  way  by  paths 
inaccessible  to  horses,  often  aiding  his  men  with  his  own  hands  to 
clear  the  road.  The  last  hopes  of  the  EngHs'i  ceased  on  his  arrival 
at  Chester  ;  the  King  remained  undisputed  master  of  the  conquered 
country,  and  busied  himself  in  the  erection  of  numerous  castles  which 
were  henceforth  to  hold  it  in  subjection.  Two  years  passed  quietly 
ere  the  last  act  of  the  conquest  was  reached.  By  the  withdrawal  of 
the  Dane  the  hopes  of  England  rested  wholly  on  t^e  aid  it  looked  for 
from  Scotland,  where  Eadgar  the  yEtheling  had  taken  refuge,  and 
where  his  sis;er  Margaret  had  become  the  wife  of  King  Malcolm.  It 
was  probably  some  assurance  of  Malcolm's  aid  which  roused  Eadwine 
and  Morkere  to  a  new  revolt,  which  was  at  once  foiled  by  the  vigilance 
of  the  Conqueror.  Eadwine  fell  in  an  obscure  skirmish,  while  Morkere 
found  refuge  for  a  time  in  the  marshes  of  the  eastern  counties,  where 
a  desperate  b  md  of  patriots  gathered  round  an  outlawed  leader, 
Hereward.  Nowhere  had  William  found  so  stubborn  a  resistance  ;  but 
a  causeway  two  miles  long  was  at  last  driven  across  the  fens,  and  the 
last  hopjs  of  English  freedom  died  in  the  surrender  of  Ely.  Malcolm 
;JonG  held  out  till  the  Conqueror  summoned  the  whole  host  of  the 
crown,  and  crossing  the  Lowlands  and  the  P'orth  penetrated  into  the 
heart  of  Scotland.  He  had  reached  the  Tay  when  the  king's  resistance 
gave  way,  and  Malcolm  appeared  in  the  English  camp  and  swore  fealty 
at  William' s  feet. 

The  struggle  which  ended  in  the  fens  of  Ely  had  wholly  changed 
William's  position.  He  no  longer  held  the  land  merely  as  elected  king, 
he  added  to  his  elective  right  the  right  of  conquest.  The  system  of 
government  which  he  originated  was,  in  fact,  the  result  of  the  double 
character  of  his  power.  It  represented  neither  the  purely  feudal  system 
of  the  Continent  nor  the  system  of  the  older  English  royalty.  More 
truly  perhaps  it  may  hi  said  to  have  represented  both.  As  the 
successor  of  EadwarJ,  William  retained  the  judicial  and  administrative 
organization  of  the  older  Englidi  realm.  As  the  conqueror  of  England 
he  introduced  the  military  organization  of  feudalism  so  far  as  was 
necessary  for  the  secure  possession  of  his  conquests.  The  ground 
was  already  prepared  for  such  an  organization  ;   we  have  seen  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


beginnings  of  English  feudalism  in  the  warriors,  the  "  companions  "  or 
"  thegns  "  who  were  personally  attached  to  the  king's  war-band,  and 
received  estates  from  the  folk-land  in  reward  for  their  personal 
services.  In  later  times  this  feudal  distribution  of  estates  had  greatly 
increased,  as  the  bulk  of  the  nobles  followed  the  king's  example  and 
bound  their  tenants  to  themselves  by  a  similar  process  of  subin- 
feudation. On  the  other  hand,  the  pure  freeholders,  ihe  class  which 
formed  the  basis  of  the  original  English  society,  had  been  gradually 
reduced  in  number,  partly  through  imitation  of  the  class  above  them, 
but  still  more  through  the  incessant  wars  and  invasions  which  drove 
them  to  seek  protectors  among  the  thegns  at  the  cost  of  t  ^.eir  indepen- 
dence. Feudalism,  in  fact,  was  superseding  the  older  freedom  in 
England  even  before  the  reign  of  William,  as  it  had  already  superseded 
it  in  Germany  or  France.  But  the  tendency  was  quickened  and  inten- 
sified by  the  Conquest  ;  the  desperate  and  universal  resistance  of  his 
English  subjects  forced  William  to  hold  by  the  sword  what  the  sword 
had  won,  and  an  army  strong  enough  to  crush  at  any  moment  a 
national  revolt  was  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  his  throne.  Such 
an  army  could  only  be  maintained  by  a  vast  confiscation  of  the  soil. 
The  failure  of  the  English  risings  cleared  the  way  for  its  establish- 
ment ;  the  greater  part  of  the  higher  nobility  fell  in  battle  or  fled  into 
exile,  while  the  lower  r'legnhood  either  forfeited  the  whole  of  their 
lands  or  redeemed  a  portion  of  them  by  the  surrender  of  the  rest.  We 
see  the  completeness  of  the  confiscation  in  the  vast  estates  which 
William  was  enabled  to  grant  to  his  more  powerful  followers.  Two 
hundred  manors  in  Kent,  with  an  equal  number  elsewhere,  rewarded 
the  services  of  his  brother  (  do,  and  grants  almost  as  large  fell  to 
William's  counsellors,  Fitz-Osbern  and  Montgomery,  or  to  barons  like 
the  Mowbrays  and  the  Clares.  But  the  poorest  soldier  of  fortune 
f  jund  his  part  in  the  spoil.  The  meanest  Norman  rose  to  wealth  and 
power  in  the  new  dominion  of  his  lord.  Great  or  snail,  however, 
each  estate  thus  granted  was  granted  on  condition  of  its  holder's 
service  at  the  king's  call ;  and  when  the  larger  holdings  were  divided 
by  their  ow  ers  into  smaller  sub-tenancies,  the  under-tenants  were 
bound  by  the  same  conditions  of  service  to  their  lord.  "  Hear,  my 
lord,"  swore  the  feudal  dependant,  as  kneeling  without  arms  and  bare- 
headed he  pi  ced  his  hands  within  those  of  his  superior :  "  I  become 
liege  man  of  yours  for  life  and  limb  and  earthly  regard,  and  I  will  keep 
faith  and  loyalty  to  you  for  life  and  death,  God  help  me."  The  kiss  of 
his  lord  invested  him  with  land  or  "fief"  to  de  cend  to  him  and  his 
heirs  for  ever.  A  whole  army  was  by  this  means  encamped  upon  the 
soil,  and  William's  summons  could  at  any  moment  gather  an  over> 
whelming  force  around  his  standard. 

Such  a  force  however,  effective  as  it  was  against  the  conquered, 
was  hardly  lees  formidable  to  the  Crown  itself.     William  found  himself 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


85 


fronted  in  his  new  realm  by  the  feudal  baronage  whom  he  had  so 
hardly  subdued  to  his  will  in  Normandy,  nobles  impatient  of  law,  as 
jealous  of  the  royal  power,  and  as  eager  for  unbridled  military  and 
judicial  independence  within  their  own  manors  here  as  there.  The 
genius  of  the  Conqueror  was  shown  in  his  quick  discernment  of  this 
danger,  and  in  the  skill  with  which  he  met  it.  He  availed  himself  of 
the  old  legal  constitution  of  the  country  to  hold  justice  firmly  in  his  own 
hands.  He  retained  the  local  courts  of  the  hundred  and  the  shire, 
where  every  freeman  had  a  place,  while  he  subjected  all  to  the  juris- 
diction of  the  King's  Court,  which  towards  the  close  of  the  earlier 
English  monarchy  had  assumed  the  right  of  hearing  appeals  and  of 
calling  up  cases  from  any  quarter  to  its  bar.  The  authority  of  the 
crown  was  maintained  by  the  abolition  of  the  great  earldoms  which 
had  overshadowed  it,  those  of  Wessex,  Mercia,  and  Northumberland, 
and  by  the  royal  nomination  of  sheriffs  for  the  government  of  the 
shires.  Large  as  the  estates  he  granted  were,  they  were  scattered  over 
the  country  in  a  way  which  made  union  between  the  landowners,  or 
the  hereditary  attachment  of  great  masses  of  vassals  to  a  separate  lord, 
equally  impossible.  In  other  countries  a  vassal  owed  fealty  to  his  lord 
against  all  foes,  be  they  king  or  no.  By  a  usage  however  which 
\\  illiam  enacted,  and  which  was  peculiar  to  England,  each  sub-tenant, 
in  addition  to  his  oath  of  fealty  to  his  lord,  swore  fealty  directly  to  the 
Crown,  and  loyalty  to  the  King  was  thus  established  as  the  supreme 
and  universal  duty  of  all  Englishmen.  The  feudal  obligations,  too, 
the  rights  and  dues  owing  from  each  estate  to  the  King,  were  enforced 
with  remarkable  strictness.  Each  tenant  was  bound  to  appear  if 
needful  thrice  a  year  at  the  royal  court,  to  pay  a  heavy  fine  or  rent  on 
succession  to  his  estate,  to  contribute  an  "aid"  in  money  in  case  of 
the  King's  capture  in  war,  or  the  knighthood  of  the  King's  eldest  son, 
or  the  marriage  of  his  eldest  daughter.  An  heir  who  was  still  a  minor 
passed  into  the  crown's  wardship,  and  all  profit  from  his  estate  went 
for  the  time  to  the  King.  If  the  estate  devolved  upon  an  heiress,  her 
hand  was  at  the  King's  disposal,  and  was  generally  sold  to  the  highest 
bidder.  Over  the  whole  face  of  the  land  most  manors  were  burthened 
with  their  own  "  customs,"  or  special  dues  to  the  Crown  :  and  it  was 
for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  and  recording  these  that  William  sent 
into  each  county  the  commissioners  whose  inquiries  are  preserved  in 
Domesday  Book.  A  jury  empanelled  in  each  hundred  declared  on 
oath  the  extent  and  nature  of  each  estate,  the  names,  number,  con- 
dition of  its  inhabitants,  its  value  before  and  after  the  Conquest,  and 
the  sums  due  from  it  to  the  Crown. 

William  found  another  check  on  the  aggressive  spirit  of  the  feudal 
baronage  in  his  organization  (  f  the  Church.  One  of  his  earliest  acts 
was  to  summon  Lanfranc  from  Normandy  to  aid  him  in  its  reform;  and 
the  deposition  of  Stigand,  which  raised  Lanfranc  to  the  see  of  Canter- 


86 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAK 


Sec.  V. 
Thk 

WoKMAN 
Co#<(^UEST 

1068 

1071 


Settle- 
ment of 
tlitt  JeixTB 


bury,  was  followed  by  the  removal  of  most  of  the  English  prelates  and 
abbots,  and  by  the  appointment  of  Norman  ecclesiastics  in  their  place. 
The  new  archbishop  did  much  to  restore  discipline,  and  William's  own 
efforts  were  no  doubt  partly  directed  by  a  real  desire  for  the  religious 
improvement  of  his  realm.  "In  choosing  abbots  and  bishops,"  says 
a  contemporary,  "  he  considered  not  so  much  men's  riches  or  power  as 
their  holiness  and  wisdom.  He  called  togjether  bishops  and  abbots 
and  other  wise  counsellors  in  ;my  vacancy,  and  by  their  advice  inquired 
very  carefully  who  was  the  best  and  wisest  man,  as  well  in  divine 
things  as  in  worldly,  to  rule  the  Church  of  God.''  But  honest  as  they 
were,  the  King's  reforms  tended  directly  to  the  increase  of  the  royal 
power.  The  new  bishops  and  abbo;s  were  cut  off  by  their  foreign 
origin  from  the  flocks  they  ruled,  while  their  popular  influence  was 
lessenefd  by  the  removal  of  ecclesiastical  cases  from  shire  or  hun- 
dred-court, where  the  bishop  had  sat  side  by  side  with  the  civil 
magistral e,  to  the  separate  court  of  the  bishop  himself.  The  change 
was  pre  n:»nt  with  future  trouble  to  the  Crown  ;  but  for  the  moment  it 
told  m  inly  in  removin  ;  the  bishop  from  his  traditional  contact  with 
the  ]  opular  assembly,  and  in  effacing  the  memory  of  the  original 
equality  of  the  religious  with  the  civil  power.  The  dependence  of 
the  Church  on  the  royal  power  was  strictly  enforced.  Homage  was 
exacted  from  bishop  as  from  baron.  No  royal  tenant  could  be  excom- 
municated without  the  King's  leave.  No  synod  could  legislate  without 
his  previous  assent  and  subsequent  confirmation  of  its  decrees.  No 
papal  letters  could  be  received  within  the  realm  save  by  his  permis- 
sion. William  firmly  repudiated  the  claims  which  were  now  beginning 
to  be  put  forward  by  the  court  of  Rome.  When  Gregory  VII.  called 
on  him  to  do  fealty  for  his  realm,  the  King  sternly  refused  to  admit 
the  claim.  "  Fealty  I  have  never  willed  to  do,  nor  do  I  will  to  do  it 
now.  I  have  never  promised  it,  nor  do  1  find  that  my  predecessorr 
did  it  to  yours." 

I^ut  the  greatest  safeguard  of  the  crown  lay  in  the  wealth  ana 
personal  power  of  the  kings.  Extensive  as  had  been  his  grants  to 
noble  and  soldier,  Willium  remained  the  greatest  landowner  in  his 
realm.  I  lis  rigid  exaction  of  feudal  dues  added  wealth  to  the  great 
Hoard  at  Winchester,  which  had  been  begun  by  the  spoil  of  the  con- 
quered. Hut  William  found  a  more  ready  source  of  revenue  in  the 
settlement  of  the  Jewish  traders,  who  followed  him  from  Normandy, 
and  who  were  enabled  by  the  royal  protection  to  establish  themselves 
in  separate  quarters  or  "  Jewries  "  of  the  chief  towns  of  England.  The 
Jew  had  no  right  or  citizenship  in  the  land  ;  the  Jewry  in  which  he 
lived  was,  like  the  King's  forest,  exempt  from  the  co  nmon  law.  He 
was  simj)ly  the  King's  chattel,  and  his  life  and  goods  were  absolutely 
at  the  King's  mercy.  I  hit  he  was  too  valuable  a  possession  to  be 
lightly  thrown   away.     A  royal  justiciary  secured  law  to  the  Jewish 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


87 


merchant,  who  had  no  standing-ground  in  the  local  courts  ;  his  bonds 
were  deposited  for  safety  in  a  chamber  of  the  royal  palace  at  West- 
minster ;  he  was  protected  against  the  popular  hatred  in  the  free 
exercise  of  his  religion,  and  allowed  to  build  synagogues  and  to  direct 
his  own  ecclesiastical  affairs  by  means  of  a  chief  Rabbi.  That  the 
presence  of  the  Jew  was,  at  leist  in  the  earlier  years  of  his  settlement, 
beneficial  to  t^^e  kingdom  at  large  there  can  be  little  doubt.  His 
arriv.  1  was  the  arrival  of  a  capitalist  ;  and  heavy  as  was  the  usury  he 
necessarily  exacted  in  the  general  insecurity  of  the  time,  his  loans  gave 
an  impulse  to  industry  such  as  England  had  never  felt  before.  The 
century  which  followed  the  Conquest  witnessed  an  outburst  of  archi- 
tectural energy  which  covered  the  land  with  castles  and'  cathedrals  ; 
but  castle  and  cathedral  alike  owed  their  existence  to  the  loans  of  the 
Jew.  His  own  examj;le  gave  a  new  direction  to  domestic  architecture. 
The  buildings  which,  as  at  Lincoln  and  S.  Edmundsbury,  still  retain 
their  title  of  "Jews'  Houses"  were  almost  the  first  houses  of  stone 
which  superseded  the  mere  hovels  of  the  English  burghers.  Nor  was 
the  influence  of  the  Jews  simply  industrial.  Through  their  connection 
with  the  Jewish  schools  in  Spain  and  the  East  they  opened  a  way  for 
the  revival  of  physical  science.  A  Jewish  medical  school  seems  to 
have  existed  at  Oxford  ;  Roger  Bacon  himself  studied  under  English 
Rabbis.  But  to  the  kings  the  Jew  was  simply  an  engine  of  finance. 
The  wealth  which  his  industry  accumulated  was  wrung  from  him  when- 
ever the  Crown  had  need,  and  torture  and  imprisonment  were  resorted 
to  if  milder  entreaties  failed.  It  was  the  gold  of  the  Jew  that  filled 
the  royal  exchequer  at  the  outbreak  of  war  or  of  revolt.  It  was  in 
the  Hebrew  coffers  that  the  Norman  kings  found  strength  to  hold  their 
baronage  at  bay. 

Section  VI.— The  English  Reviral,  1071-1127. 

\_/iuthori(ies. — Orderic  and  the  English  chroniclers,  as  before.  Eadmer,  a 
monk  of  Canterbury,  in  his  "  Historia  Novorum  "  and  his  "  Life  of  Anselm," 
is  the  chief  source  of  information  for  the  reign  of  William  the  Second,  William 
3f  Malmesbury  and  Henry  of  Huntingdon  are  both  contemporary  authorities 
during  that  of  Henry  the  First  :  the  latter  remains  a  brief  but  accurate  annalist ; 
the  former  is  the  leader  of  a  new  historic  school,  who  treat  English  events  as 
part  of  the  history  of  the  world,  and  emulate  classic  models  by  a  more  philo- 
sophical arrangement  of  their  materials.  See  for  them  the  opening  section  of 
the  next  chapter.  On  the  early  history  of  our  towns  the  reader  may  gain  some- 
thing from  Mr.  Thompson's  "English  Municipal  History  "  (London,  1857); 
more  from  the  "  Charter  Rolls  "  (published  by  the  Record  Commissioners) ;  for 
S.  Edmundsbury  see  "  Chronicle  of  Jocelyn  de  Brakelond  "  (Camden  Socie  y). 
The  records  of  the  Cistercian  Abbeys  of  Yorkshire  in  '*  Dugdale's  Monasticon," 
illustrate  the  religious  revival.  Henry's  administration  is  admir^ibly  explained 
for  the  first'time  by  Dr.  Stubbs  in  his  "  Constitutional  History."] 

The  Conquest  was  hardly  over  when  the  struggle  between  the 
baronage  and  the  Crown  began.     The  wisdom  of  William's  policy  in 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  destruction  of  the  great  earldoms  which  had  overshadowed  the 
throne  was  shown  in  an  attempt  at  their  restoration  made  by  Roger, 
the  son  of  his  minister  William  Fitz-Osbern,  and  by  the  Breton,  Ralf 
de  Guader,  whom  the  King  had  rewarded  for  his  services  at  Senlac 
with  the  earldom  of  Norfolk.  The  rising  was  quickly  suppressed, 
Roger  thrown  into  prison,  and  Ralf  driven  over  se.i ;  but  the  intrigues  of 
the  baronage  soon  found  another  leader  in  William's  half-brother,  the 
Bishop  of  Bayeux.  Under  pretence  of  aspiring  by  arms  to  the  papacy. 
Bishop  (  do  collected  money  and  men,  but  the  treasure  was  at  once 
seized  by  the  royal  officers,  and  the  Bishop  arrested  in  the  midst  of 
the  court.  Even  at  the  King's  bidding  no  officer  would  venture  to 
seize  on  a  prelate  of  the  Church  ;  it  was  with  his  own  hands  that 
William  was  forced  to  effect  his  arrest.  "  I  arrest  not  the  Bishop, 
but  the  Earl  of  Kent,"  laughed  the  Conqueror,  and  (  do  remained  a 
prisoner  till  William's  death.  It  was  in  fact  this  vigorous  personality 
of  William  which  proved  the  chief  safeguard  of  his  throne.  "  Stark 
he  was,"  says  the  English  chronicler,  "  to  men  that  withstood  him. 
Earls  that  did  aught  against  his  bidding  he  cast  into  bonds  ;  bishops 
he  stripped  of  their  bishopricks,  abbots  of  their  abbacies.  He  spared 
not  his  own  brother  :  first  he  was  in  the  land,  but  the  King  cast  him 
into  bondage.  If  a  man  would  live  and  hold  his  lands,  need  it  were 
that  he  followed  the  King's  will."  But  stern  as  his  rule  was,  it  gave 
peace  to  the  land.  Even  amidst  the  sufferings  which  necessarily  sprang 
from  the  circumstances  of  the  Conquest  itself,  from  the  erection  of 
castles,  or  the  enclosure  of  forests,  or  the  exactions  which  built  up  the 
great  hoard  at  Winchester,  Englishmen  were  unable  to  forget  "  the 
good  peace  he  made  in  the  land,  so  that  a  man  might  fare  over  his 
realm  with  a  bosom  full  of  gold.''  Strange  touches  of  a  humanity 
far  in  advance  of  his  age  contrasted  with  the  general  temper  of  his 
government.  One  of  the  strongest  traits  in  his  character  was  his  aver- 
sion to  shed  blood  by  process  of  law  ;  he  formally  abolished  the  punish- 
ment of  death,  and  only  a  single  execution  stains  the  annals  of  his  reign. 
An  edict  yet  more  honourable  to  him  put  an  end  to  the  slave-trade 
which  had  till  then  been  carried  on  at  the  port  of  Bristol.  The  pitiless 
warrior,  the  stern  and  aweful  king  was  a  tender  and  faithful  husband, 
an  affectionate  father.  The  lonely  silence  of  his  bearing  broke  into 
gracious  converse  with  pure  and  sacred  souls  like  Anselm.  If 
William  was  "stark"  to  rebel  and  baron,  men  noted  that  he  was 
**  mild  to  those  that  loved  God." 

In  power  as  in  renown  the  Conqueror  towered  high  above  his  pre- 
decessors on  the  throne.  The  fear  of  the  Danes,  which  had  so  long 
hung  like  a  thunder-cloud  over  England,  passed  away  before  the  host 
which  William  gathered  to  meet  a  great  armament  assembled  by  King 
Cnut.  A  mutiny  dispersed  the  Danish  fleet,  and  the  murder  of  its 
King  removed  all  peril  from  the  North.     Scotland,  already  humbled  by 


n.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


89 


William's  invasion,  was  bridled  by  the  erection  of  a  strong  fortress  at 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne  ;  and  after  penetrating  with  his  army  to  the 
heart  of  Wales,  the  King  commenced  its  systematic  reduction  by 
settling  barons  along  its  frontier.  It  was  not  till  his  closing  years 
that  his  unvarying  success  was  disturbed  by  a  rebellion  of  his  son 
Robert  and  a  quarrel  with  France  ;  as  he  rode  down  the  steep  street 
of  Mantes,  which  he  had  given  to  the  flames,  his  horse  stumbled 
among  the  embers,  and  William,  flung  heavily  against  his  saddle,  was 
borne  home  to  Rouen  to  die.  The  sound  of  the  minster  bell  woke  him 
at  dawn  as  he  lay  in  the  convent  of  St.  Gervais,  overlooking  the  city — 
it  was  the  hour  of  prime-- and  stretching  out  his  hands  in  prayer  the 
Conqueror  passed  quietly  away.  With  him  passed  the  terror  which 
had  held  the  baronage  in  awe,  while  the  severance  of  his  dominion  ■> 
roused  their  hopes  of  successful  resistance  to  the  stern  rule  beneath 
which  they  had  bowed.  William  bequeathed  Normandy  to  his  eldest 
son  Robert ;  William,  his  second  son,  hastened  with  his  fathers 
ring  to  England,  where  the  influence  of  Lanfranc  at  once  secured  him 
the  crown.  The  baronage  seized  the  opportunity  to  rise  in  arms  under 
pretext  of  supporting  the  claims  of  Robert,  whose  weakness  of  character 
gave  full  scope  for  the  growth  of  feudal  independence,  and  Bishop  Od  > 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  revolt.  The  new  King  was  thrown 
almost  wholly  on  the  loyalty  of  his  English  subjects.  But  the  national 
stamp  which  William  had  given  to  his  kingship  told  at  once.  Bishop 
Wulfstan  of  Worcester,  the  one  surviving  bishop  of  English  blood, 
defeated  the  insurgents  in  the  West  ;  while  the  king,  summoning  the 
freemen  of  country  and  town  to  his  host  under  pain  of  being  branded 
as  "nithing"  or  worthless,  advanced  with  a  large  force  against 
Rochester,  where  the  barons  were  concentrated.  A  plague  which 
broke  out  among  the  garrison  forced  them  to  capitulate,  and  as  the 
prisoners  passed  through  the  royal  army,  cries  of  "  gallows  and  cord  " 
burst  from  the  English  ranks.  At  a  later  period  of  his  reign  a  con- 
spiracy was  organized  to  place  Stephen  of  Albemarle,  a  near  cous'.n 
of  the  royal  house,  upon  the  throne  ;  but  the  capture  of  Robert 
Mowbray,  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  who  had  placed  himself  at  its 
head,  and  the  imprisonment  and  exile  of  his  fellow-conspirators,  again 
crushed  the  hopes  of  the  baronage. 

While  the  spirit  of  national  patriotism  rose  to  life  again  in  this 
struggle  of  the  crown  against  the  baronage,  the  boldness  of  a  single 
ecclesiastic  revived  a  national  opposition  to  the  mere  administrative 
despotism  which  now  pressed  heavily  on  the  land.  If  Wilham  the 
Red  inherited  much  of  his  father's  energy  as  well  as  his  policy  towards 
the  conquered  English,  he  inherited  none  of  his  moral  grandeur.  His 
profligacy  and  exuavagance  soon  exhausted  the  royal  hoard,  and  the 
death  of  Lanfranc  left  him  free  to  fill  it  at  the  expense  of  the  Church. 
During  the  vacancy  of  a  see  or  abbey  its  revenues  went  to  the  royal 


90 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
English 
Revival 

1071 

TO 

1127 

A  nselm 

A  rchbishop 

1093 


England 

and 

Henry 

Ihe  First 


Death  of  the 

Red  h'ing 

1 100 


treasury,  and  so  steadily  did  William  refuse  to  appoint  successors  to 
f.he  prelates  whom  death  removed,  that  at  the  close  of  his  reig^  one 
irchbishoprick,  four  bishopricks,  and  eleven  abbeys  were  founa  to  b< 
without  pastors.  The  see  of  Canterbury  itself  remained  vacant  till  a 
dangerous  illness  frightened  the  king  into  the  promotion  of  Anselm^ 
who  happened  at  the  time  to  be  in  England  on  the  business  of  his 
house.  The  Abbot  of  Bee  was  dragged  to  the  royal  couch  and  the 
cross  forced  into  his  hands,  but  William  had  no  sooner  recovered  from 
his  sickness  than  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  an  opponent  whose 
meek  and  loving  temper  rose  into  firmness  and  grandeur  when  it 
fronted  the  tyranny  of  the  King.  The  Conquest,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
robbed  the  Church  of  all  moral  power  as  the  representative  of  the 
higher  national  interests  against  a  brutal  despotism  by  placing  it  in  a 
position  of  mere  dependence  on  the  crown  ;  and  though  the  struggle 
between  William  and  the  archbishop  turned  for  the  most  part  on 
points  which  have  no  direct  bearing  on  our  history,  the  boldness  of 
Anselm's  attitude  not  only  broke  the  tradition  of  ecclesiastical  ser\'i- 
tude,  but  infused  through  the  nation  at  large  a  new  spirit  of  indepen- 
dence. The  real  character  of  the  contest  appears  in  the  Primate's 
answer,  when  his  remonstrances  against  the  lawless  exactions  from  the 
Church  w  re  met  by  a  demand  for  a  present  on  his  own  promotion,  ard 
his  first  offer  of  five  hundred  pounds  was  contemptuously  refused. 
"  Treat  me  as  a  free  man,"  Anselm  replied,  "  and  I  devote  myself  and 
all  that  I  have  to  your  service,  but  if  you  treat  me  as  a  slave  you  shall 
have  neither  me  nor  mine."  A  burst  of  the  Red  King's  fury  drove  the 
Archbishop  from  court,  and  he  finally  decided  to  quit  the  country,  but 
his  example  had  not  been  lost,  and  the  close  of  William's  reign  found 
a  new  spirit  of  freedom  in  England  with  which  the  greatest  of  the 
Conqueror's  sons  was  glad  to  make  terms. 

As  a  soldier  the  Red  King  was  little  inferior  to  his  father.  Normandy 
had  been  pledged  to  him  by  his  brother  Robert  in  exchange  for  a  sum 
which  enabled  the  Duke  to  march  in  the  first  Crusade  for  the  delivery 
of  the  Holy  Land,  and  a  rebellion  at  Le  Mans  was  subdued  by  the 
fierce  energy  with  which  William  flung  himself  at  the  news  of  it  into 
the  first  boat  he  found,  anc.  crossed  the  Channel  in  face  of  a  storm. 
"  Kings  never  drown,"  he  replied  coutomptuously  to  the  remonstrances 
of  his  followers.  Homage  was  agam  wrested  from  Malcolm  by  a 
march  to  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  the  subsequent  death  of  that  king 
threw  Scotland  inlo  a  disorder  which  enabled  an  army  under  Eadgar 
yliltheling  to  establish  Eadgar,  the  son  of  Margaret,  as  an  English 
feudatory  on  the  throne.  In  Wales  William  was  less  triumphant,  and 
the  terrible  losses  inflicted  on  the  heavy  Norman  cavalry  in  the 
fastnesses  of  Snov/don  forced  him  to  Tall  back  on  the  slower  but  wiser 
|)()licy  of  the  Conqueror.  Triumph  and  defeat  alike  ended  in  a  strange 
and  tragical  close ;  the  Red  King  was  found  dead  by  pea^^^  in  a  glade 


xi.l 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS, 


91 


of  the  New  Forest,  with  the  arrow  either  of  a  hunter  or  an  assassin  in 
his  breast,  Robert  was  still  on  his  return  from  the  Holy  Land,  where 
his  bravery  had  redeemed  much  of  his  earlier  ill-fame,  and  the 
English  crown  was  at  once  seized  by  his  younger  brother  Henry,  in 
spite  of  the  opposition  -^f  the  baronage,  who  clung  to  the  Duke  of 
Normandy  and  the  union  of  their  estates  on  both  sides  the  Channel 
under  a  single  rulen  Their  attitude  threw  Henry,  as  it  had  thrown 
Rufus,  on  the  support  of  the  English,  and  the  two  p^reat  measures 
which  followed  his  coronation,  his  grant  of  a  charter,  and  his  marriage 
with  Matilda,  mark  the  new  relation  which  was  thus  brought  about 
between  the  people  and  their  King.  Henry's  Charter  is  i  m  portant,  not 
merely  as  a  direct  precedent  for  the  Great  Charter  of  John,  but  as 
the  first  limitation  which  had  been  imposed  on  the  despotism  esta- 
blished by  the  Conquest.  The  "  evil  customs  "  by  which  the  Red  King 
had  enslaved  and  plundered  the  Church  were  explicitly  renounced  in 
it,  the  unlimited  demands  made  by  both  the  Conqueror  and  his  son  on 
the  baronage  exchanged  for  customary  fees,  while  the  rights  of  the 
people  itself,  though  recognized  more  vaguely,  were  not  forgotten. 
The  barons  were  held  to  do  justice  to  their  under-tenants  and  to  re- 
nounce tyrannical  exactions  from  them,  the  King  promising  to  restore 
order  and  the  "  law  of  Eadward,"  the  old  constitution  of  the  realm, 
with  the  changes  which  his  father  had  introduced.  His  marriage  gave 
a  significance  to  these  promises  which  the  meanest  English  peasant 
could  understand.  Edith,  or  Matilda,  was  the  daughter  of  King 
Malcolm  of  Scotland  and  of  Margaret,  the  sister  of  Eadgar  ^theling. 
She  had  been  brought  up  in  the  nunnery  of  Romsey  by  its  abbess,  her 
aunt  Christina,  and  the  veil  which  she  had  taken  there  formed  an 
obstacle  to  he*  union  with  the  King  which  was  only  removed  by  the 
wisdom  of  Anselm.  The  Archbishop's  recall  had  been  one  of  Henry's 
iirst  acts  after  his  accession,  and  Matilda  appeared  before  his  court  to 
tell  her  tale  in  words  of  passionate  earnestness.  She  had  been  veiled 
in  her  childhood,  she  asserted,  only  to  save  her  from  the  insults  of  the 
rude  soldiery  who  infested  the  land,  had  flung  the  veil  from  her  again 
and  again,  and  had  yielded  at  last  to  the  unwomanly  taunts,  the  actual 
blows  of  her  aunt.  "  As  often  as  I  stood  in  her  presence,"  the  girl 
pleaded,  "  I  wore  the  veil,  trembling  as  I  wore  it  with  indignation  and 
grief.  But  as  soon  as  I  could  get  out  of  her  sight  I  used  to  snatch  it 
from  my  head,  fling  it  on  the  ground,  and  trample  it  under  foot.  That 
was  the  way,  and  none  other,  in  which  I  was  veiled."  Anselm  at  once 
declared  her  free  from  conventual  bonds,  and  the  shout  of  the  English 
multitude  when  he  set  the  crown  on  Matilda's  brow  drowned  the  mur- 
mur of  Churchman  or  of  baron.  The  taunts  of  the  Norman  nobles,who 
nicknamed  the  King  and  his  spouse  "  Godric  and  Godgifu,"  were  lost 
in  the  joy  of  the  people  at  large.  For  the  first  time  smce  the  Conquest 
an  English  sovereign  sat  on  the  English  throne.    The  bJood  of  Cerdic 


92 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


and  i^lfred  was  to  blend  itself  with  that  of  Hrolf  and  the  Conqueror. 
Henceforth  it  was  impossible  that  the  two  peoples  should  remain 
parted  from  each  other  ;  so  quick  indeed  was  their  union  that  the 
very  name  of  Norman  had  passed  away  in  half  a  century,  and  at 
the  accession  of  Henry's  grandson  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish 
between  the  descendants  of  the  conquerors  and  those  of  the  con- 
quered at  Senlac. 

We  can  dimly  trace  the  progress  of  this  blending  of  the  two  races 
together  in  the  case  of  the  burgher  population  in  the  towns. 

One  immediate  result  of  the  Conquest  had  been  a  great  immigration 
into  England  from  the  Continent.  A  peaceful  invasion  of  the  indus- 
trial and  trading  classes  of  Normandy  followed  quick  on  the  conquest 
of  the  Norman  soldiery.  Every  Norman  noble  as  he  quartered  himself 
upon  English  lands,  every  Norman  abbot  as  he  entered  his  English 
cloister,  gathered  French  artists  or  French  domestics  around  his  new 
castle  or  his  new  church.  Around  the  Abbey  of  Battle,  for  instance, 
which  William  had  founded  on  the  site  of  his  great  victory,  "  Gilbert 
the  Foreigner,  Gilbert  the  Weaver,  Benet  the  Steward,  Hugh  the 
Secretary,  Baldwin  the  Tailor,"  mixed  with  the  English  tenantry. 
More  especially  was  this  the  case  with  the  capital.  Long  before  the 
landing  of  William,  the  Normans  had  had  mercantile  establishments 
in  London.  Such  settlements  however  naturally  formed  nothing  more 
than  a  trading  colony  ;  but  London  had  no  sooner  submitted  to  the 
Conqueror  than  "  many  of  the  citizens  of  Rouen  and  Caen  passed  over 
thither,  preferring  to  be  dwellers  in  this  city,  inasmuch  as  it  was  fitter 
for  their  trading  and  better  stored  with  the  merchandize  in  which  they 
were  wont  to  traffic."  In  some  cases,  as  at  Norwich,  the  French  colony 
isolated  itself  in  a  separate  French  town,  side  by  side  with. the  English 
borough.  But  in  London  it  seems  to  have  taken  at  once  the  position 
of  a  governing  class.  Gilbert  Beket,  the  father  of  the  famous  arch- 
bishop, was  believed  in  later  days  to  have  been  one  of  the  portreeves 
of  London,  the  predecessors  of  its  mayors  ;  he  held  in  Stephen's  time 
a  large  property  in  houses  within  the  walls,  and  a  proof  of  his  civic 
importance  was  preserved  in  the  annual  visit  of  each  newly-elected 
chief  magistrate  to  his  tomb  in  the  little  chapel  which  he  had  founded 
in  the  churchyard  of  S.  Paul's.  Yet  Gilbert  was  one  of  the  Norman 
strangers  who  followed  in  the  wake  of  the  Conqueror  ;  he  was  by  birth 
a  burgher  of  Rouen,  as  his  wife  was  of  a  burgher  family  from  Caen. 

It  was  partly  to  this  infusion  of  foreign  blood,  partly  no  doubt  to  the 
long  internal  peace  and  order  secured  by  the  Norman  rule,  that  the 
English  towns  owed  the  we.ilth  and  importance  to  which  they  attained 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  the  First.  In  the  silent  growth  and  eleva- 
tion of  the  English  people  the  boroughs  led  the  way :  unnoticed  and 
despised  by  prelate  and  noble  they  had  alone  preserved  or  won  back 
again  the  full  tradition  of  Teutonic  liberty.     The  rights  of  self-govern- 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


93 


ment,  of  free  speech  in  free  meeting,  of  equal  justice  by  one's  equals, 
were  brought  safely  across  the  ages  of  tyranny  by  the  burghers  and 
shopkeepers  of  the  towns.  In  the  quiet,  quaintly -named  streets, 
in  town-mead  and  market-place,  in  the  lord's  mill  beside  the  stream, 
in  the  bell  that  swung  out  its  summons  to  the  crowded  borough-mote, 
in  merchant-gild  and  church-gild  and  craft-gild,  lay  the  life  of  English- 
men who  were  doing  more  than  knight  and  baron  to  make  England 
what  she  is,  the  life  of  their  home  and  their  trade,  of  their  sturdy 
battle-  with  oppression,  their  steady,  ceaseless  struggle  for  right  and 
freedom.  It  is  difficult  to  trace  the  steps  by  which  borough  after 
borough  won  its  freedom.  The  bulk  of  them  were  situated  in  the 
royal  demesne,  and,  like  other  tenants,  their  customary  rents  were 
collected  and  justice  administered  by  a  royal  officer.  Amongst  our 
towns  London  stood  chief,  and  the  charter  which  Henry  granted  it 
became  the  model  for  the  rest.  The  King  yielded  the  citizens  the  right 
of  justice  :  every  townsman  could  claim  to  be  tried  by  his  fellow- 
townsmen  in  the  town- court  or  hustings,  whose  sessions  took  place 
every  week.  They  were  subject  only  to  the  old  English  trial  by  oath, 
and  exempt  from  the  trial  by  battle  which  the  Normans  had  intro- 
duced. Their  trade  was  protected  from  toll  or  exaction  over  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  The  King  however  still  nominated  in 
London  as  elsewhere  the  portreeve,  or  magistrate  of  the  town,  nor 
were  the  citizens  as  yet  united  together  in  a  commune  or  corporation  ; 
but  an  imperfect  civic  organization  existed  in  the  "  wards"  or  quarters 
of  the  town,  each  governed  by  its  own  alderman,  and  in  the  "gilds" 
or  voluntary  associations  of  merchants  or  traders  which  ensured  order 
and  mutual  protection  for  their  members.  Loose  too  as  these  bonds 
may  seem,  they  were  drawn  firmly  together  by  the  older  English  tradi- 
tions of  freedom  which  the  towns  preserved.  In  London,  for  instance, 
the  burgesses  gathered  in  town-mote  when  th2  bell  swung  out  from 
S.  Paul's  to  deliberate  freely  on  their  own  affairs  under  the  presidency 
of  their  aldermen.  Here  too  they  mustered  in  arms  if  danger 
threatened  the  city,  and  delivered  the  city-banner  to  their  captain,  the 
Norman  baron  Fitz-Walter,  to  lead  them  against  the  enemy.  Few 
boroughs  had  as  yet  attained  to  power  such  as  this,  but  charter  after 
charter  during  Henry's  reign  raised  the  townsmen  of  boroughs  from 
mere  traders,  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  their  lord,  into  customary  tenants, 
who  had  purchased  their  freedom  by  a  fixed  rent,  regulated  their  own 
trade,  and  enjoyed  exemption  from  all  but  their  own  justice. 

The  advance  of  towns  which  had  grown  up  not  on  the  royal  domain 
but  around  abbey  or  castle  was  slower  and  more  difficult.  The  story 
of  S.  Edmundsbury  shows  how  gradual  was  the  transition  from  pure 
serfage  to  an  imperfect  freedom.  Much  that  had  been  plough-land  in 
the  time  of  the  Confessor  was  covered  with  houses  under  the  Norman 
rule.      Ihe  building  of  the  great  abbey  church  drew  its  craftsmen  and 


94 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


masons  to  mingle  with  the  ploughmen  and  reapers  of  the  Abbot's 
domain.  The  troubles  of  the  time  helped  here  as  elsewhere  the 
progress  of  the  town  ;  serfs,  fugitives  from  justice  or  their  lord,  the 
trader,  the  Jew,  naturally  sought  shelter  under  the  strong  hand  of 
S.  Edmund.  Hut  the  settlers  were  wholly  at  the  Abbot's  mercy.  Not 
a  settler  but  was  bound  to  pay  his  pence  to  the  Abbot's  treasury,  to 
plough  a  rood  of  his  land,  to  reap  in  his  harvest-field,  to  fold  his  sheep 
in  the  Abbey  fold.,  to  help  bring  the  annual  catch  of  eels  from  the 
Abbey  waters.  Within  the  four  crosses  that  bounded  the  Abbot's 
domain  land  and  water  were  his  ;  the  cattle  of  the  townsmen  paid  for 
their  pasture  on  the  common  ;  if  the  fullers  refused  the  loan  of  their 
cloth,  the  cellarer  would  refuse  the  use  of  the  stream,  and  seize  their 
cluihs  wherever  he  found  them.  No  toll  might  be  levied  from  tenants 
of  the  Abbey  farms,  and  customers  had  to  wait  before  shop  and 
stall  till  the  buyers  of  the  Abbot  had  had  the  f-i^jk  of  the  market. 
There  was  little  chance  of  redress,  for  if  burghers  complained  in  folk- 
moie,  it  was  before  the  Abbot's  officers  that  its  meeting  was  held  ;  if 
they  appealed  to  the  alderman,  he  was  t'le  Abbot's  nominee,  and 
received  the  horn,  the  symbol  of  his  office,  at  the  Abbot's  hands. 

Like  all  the  greater  revolutions  of  society,  the  advance  from  this  mere 
serfage  was  a  silent  one  ;  indeed  its  more  galling  instances  of  oppres- 
sion seem  to  have  slipped  unconsciously  away.  Some,  like  the  eel- 
fishing,  were  conmiuted  for  an  easy  rent ;  others,  like  the  slavery  of  the 
fullers  and  the  toll  of  flax,  simply  disappeared.  By  usage,  by  omission, 
by  downright  forgetfulness,  here  by  a  little  struggle,  there  by  a  present 
to  a  needy  abbot,  the  town  won  freedom.  But  progress  was  not  always 
unconscious,  and  one  incident  in  the  history  of  S.  Edmundsbur)'  is 
remarkable,  not  merely  as  indicating  the  advance  of  law,  but  yet 
more  as  marking  the  part  which  a  new  moral  sense  of  man's  right 
to  equal  justice  was  to  play  in  the  general  advance  of  the  realm. 
Rude  as  the  borough  was,  it  had  preserved  its  right  of  meeting  in 
full  assembly  of  the  townsmen  for  government  and  law.  Justice  was 
administered  in  presence  of  the  burgesses,  and  the  accused  acquitted 
or  condemned  by  the  oath  of  his  neighbours.  Without  the  borough 
bounds  however  the  system  of  the  Norman  judicature  prevailed  ;  and 
the  rural  tenants  who  did  suit  and  service  at  the  Cellerar's  court  were 
subject  to  the  decision  of  the  trial  by  battle.  The  execution  of  a  farme*- 
named  Ketel,  who  was  subject  to  this  feudal  jurisdiction,  brought  the 
two  systems  into  vivid  contrast.  He  seems  to  have  been  guiltless  of 
the  crime  laid  to  his  charge,  but  the  duel  went  against  him,  and  he  was 
hanged  just  without  the  gates.  The  taunts  of  the  townsmen  woke  his 
fellow- farmers  to  a  sense  of  wrong.  '*  Had  Ketel  been  a  dweller  within 
the  borough,"  said  the  burgesses,  "  he  would  have  got  his  acquittal 
from  the  o  ths  of  his  neighbours,  as  our  liberty  is  ;"  and  c\'cn  the 
monks  were  moved  to  a  decision  that  their  tenants  should  enjoy  equal 


tl.J 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS! 


95 


/iberty  and  justice  with  the  townsmen.  The  franchise  of  the  town  was 
extended  to  the  rural  possessions  of  the  Abbey  without  it  ;  the  farmers 
"came  to  the  toll-house,  were  written  in  the  alderman's  roll,  and  paid 
the  town-penny." 

The  moral  revolution  which  events  like  this  indicate  was  bac'.ed  by 
a  religious  revival  which  forms  a  marked  feature  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
the  First.  Pious,  learned,  and  energetic  as  the  bishops  of  William's 
appointment  had  been,  they  were  not  Englishmen.  Till  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  First  no  Englishman  occupied  an  English  see.  In  language, 
in  manner,  in  sympathy,  the  higher  clergy  were  completely  severed 
from  the  lower  priesthood  and  the  people,  and  the  severance  went 
far  to  paralyze  the  constitutional  influence  of  the  Church.  Anselm  stood 
alone  against  Rufus,  and  when  Anselm  was  gone  no  voice  of  eccle- 
siastical freedom  broke  the  silence  of  the  reign  of  Henry  the  First 
But  at  the  close  of  Henry's  reign  and  throughout  that  of  Stephen, 
England  was  stirred  by  the  first  of  those  great  religious  movements 
which  it  was  afterwards  to  experience  in  the  preaching  of  the  Friars, 
the  Lollardism  of  Wyclif,  the  Reformation,  the  Puritan  enthusiasm, 
and  the  mission  work  of  the  Wesleys.  Everywhere  in  town  and 
country  men  banded  themselves  together  for  prayer  ;  hermits  flocked 
to  the  woods  ;  noble  and  churl  welcomed  the  austere  Cistercians,  a 
reformed  outshoot  of  the  Benedictine  order,  as  they  spread  over  the 
moors  and  forests  of  the  North.  A  new  spirit  of  devotion  woke  the 
slumber  of  the  religious  houses,  and  penetrated  alike  to  the  home  of 
the  noble  Walter  de  TEspec  at  Rievaulx,  or  of  the  trader  Gilbert 
Beket  in  Cheapside.  London  took  its  full  share  in  the  revival.  The 
city  was  proud  of  its  religion,  its  thirteen  conventual  and  more  than  a 
hundred  parochial  churches.  The  new  impulse  changed  its  very 
aspect.  In  the  midst  of  the  city  Bishop  Richard  busied  himself  with 
the  vast  cathedral  church  of  vS.  Paul  which  Bishop  Maurice  had 
begun  ;  barges  came  up  the  river  with  stone  from  Caen  for  the  great 
arches  that  moved  the  popular  wonder,  while  street  and  lane  were 
being  levelled  to  make  space  for  its  famous  churchyard.  Ivahere,  the 
King's  minstrel,  raised  the  Priory  of  S.  Bartholomew  beside  Smithfield. 
Alfune  built  S.  Giles's  at  Cripplegate.  The  old  English  Cnichtenagild 
surrendered  their  soke  of  Aldgate  as  a  site  for  the  new  priory  of  Holy 
Trinity.  The  tale  of  this  house  paints  admirably  the  temper  of  the 
citizens  at  the  time.  Its  founder.  Prior  Norman,  had  built  church  and 
cloister  and  bought  books  and  vestments  in  so  liberal  a  fashion  that  at 
last  no  money  remained  to  buy  bread.  The  canons  were  at  their  last 
gasp  when  many  of  the  city  folk,  looking  into  the  refectory  as  they 
paced  round  the  cloister  in  their  usual  Sunday  procession,  saw  the 
tables  laid  but  not  a  single  loaf  on  them.  "  Here  is  a  fine  set-out. ' 
cried  the  citizens,  "but  where  is  the  bread  to  come  from?"  The 
women  present  vowed  to  bring  a  loaf  every  Sunday,  and  there  was 


96 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


soon  bread  enough  and  to  spare  for  the  priory  and  its  priests.  We 
see  the  strength  of  the  new  movement  in  the  new  class  of  ecclesiastics 
that  it  forced  on  the  stage  ;  men  like  Anselm  or  John  of  Salisbury, 
or  the  two  great  prelates  who  followed  one  another  after  Henry's 
death  in  the  see  of  Canterbury,  Theobald  and  Thomas,  drew  what- 
ever influence  they  wielded  from  a  belief  in  their  holiness  of  life  and 
unselfishness  of  aim.  The  paralysis  of  the  Church  ceased  as  the 
new  impulse  bound  the  prelacy  and  people  together,  and  its  action, 
when  at  the  end  of  Henry's  reign  it  started  into  a  power  strong 
enough  to  save  England  from  anarchy,  has  been  felt  in  our  history 
ever  since. 

P'rom  this  revival  of  English  feeling  Henry  himself  stood  jealously 
aloof;  but  the  enthusiasm  which  his  marriage  had  excited  enabled 
him  to  defy  the  claims  of  his  brother  and  the  disaffection  of  his 
nobles.  Robert  landed  at  Portsmouth  to  find  himself  face  to  face 
with  an  English  army  which  Anselm's  summons  had  gathered  round 
the  King;  and  his  retreat  left  Henry  free  to  deal  sternly  with  the  rebel 
barons.  Robert  of  Belesme,  the  son  of  Roger  of  Montgomery,  was 
now  their  chief;  but  60,000  English  footmen  followed  the  king 
through  the  rough  passes  which  led  to  Shrewsbury,  and  an  early 
surrender  alone  saved  Robert's  life.  Master  of  his  own  realm  and  en- 
riched by  the  confiscated  lands  of  the  revolted  baronage,  Henry  crossed 
into  Normandy,  where  the  misgovernment  of  Robert  had  alienated 
the  clergy  :;nd  trades,  and  where  the  outrages  of  the  Norman  nobles 
forced  the  more  peaceful  classes  to  call  the  King  to  their  aid.  On  the 
field  of  Tenchebray  his  forces  met  those  of  the  Duke,  and  a  decisive 
English  victory  on  Norman  soil  avenged  the  shame  of  Hastings.  The 
conquered  duchy  became  a  dependency  of  the  English  crown,  and 
Henry's  energies  were  frittered  away  through  a  quarter  of  a  century  in 
crushing  its  revolts,  the  hostility  of  the  French,  and  the  efforts  of  his 
nephew,  William  the  son  of  Robert,  to  regain  the  crown  which  his 
father  had  lost  at  Tenchebray.  In  England,  however,  all  was  peace. 
The  vigorous  administration  of  Henry  the  First  completed  in  fullest 
detail  the  system  of  government  which  the  Conqueror  had  sketched. 
The  vast  estates  which  had  fallen  to  the  crown  through  revolt  and 
forfeiture  were  granted  out  to  new  men  dependent  on  royal  favour. 
On  the  ruins  of  the  great  feudatories  whom  he  had  crushed  the  King 
built  up  a  class  of  lesser  nobles,  whom  the  older  barons  of  the  Con- 
quest looked  down  on  in  scorn,  but  who  formed  a  counterbalancing 
force  and  furnished  a  class  of  useful  administrators  whom  Henry 
employed  as  his  sheriffs  and  judges.  A  new  organization  of  justice 
and  finance  bound  the  kingdom  together  under  the  royal  administra- 
tion. The  clerks  of  the  Royal  Chapel  were  formed  into  a  body  01 
secretaries  or  royal  ministers,  whose  head  bore  the  title  of  Chancellor 
Above  them  stood  the  Justiciar,  or  lieutenant-general  of  the  king- 


VI. 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


97 


dom,  who  in  the  frequent  absence  of  the  King  acted  as  Regent, 
and  whose  staff,  selected  from  the  barons  connected  with  the  royal 
household,  were  formed  into  a  Supreme  Court  of  the  realm.  The 
King's  Court,  as  this  was  called,  permanently  represented  the  whole 
court  of  royal  vassals,  which  had  hitherto  been  summoned  thrice  in 
the  year.  As  the  royal  council,  it  revised  and  registered  laws,  and  its 
"counsel  and  consent," though  merely  formal,  preserved  the  principle 
of  the  older  popular  legislation.  As  a  court  of  justice  it  formed  the 
highest  court  of  appeal :  it  could  call  up  any  suit  from  a  lower  tribunal 
on  the  application  of  a  suitor,  while  the  union  of  several  sheriffdoms 
under  some  of  its  members  connected  it  closely  with  the  local  courts. 
As  a  financial  body,  its  chief  work  lay  in  the  assessment  and  collection 
of  the  revenue.  In  this  capacity  it  took  the  name  of  the  Court  of 
Exchequer  from  the  chequered  table,  much  like  a  chess-board,  at 
which  it  sat,  and  on  which  accounts  were  rendered.  In  their  financial 
capacity  its  justices  became  "  barons  of  the  Exchequer."  Twice  every 
year  the  sheriff  of  each  county  appeared  before  these  barons  and  ren- 
dered the  sum  of  the  fixed  rent  from  royal  domains,  the  Danegeld  or 
land  tax,  the  fines  of  the  local  courts,  the  feudal  aids  from  the  baronial 
estates,  which  formed  the  chief  part  of  the  royal  revenue.  Local 
disputes  respecting  these  payments  or  the  assessment  of  the  town-rents 
were  settled  by  a  detachment  of  barons  fro  n  the  court  who  made  the 
circuit  of  the  shires,  and  whose  fiscal  visitations  led  to  the  judicial 
visitations,  the  "judges' circuits,"  which  slill  form  so  marked  a  feature 
in  our  legal  system. 

From  this  work  of  internal  reform  Henry's  attention  was  called  sud- 
denly by  one  terrible  loss  to  the  question  of  the  succession  to  the 
throne.  His  son  William  "  the  y^theling,"  as  the  English  fondly  styled 
the  child  of  their  own  Matilda,  had  with  a  crowd  of  nobles  accom- 
panied the  King  on  his  return  from  Normandy  ;  but  the  White  Ship 
in  which  he  had  embarked  lingered  behind  the  rest  of  the  royal  fleet 
while  the  young  nobles,  excited  with  wine,  hung  over  the  ship's  side 
and  chased  away  with  taunts  the  priest  who  came  to  give  the  customary 
benediction.  At  last  the  guards  of  the  King's  treasure  pressed  the 
vessel's  departure,  and,  driven  by  the  arms  of  fifty  rowers,  it  swept 
swiftly  out  to  sea.  All  at  once  the  ship's  side  struck  on  a  rock  at 
the  mouth  of  the  harbour,  and  in  an  instant  it  sank  beneath  the 
waves.  One  terrible  cry,  ringing  through  the  stillness  of  the  night,  was 
heard  by  the  royal  fleet  ;  but  it  was  not  till  the  morning  that  the  fatal 
news  reached  the  King.  He  fell  unconscious  to  the  ground,  and  rose 
never  to  smile  again.  Henry  had  no  other  son,  and  the  whole  circle  of 
his  foreign  foes  closed  round  him  the  more  fiercely  that  the  son  of 
Robert  was  now  his  natural  heir.  The  king  hated  William,  while  he 
loved  Matilda,  the  daughter  who  still  remained  to  him,  who  had  been 
married  to  the  Emperor  Henry  the  Fifth,  and  whose  husband  s  death 

£ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Sec.   VII. 
England 

AND 

Anjou 
870 

TO 

1154 


The 
Counts 
9f  AnJou 


now  restored  her  to  her  father.  He  recognized  her  as  his  heir,  though  the 
succession  of  a  woman  seemed  strange  to  the  feudal  baronage  ;  nobles 
and  priests  were  forced  to  swear  allegiance  to  her  as  their  future  mis- 
tress, and  Henry  affianced  her  to  the  son  of  the  one  foe  he  really 
feared,  Count  Fulk  of  Anjou. 


Section  VII.— Engrland  and  Ai^on,  870-1154.. 

[Aui/iori/us. — The  chief  documents  for  Angevin  liistory  have  been  collected 
in  the  "  Chroniques  d'Anjou,"  published  by  the  Historical  Society  of  France 
(Paris,  1856-1871).  The  best  knows  of  these  is  the  "Gesta  Consulum,"  a 
compilation  of  the  twelfth  century  (given  also  by  D'Achery,  "  Spicilegium,"  410. 
vol.  X.  p.  534),  in  which  the  earlier  romantic  traclitions  are  simply  dressed  up 
into  historical  shape  by  copious  quotations  from  the  French  historians.  Save 
for  the  reigns  of  Geoflfry  Martel,  and  Fulk  of  Jerusalem,  it  is  nearly  valueless. 

The  short  autobiography  of  Fulk  Kechin  is  the  most  authentic  memorial  of  the 
earlier  Angevin  history  ;  and  much  can  be  gleaned  from  the  verl>ose  life  of 
GejfTry  the  Handsome  by  John  of  Marmoutier.  For  England,  Orderic  and 
the  Chronicle  die  out  in  the  midst  of  Stephen's  reign  ;  here,  too,  end  William 
of  Malmesbury,  Huntingdon,  the  "Gesta  Stephani,"  a  record  in  great  detail 
by  one  of  Stephen's  clerks,  and  the  Hexham  Chroniclers,  who  are  most  valuable 
for  its  opening  (published  by  Mr.  Kaine  for  the  Surtees  Society).  The  blank 
in  our  historical  literature  extends  over  the  first  years  of  Henry  the  Second. 

The  lives  and  letters  of  Beket  have  been  industriously  collected  and  published 
by  Canon  Robertson  in  the  Rolls  Series.] 

To  understand  the  history  of  England  under  its  Angevin  rulers,  we 
must  first  know  something  of  the  Angevins  themselves.  The  character 
and  the  policy  of  Henry  the  Second  and  his  sons  were  as  much  a 
heritage  of  their  race  as  the  broad  lands  of  Anjou.  The  fortunes 
of  England  were  being  slowly  wrought  out  in  every  incident  of  the 
history  of  the  Counts,  as  the  descendants  of  a  Breton  woodman  became 
masters  not  of  Anjou  only,  but  of  Touraine,  Maine,  and  Poitou,  of 
(iascony  and  Auvergne,  of  Aquitaine  and  Normandy,  and  sovereigns 
at  last  of  the  great  realin  which  Normandy  had  won.  The  legend  of 
the  father  of  their  race  carries  us  back  to  the  times  of  our  own 
yl'Jfrcd,  when  the  Danes  were  ravaging  along  Loire  as  they  ravaged 
along  Thames.  In  the  heart  of  the  Breton  border,  in  the  debateable 
land  between  France  and  Britanny,  dwelt  Tortulf  the  Forester,  half- 
brig  ind,  half-hunter  as  the  gloomy  days  went,  living  in  free  outlaw- 
fashion  in  t'  e  woods  about  Rennes.  Tortulf  had  L-arned  in  his  rough 
forest  school  "  how  to  strike  the  foe,  to  sleep  on  the  bare  ground,  to 
bear  hunger  and  toil,  summer's  heat  and  winter's  frost,  how  to  fear 
nothing  save  ill-fame."  Following  King  Charles  the  Bald  in  his 
struggle  with  the  Danes,  the  woodman  won  broad  lands  along  Loire, 
aid  his  son  Ingelger,  who  had  swept  the  northmen  from  Touraine  and 
the  land  to  the  west,  which   they  hid  burned  and  wasted  into  a  vas< 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 

• 


99 


solitude,  became  the  first  Count  of  Anjou.  But  the  tale  of  Tortulf  and 
Ingelger  is  a  mere  creation  of  some  twelfth  century  jongleur^  and  the 
earliest  Count  whom  history  recognizes  is  Fulkthe  Red.  Fulk  attached 
himself  to  the  Dukes  of  France  who  were  now  drawing  nearer  to  the 
throne,  and  received  from  them  in  guerdon  the  county  of  Anjou.  Tl  e 
story  of  his  son  is  a  story  of  peace,  breaking  like  a  quiet  idyll  the  war- 
storms  of  his  house.  Alone  of  his  race  Fulk  the  Good  waged  no  wars  : 
his  delight  was  to  sit  in  the  choir  of  Tours  and  to  be  called  '*  Canon." 
One  Martinmas  eve  Fulk  was  singing  there  in  clerkly  guise  when  the 
king,  Lewis  d'Outremer,  entered  the  church.  "  He  sings  like  a 
priest,"  laughed  the  King,  as  his  nobles  pointed  mockingly  to  the  figure 
ot  the  Count-Canon  ;  but  Fulk  was  ready  with  his  reply.  "  Know,  my 
lor  1, '  wrote  the  Count  of  Anjou,  "  that  a  king  unlearned  is  a  crowned 
ass."  Fulk  was  in  fact  no  priest,  but  a  busy  ruler,  governing,  enforcing 
peace,  and  carrying  justice  to  every  corner  of  the  wasted  land.  To 
him  alone  of  his  race  men  gave  the  title  of  ''  the  Good.'' 

Himself  in  character  little  more  than  a  bold  dashing  soldier,  Ful'.'s 
son,  Geoffry  Grey-gown,  sank  almost  into  a  vassal  of  his  powerful 
neighbours,  the  Counts  of  Blois  and  Champagne.  The  vassalage  was 
roughly  shaken  off  by  his  successor.  Fulk  Nerra,  Fulk  the  Black,  is 
the  greatest  of  the  Angevins,  the  first  in  whom  we  can  trace  that 
markt^d  type  of  character  which  their  house  was  to  preserve  with  a 
fatal  constancy  through  two  hundred  years.  He  was  without  natural 
affection.  In  his  youth  he  burnt  a  wife  at  the  sta'  e,  and  legend 
told  how  he  led  her  to  her  doom  decked  out  in  his  gayest  attire.  In 
his  old  age  he  waged  his  bitterest  war  against  his  son,  and  exacted 
from  him  when  vanquished  a  humiliation  which  men  reserved  for  the 
deadliest  of  their  foes.  *'  You  are  conquered,  you  are  conquered  ! ''' 
shouted  the  old  man  in  fierce  exultation,  as  Geoffry,  bridled  and 
saddled  like  a  beast  of  burden,  crawled  for  pardon  to  his  father  s  feet. 
In  Fulk  first  appeared  the  low  type  of  superstition  which  startled  even 
superstitious  ages  in  the  early  Plautagenets.  Robber  as  he  was  of 
Church  lands,  and  contemptuous  of  ecclesiastical  censures,  the  fear  of 
the  judgement  drove  Fulk  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre  Barefoot  and  with 
the  strokes  of  the  scourge  falling  heavily  on  his  s'loulders,  the  Count 
had  himself  dragged  by  a  halter  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  and 
courted  the  doom  of  martyrdom  by  his  wild  outcries  of  penitence.  He 
rew.irded  the  fidelity  of  Herbert  of  Le  Mans,  whose  aid  saved  him 
from  utter  ruin,  by  entrapping  him  into  captivity  and  robbing  him  of 
his  lands.  He  secured  the  terrified  friendship  of  the  French  king  by 
despatching  twelve  assassins  to  cut  down  before  his  eyes  the  minister 
who  had  troubled  it.  Familiar  as  the  age  was  with  treason  and  rapine 
and  blood,  it  recoiled  from  the  cool  cynicism  of  his  crimes,  and  be- 
lieved the  wrath  of  Heaven  to  have  been  revealed  against  the  union  of 
the  worst  forms  of  evil  in   Fulk  the  Black.     But  neither  the  wrath  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Heaven  nor  the  curses  of  men  broke  with  a  single  mishap  the  fifty 
years  of  his  success. 

At  his  accession  Anjou  was  the  least  important  of  the  greater  pro- 
vinces of  France.  At  his  death  in  1040  it  stood,  if  not  in  extent,  at 
least  in  real  power,  first  among  them  all.  Cool-headed,  clear-sighted, 
quick  to  resolve,  quicker  to  strike,  Fulk's  career  was  one  long  series  of 
victories  over  all  his  rivals.  He  was  a  consummate  general,  and  he 
had  the  gift  of  personal  bravery,  which  was  denied  to  some  of  his 
greatest  des  endants.  There  was  a  moment  in  the  first  of  his  battles 
when  the  day  seemed  lost  for  Anjou  ;  a  feigned  retreat  of  the  Bretons 
had  drawn  the  Angevin  horsemen  into  a  line  of  hidden  pitfalls,  and 
the  Count  himself  was  flung  heavily  to  the  ground.  Dragged  from  the 
medley  of  men  and  horses,  he  swept  down  almost  singly  on  the  foe 
"  as  a  storm-wind  "  (so  rang  the  paean  of  the  Angevins)  "  sweeps  down 
on  the  thick  corn-rows,"  and  the  field  was  won.  To  these  qualities  of 
the  warrior  he  added  a  power  of  political  organization,  a  capacity  for 
far-reaching  combinations,  a  faculty  of  statesmanship,  which  became 
the  heritage  of  the  Angevins,  and  lifted  them  as  high  above  the  intel- 
lectual level  of  the  rulers  of  their  time  as  their  shameless  wickedness 
degraded  them  below  the  level  of  man.  His  overthrow  of  Britanny 
on  the  field  of  Conquereux  was  followed  by  the  gradual  absorption  of 
Southern  Touraine,  while  his  restless  activity  covered  the  land  with 
castles  and  abbeys.  The  very  spirit  of  the  Black  Count  seems  still  to 
frown  from  the  dark  tower  of  Durtal  on  the  sunny  valley  of  the  Loire. 
A  victory  at  Pontlevoi  crushed  the  rival  house  of  Blois ;  the  seizure 
of  Saumur  completed  his  conquests  in  the  south,  while  Northern 
Touraine  was  won  bit  by  bit  till  only  Tours  resisted  the  Angevin.  The 
treacherous  seizure  of  its  count,  Herbert  Wake-dog,  left  Maine  at  his 
mercy  ere  the  old  man  bequeathed  his  unfinished  work  to  his  son.  As 
a  warrior  Geofifry  Martel  was  hardly  inferior  to  his  father.  A  decisive 
victory  left  Poitou  at  his  mercy,  a  second  wrested  Tours  from  the 
Count  of  Blois  ;  and  the  seizure  of  Le  Mans  brought  him  to  the 
Norman  border.  Here  however  his  advance  was  checked  by  the 
genius  of  William  the  Conqueror,  and  with  his  death  the  greatness  of 
Anjou  seemed  for  the  time  to  have  come  to  an  end. 

Stripped  of  Maine  by  the  Normans  and  weakened  by  internal  dis- 
sensions, the  weak  administration  of  the  next  count,  Fulk  Rechin,  left 
Anjou  powerless  ag.iinst  its  rivals.  It  woke  to  fresh  energy  with  the 
accession  of  his  son,  Fulk  of  Jerusale  n.  Now  urging  the  turbulent 
Norman  nobles  to  revolt,  now  supporting  Robert's  son  William  against 
his  uncle,  offering  himself  throughout  as  the  loyal  supporter  of  France, 
which  was  now  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by  the  forces  of  the  English 
king  and  of  his  allies  the  Counts  of  Blois  ami  Champagne,  Ful:  was  the 
one  enemy  whom  Henry  the  First  really  feared.  It  was  to  disarm  his 
restless  hostility  that  the  king  gave  to  his  son,  GeolVry  the  Handsome, 


ir.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS." 


the  hand  of  his  daughter  Matilda.  No  marriage  could  have  been  more 
unpopular,  and  the  secrecy  with  which  it  was  effected  was  held  by  the 
barons  as  freeing  them  from  the  oath  which  they  had  sworn  ;  for  no 
baron,  if  he  was  without  sons,  could  give  a  husband  to  his  daughter 
save  by  his  lord's  consent,  and  by  a  strained  analogy  the  nobles  con- 
tended that  their  own  assent  was  necessary  to  the  marriage  of  Matilda. 
A  more  pressing  danger  lay  in  the  greed  of  her  husband  Geoffry,  who 
from  his  habit  of  wearing  t'ie  common  broom  of  Anjou  (the  pianta 
genista)  in  his  helmet  had  acquired,  in  addition  to  his  surname  of 
"  the  Handsome,"  the  more  famous  title  of  "  Plantagenet."  His  claims 
ended  at  last  in  intrigues  with  the  Norman  nobles,  and  Henry  hurried 
to  the  border  to  meet  an  expected  invasion  ;  but  the  plot  broke  down 
at  his  presence,  the  Angevins  retired,  and  the  old  man  withdrew  to 
the  forest  of  Lions  to  die. 

*'  God  give  him,"  wrote  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen  from  Henry's  death- 
bed, "  the  peace  he  loved."  With  him  indeed  closed  the  long  peace  of 
the  Norman  rule.  An  outburst  of  anarchy  followed  on  the  news  of  his 
departure,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  turmoil  Earl  Stephen,  his  nephew, 
appeared  at  the  gates  of  London.  Stephen  was  a  son  of  the  Con- 
queror's daughter,  Adela,  who  had  married  a  Count  of  Blois  ;  he  had 
been  brought  up  at  the  English  court,  and  his  claim  as  nearest  male 
heir,  save  his  brother,  of  the  Conqueror's  blood  (for  his  cousin,  the  son 
of  Robert,  had  fallen  in  Flanders)  was  supported  by  his  personal  popu- 
larity. Mere  swordsman  as  he  was,  his  good-humour,  his  generosity, 
his  very  prodigality  made  him  a  favourite  with  all.  No  noble  however 
had  as  yet  ventured  to  join  him,  nor  had  any  town  opened  its  gates 
when  London  poured  out  to  meet  him  with  uproarious  welcome. 
Neither  barons  nor  prelates  were  present  to  constitute  a  National 
Council,  but  the  great  city  did  not  hesitate  to  take  their  place.  The 
voice  of  her  citizens  had  long  been  accepted  as  representative  of  the 
popular  assent  in  the  election  of  a  king  ;  but  it  marks  the  progress  of 
English  independence  under  Henry  that  London  now  claimed  of  itself 
the  right  of  election.  Undismayed  by  the  absence  of  the  hereditary 
counsellors  of  the  crown,  its  "Aldermen  and  wise  folk  gathered  toge- 
ther the  folkmoot,  and  these  providing  at  their  own  will  for  the  good 
of  the  realm,  unanimously  resolved  to  choose  a  king."  The  solemn 
deliberation  ended  in  the  choice  of  Stephen  ;  the  citizens  swore  to 
defend  the  King  with  money  and  blood,  Stephen  swore  to  apply 
his  whole  strength  to  the  pacification  and  good  government  of  the 
realm. 

If  London  was  true  to  her  oath,  Stephen  was  false  to  his.  The 
nineteen  years  of  his  reign  are  years  of  a  misrule  and  disorder  unknown 
in  our  history.  Stephen  had  been  acknowledged  even  by  the  partizans 
of  Matilda,  but  his  weakness  and  prodigality  soon  gave  room  to  feudal 
revolt.     In    1138  a  rising  of  the  barons,  planned  by  Earl  Robert  of 


I02 


'HfStORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Gloucester,  in  southern  and  western  England  was  aided  by  the  King 
of  Scots,  who  poured  his  forces  over  the  northern  border.  Stephen 
himself  marched  on  the  western  rebels,  and  left  them  few  strongholds 
save  Bristol.  The  pillage  and  crueltie ;  of  the  wild  tribes  of  Galloway 
and  the  Highlands  roused  the  spirit  of  the  north  ;  baron  and  freeman 
gathered  at  York  round  Archbishop  Thurstan,  and  marched  to  the 
field  of  Northallerton  to  await  the  foe.  The  sacred  banners  of  S. 
Cuthbert  of  Durham,  S.  Peter  of  York,  S.  John  of  Beverley,  and  S. 
Wilfrid  of  Ripon  hung  from  a  pole  fixed  in  a  four-wheeled  car  which 
stood  in  the  centre  of  the  host.  "  I  who  wear  no  armour,"  shouted  the 
chief  of  the  Galwegians,  "will  go  as  far  this  day  as  any  one  with 
breastplate  of  mail ;  "  his  men  charged  with  wild  shouts  of  "  Albin, 
Albin,"  and  were  followed  by  the  Norman  knighthood  of  the  Low  lands. 
The  rout,  however,  was  complete ;  the  fierce  hordes  dashed  in  vain 
against  the  close  English  ranks  around  the  Standard,  and  the  whole 
army  fled  in  confusion  to  Carlisle. 

But  Stephen  had  few  kingly  qualiJes  save  that  of  a  sgldier's 
bravery,  and  the  realm  soon  began  to  slip  from  his  grasp.  Released 
from  the  stern  hand  of  Henry,  the  barons  fortified  their  castles,  and 
their  example  was  necessarily  followed,  in  self-defence,  by  the  great 
prelates  and  nobles  who  had  acted  as  ministers  to  the  late  King.  Roger, 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  the  justiciar,  and  his  son  Roger  the  Chancellor, 
were  carried  away  by  the  panic.  They  fortified  their  castles,  and 
appeared  at  court  followed  by  a  strong  force  at  their  back.  The  weak 
violence  of  the  king's  temper  sudtlenly  broke  (»ut.  He  seized  Roger  with 
his  son  the  Chancellor  and  his  nephew  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  at  Oxford, 
and  forced  them  to  surrender  their  strongholds.  Shame  broke  the  justi- 
ciar's heart ;  he  died  at  the  close  of  the  year,  and  his  nephew  Nigel  of 
Ely,  the  Treasurer,  was  driven  from  the  realm.  The  fall  of  Roger's  hou  .e 
shattered  the  whole  system  of  government.  The  King's  violence,  while 
it  cost  him  the  support  of  the  clergy,  opened  the  way  for  Matilda's  landing 
in  England  ;  and  the  country  was  soon  divided  between  the  adherents 
of  the  two  rivals,  the  West  supporting  Matilda,  London  and  ihe  East 
Stephen.  A  defeat  at  Lincoln  left  the  latter  a  captive  in  the  hands  of 
his  enemies,  while  Matilda  was  received  throughout  the  land  as  its 
"  Lady."  But  the  disdain  with  which  she  repulsed  the  claim  of 
London  to  the  enjoyment  of  its  older  privileges  called  its  burghers  to 
arms,  and  her  resolve  to  hold  Stephen  a  prisoner  roused  his  party 
again  to  life.  Flying  to  Oxford,  she  was  besieged  there  by  Stephen, 
who  had  obtained  his  release  ;  but  she  escaped  in  white  robes  by  a 
postern,  and  crossing  the  river  unobserved  on  the  ice,  made  her  way  to 
AI)ingdon.  Six  years  later  she  returned  to  Normandy.  The  war  had  in 
fact  become  a  mere  chaos  of  pillage  and  bloodshed,  'ihe  outrages  of  the 
feudal  baronage  showed  from  what  horrors  the  rule  of  the  Norman  kings 
had  saved  England.     No  more  ghastly  picture  of  a  nation's  misery  has 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


103 


ever  been  painted  than  that  which  closes  the  Enghsh  Chronicle,  whose 
last  accents  falter  out  amidst  the  horrors  of  the  time.  "  They  hanjjed 
up  men  by  their  feet  and  smoked  them  with  foul  smoke.  Some  were 
hanged  up  by  their  thumbs,  others  by  the  head,  and  burning  things 
were  hung  on  to  their  feet.  They  put  knotted  strings  about  men's 
heads  and  writhed  them  till  they  went  into  the  brain.  They  put  men  into 
prisons  where  adders  and  snakes  and  toads  were  crawling,  and  so  they 
tormented  them.  Some  they  put  into  a  chest  short  and  narrow  and 
not  deep,  and  that  had  sharp  stones  within,  and  forced  men  therein  so 
that  they  broke  all  their  limbs.  In  many  of  the  castles  were  natefui  and 
grim  things  called  rachenteges,  which  two  or  three  men  had  enough  to 
do  to  carry.  It  was  thus  made  :  it  was  fastened  to  a  beam  and  ha  1  a 
sharp  iron  to  go  about  a  man's  neck  and  throat,  so  that  he  might  noways 
sit,  or  lie,  or  leep,  but  he  bore  all  the  iron.  Many  thousands  they 
starved  with  hunger." 

England  was  rescued  from  this  feudal  anarchy  by  the  efforts  of  the 
Church.  In  the  early  part  of  Stephen's  reign  his  brother  Henry,  the 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  acting  as  Papal  Legate  for  the  realm,  had 
striven  to  supply  the  absence  of  any  royal  or  national  authority  by 
convening  synods  of  bishops,  and  by  asserting  the  moral  right  of  the 
Church  to  declare  sovereigns  unworthy  of  the  throne.  The  compact 
between  king  and  people  which  became  a  part  of  conscitutional  law  in 
t'le  Charter  of  Henry  had  gathered  new  force  in  the  Charter  of 
Stephen,  but  its  legitimate  consequence  in  the  responsibility  of  the 
crown  for  the  execution  of  the  compact  was  first  drawn  out  by  these 
ecclesiastical  councils.  From  their  alternate  depositions  of  Stephen 
and  Matilda  flowed  the  after  depositions  of  Edward  and  Richard,  and 
the  solemn  act  by  which  the  succession  was  changed  in  the  case  of 
James.  Extravagant  and  unauthorized  as  then  expression  of  it  may 
appear,  they  expressed  the  right  of  a  nation  to  good  government. 
Henry  of  Winchester,  however,  "  half  monk,  naif  soldier,"  as  he  was 
called,  possessed  too  little  religious  influence  to  wield  a  really  spiritual 
power  ;  it  was  only  at  the  close  of  Stephen's  reign  that  the  nation  really 
found  a  moral  leader  in  Theobald,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbuiy. 
"  To  the  Church,"  Thomas  justly  said  afterwards,  with  the  proud 
consciousness  of  having  been  Theobald's  right  hand,  "  Henry  owed 
his  crown  and  England  her  deliverance."  Thomas  was  the  son  of 
Gilbert  Beket,  the  portreeve  of  London,  the  site  of  whose  house  is  still 
marked  by  the  Mercers'  chapel  in  Cheaphide.  His  mother  Rohese 
was  a  type  of  the  devout  woman  of  her  day  ;  she  weighed  her  boy  each 
year  on  his  birthday  against  money,  clothes,  and  provisions  which  she 
gave  to  the  poor.  Thomas  grew  up  amidsc  the  Norman  barons  and 
clerks  who  frequented  his  father's  house  with  a  genial  freedom  of 
character  tempered  by  the  Norman  refinement ;  he  passed  from  the 
school  of  Merton  to  the  University  of  Paris,  and  returned  to  fling 


Sec.  VII. 


I04 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


himself  into  the  life  of  the  young  nobles  of  the  time.  Tall,  handsome, 
bright-eyed,  ready  of  wit  and  speech,  his  firmness  of  temper  showed 
itself  in  his  very  sports  ;  to  rescue  his  hawk  which  had  fallen  into  the 
water  he  once  plunged  into  a  millrace,  and  was  all  but  crushed  by  the 
wheel.  The  loss  of  his  father's  wealth  drove  him  to  the  court  of 
Archbishop  Theobald,  and  he  soon  became  the  Primate's  confidant  in 
his  plans  for  the  rescue  of  England.  Henry,  the  son  of  Matilda  and 
Geofifry,  had  now  by  the  death  of  his  father  become  master  of 
Normandy  and  Anjou,  while  by  his  marriage  with  its  duchess,  Eleanor 
of  Poitou,  he  had  added  Aquitaine  to  his  dominions.  Thomas,  as 
Theobald's  agent,  invited  Henry  to  appear  in  England,  and  on  the 
Duke's  landing  the  Archbishop  interposed  between  the  rival  claimants 
to  the  crown.  The  Treaty  of  Wallingford  abolished  the  evils  of  the 
long  anarchy  ;  the  castles  were  to  be  razed,  the  crown  lands  resumed, 
the  foreign  mercenaries  banished  from  the  country.  Stephen  was 
recognized  as  King,  and  in  turn  acknowledged  Henry  as  his  heir. 
But  a  year  had  hardly  passed  when  Stephen's  death  gave  his  rival 
the  crown. 

Section  VIII.— Henry  tbe  Second,  1154—11^9. 

[Authorities. — Up  to  the  death  of  Archbishop  Thomas  we  have  only  the  letters 
of  Beket  himself,  Koliot,  and  John  of  Salisbury,  collected  by  Canon  Robertson 
and  Dr.  Gi'es  ;  but  this  dearth  is  followed  by  a  vast  outburst  of  historical 
industry.  From  1169  till  1192  our  primary  authority  is  the  Chronicle  known 
as  that  of  Benedict  of  Peterborough,  whose  authorship  Dr.  Stubhs  has  shown 
to  be  more  probably  due  to  the  royal  treasurer,  Bishop  Richard  Fitz-Neal.  It 
is  continued  to  1201  by  Koger  of  Howden.  Uoth  are  works  of  the  highest 
value,  and  have  been  edited  for  the  Rolls  series  by  Dr.  Stubbs,  whose  prefaces 
have  thrown  a  new  light  on  the  constitutional  history  of  Henry's  reign.  The 
history  by  William  of  Newburgh  (which  ends  in  1 198)  is  a  work  of  the  classical 
school,  like  William  of  Malmesbury,  but  distinguished  by  i's  fairness  and  good 
sense.  To  these  may  be  added  the  chronicles  of  Ralf  Niger,  with  the  addi- 
tions of  Ralf  of  Coggeshall,  that  of  Gervase  of  Canterbury,  and  the  Life  of 
S.  Hugh  of  Lincoln.  A  mass  of  general  literature  lies  behind  these  distinc- 
tively historical  sources,  in  the  treatises  of  lohn  of  Salisbury,  the  v  luminous 
works  of  Giraldus  Cambrensis,  the  "trifles"  and  satires  of  Walter  Map, 
Glanvill's  treatise  on  Law,  Fitz-Neal's  "Dialogue  on  the  Exchetjuer,"  the 
romances  of  Gaimar  and  Wace,  the  poem  of  the  San  Graal.  Lord  Lyttelton's 
"  Life  of  Henry  the  Second"  is  a  full  and  sober  account  of  the  time  ;  Canon 
Robertson's  Biography  of  Beket  is  accurate,  but  hostile  in  tone.  In  his 
•'Select  Charters"  Dr.  Stubbs  has  printed  the  various  "Assizes,"  and  the 
Dialogus  de  Scaccario,  which  explains  the  financial  administration  of  the  Curia 
Regis  ] 

Young  as  he  was,  Henry  mounted  the  throne  with  a  resolute  purpose 
of  government  which  his  reign  carried  steadily  out.  His  practical, 
serviceable  frame  suited  the  hardest  worker  of  his  time.  There  was 
something  in  his  build  and  look,  in  the  square  stout  frame,  the  fiery 
face,  the  close  cropped  hair,  the  prominent  eyes,  the  bull  neck,  the 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


105 


coarse  strong  hands,  the  bowed  legs,  that  marked  out  the  keen, 
stirring,  coarse-fibred  man  of  business.  "  He  never  sits  down,"  said 
one  who  observed  him  ck)sely  ;  "he  is  always  on  his  legs  from  morn- 
ing till  night."  Orderly  in  business,  careless  in  appearance,  sparing  in 
diet,  never  resting  or  giving  his  servants  rest,  chatty,  inquisitive,  en- 
dowed with  a  singular  charm  of  address  and  strength  of  memory, 
obstinate  in  love  or  hatred,  a  fair  scholar,  a  great  hunter,  his  general 
air  that  of  a  rough,  passionate,  busy  man,  Henry's  personal  character 
told  directly  on  the  character  of  his  reign.  His  accession  marks  the 
period  of  amalgamation,  when  neighbourhood  and  traffic  and  inter- 
marriage drew  Englishmen  and  Normans  rapidly  into  a  single 
people.  A  national  feeling  was  thus  springing  up  before  which  the 
barriers  of  the  older  feudalism  were  to  be  swept  away.  Henry  had 
even  less  reverence  for  the  feudal  past  than  the  men  of  his  day  ;  he 
was  indeed  utterly  without  the  imagination  and  reverence  which 
enable  men  to  sympathize  with  any  past  at  all.  He  had  a  practical 
man's  impatience  of  the  obstacles  thrown  in  the  way  of  his  reforms  by 
the  older  constitution  of  the  realm,  nor  could  he  understand  other 
men's  reluctance  to  purchase  undoubted  improvements  by  the  sacrifice 
of  customs  and  traditions  of  bygone  days.  Without  any  theoretical 
hostility  to  the  co-ordinate  powers  of  the  state,  it  seemed  to  him  a  per- 
fectly reasonable  and  natural  course  to  trample  either  baronage  or 
Church  under  foot  to  gain  his  end  of  good  government.  He  saw 
clearly  that  the  remedy  for  such  anarchy  as  England  had  endured 
under  Stephen  lay  in  the  establishment  of  a  kingly  government  unem- 
barrassed by  any  privileges  of  order  or  class,  administered  by  royal 
servants,  and  in  whose  public  administration  the  nobles  acted  simply 
as  delegates  of  t'^e  sovereign.  His  work  was  to  lie  in  the  organization 
of  judicial  and  administrative  reforms  which  realized  this  idea.  But 
of  the  great  currents  of  thought  and  feeling  which  were  tending  in  the 
same  direction  he  knew  nothing.  What  he  did  for  the  moral  and 
social  impulses  which  were  telling  on  men  about  him  was  simply  to  let 
them  alone.  Religion  grew  more  and  more  identified  with  patriotism 
under  the  eyes  of  a  King  who  whispered,  and  scribbled,  and  looked  at 
picture-books  during  mass,  who  never  confessed,  and  cursed  God  in 
wild  frenzies  of  blasphemy.  Great  peoples  formed  themselves  on  both 
sides  of  the  sea  round  a  sovereign  who  bent  the  whole  force  of  his 
mind  to  hold  together  an  Empire  which  the  growth  of  nationality  must 
inevitably  destroy.  There  is  throughout  a  tragic  grandeur  in  the  irony 
of  Henry's  position,  that  of  a  Sforza  of  the  fifteenth  century  set  in  the 
midst  of  the  twelfth,  building  up  by  patience  and  policy  and  craft  a 
dominion  aUen  to  the  deepest  sympathies  of  his  age,  and  fated  to  be 
swept  away  in  the  end  by  popular  forces  to  whose  existence  his  very 
cleverness  and  activity  blinded  him.  But  indirectly  and  uncon- 
sciously, his  policy  did  more  than  that  of  all  his  predecessors  to  pre  • 


io6 


IIISTOKV  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


>are  Englmd  for  the  unity  and  freedom  which  the  fall  of  his  house  was 
to  reveal. 

He  had  been  placed  on  the  throne,  as  we  have  seen,  by  the  Church. 
His  first  work  was  to  repair  the  evils  which  England  had  endured  till 
his  accession  by  the  restoration  of  the  system  of  Henry  the  First  ;  and 
it  was  with  the  aid  and  counsel  of  Theobald  that  the  foreign  m.irauders 
were  driven  from  the  realm,  the  castles  demolished  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  the  baronage,  the  King's  Court  and  Exchequer  restored. 
Age  and  infirmity  however  warned  the  Primate  to  retire  from  the  post 
of  minister,  and  his  power  fell  into  the  younger  and  more  vigorous 
hands  of  Thomas  Beket,  who  had  long  acted  as  his  confidential  ad- 
viser and  was  now  made  Chancellor.  Thomas  won  the  personal 
favour  of  the  King.  The  two  young  men  had,  in  Theobald's  words, 
"but  one  heart  and  mind;"  Henry  jested  in  the  Chancellor's  hill, 
or  tore  his  cloak  from  his  shoulders  in  rough  horse-play  as  they  rode 
through  the  streets.  He  loaded  his  favourite  with  riches  and  honours, 
but  there  is  no  ground  for  thinking  that  Thomas  in  any  degree  in- 
fluenced his  system  of  rule.  Henry's  policy  seems  for  good  or  evil  to 
have  been  throughout  his  own.  His  work  of  reorganization  went 
steadily  on  amidst  troubles  at  home  and  abroad.  Welsh  outbreaks 
forced  him  in  1157  to  lead  an  army  across  the  border.  The  next  >ear 
saw  him  drawn  across  the  Channel,  where  he  was  already  master  of  a 
third  of  the  present  France.  He  had  inherited  Anjou,  Maine,  and 
Touraine  from  his  father,  Normandy  from  his  mother,  and  the  seven 
provinces  of  the  South,  Poitou,  Saintonge,  the  Angoumois,  La  Marche, 
the  Limousin,  Perigord,  and  Gascony  belonged  to  his  wife.  As 
Duchess  of  Aquitaine  Eleanor  had  claims  on  Toulouse,  and  these 
Henry  prepared  in  1159  to  enforce  by  arms.  He  was  however  luck- 
less in  the  war.  King  Lewis  of  France  threw  himself  into  Toulouse. 
Conscious  of  the  ill-compacted  nature  of  his  wide  dominions,  Henry 
shrank  from  an  open  contest  with  his  suzerain  ;  he  withdrew  hisf«)rces, 
and  the  quarrel  ended  in  1 160  by  a  formal  alliance  and  the  betrothal 
of  his  eldest  son  to  the  daughter  of  Lewis.  Thomas  had  fought 
bravely  throughout  the  campaign,  at  the  head  of  the  700  knights  who 
formed  his  household.  But  the  King  had  other  work  for  him  than  w.ir. 
On  Theobald's  death  he  at  once  forced  on  the  monks  of  Canterbury, 
and  on  Thomas  himself,  his  election  as  Archbishop.  His  purpose  in 
this  appointment  was  soon  revealed.  Henry  proposed  to  the  bishops 
that  a  clerk  convicted  of  a  crime  should  be  deprived  of  his  orders, 
and  handed  over  to  the  King's  tribunals.  The  local  courts  of  the  feudal 
baronage  had  been  roughly  shorn  of  their  power  by  the  judicial  refoims 
of  Henry  the  First;  and  the  Church  courts,  as  the  Conqueror  had 
created  them,  with  their  exclusive  right  of  justice  over  the  clerical 
order,  in  other  words  over  the  whole  body  of  educated  men  throughout 
j  the  realm,  formed  the  one  great  exception  to  the  system  which  was 


Ill 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


107 


concentrating  all  jurisdiction  in  the  hands  of  the  king.  The  bishops 
yielded,  but  opposition  came  from  the  very  prelate  whom  Henry  had 
created  to  enforce  his  will.  From  the  moment  of  his  appointment 
Thomas  had  flung  himself  with  the  whole  energy  of  his  nature  into  the 
part  he  had  to  play.  At  the  first  intimation  of  Henry's  purpose  he  had 
pointed  with  a  laugh  to  his  gay  attire — "  You  are  choosing  a  fine  dress 
to  figure  at  the  head  of  your  Canterbury  monks  ;  "  but  once  monk  and 
primate,  he  passed  with  a  fevered  earnestness  from  luxury  to  asceti- 
cism. Even  as  minister  he  hid  opposed  the  King's  designs,  and  fore- 
told their  future  op  osition  :  ''  You  will  soon  hate  me  as  much  as  you 
love  me  now,"  he  said,  "  for  you  assume  an  authority  in  the  affairs  of 
the  Church  to  which  I  shall  never  assent."  A  prudent  man  might  have 
doubted  the  wisdom  of  destroying  the  only  shelter  which  protected 
piety  or  learning  against  a  despot  like  the  Red  King,  and  in  the  mind 
of  Thomas  the  ecclesiastical  immunities  were  parts  of  the  sacred  heri- 
tage of  the  Church.  He  stood  without  support  •  the  Pope  advised 
concession,  the  bishops  forsook  him,  and  Thomas  bent  at  last  to  agree 
to  the  Constitutions  drawn  up  at  the  Council  of  Clarendon.  The  King 
had  appealed  to  the  ancient  "  customs  "  of  the  realm,  and  it  was  to 
state  these  "  customs "  that  a  court  was  held  at  Clarendon  near 
Salisbury.  The  report  presented  by  bishops  and  barons  formed 
the  "  Constitutions  of  Clarendon,"  a  code  which  in  the  bulk  of  its 
provisions  simply  re-enacted  the  system  of  the  Conqueror.  Every 
election  of  bishop  or  abbot  was  to  take  place  before  royal  officers, 
in  the  King's  chapel,  and  with  the  King's  assent.  The  prelate  elect  was 
bound  to  do  homage  to  the  King  for  his  lands  before  consecration,  and 
to  hold  his  lands  as  a  barony  from  the  king,  subject  to  all  feudal 
burthens  of  taxation  and  attendance  in  the  King's  court.  No  bishop 
might  leave  the  realm  without  the  royal  permission.  No  tenant  in 
chief  or  royal  servant  might  be  excommunicated,  or  their  land  placed 
under  interdict,  but  by  the  King's  assent.  What  was  new  was  the  legis- 
lation respecting  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction.  The  King's  court  was  to 
decide  whether  a  suit  between  clerk  and  layman,  whose  nature  was 
disputed,  belonged  to  the  Church  courts  or  the  King's.  A  royal  officer 
was  to  be  present  at  all  ecclesiastical  proceedings,  in  order  to  confine 
the  Bishop's  court  within  its  own  due  limits,  and  a  clerk  once  con- 
victed there  passed  at  once  under  the  civil  jurisdiction.  An  appeal 
was  left  from  the  Archbishop's  court  to  the  King's  court  for  defect  of 
justice,  but  none  might  appeal  to  the  Papal  court  save  with  the  King's 
consent.  The  privilege  of  sanctuary  in  churches  or  churchyards  was 
repealed,  so  far  as  property  and  not  persons  was  concerned.  After  a 
passionate  refusal  the  Primate  at  last  gave  his  assent  to  the  Constitu- 
tions ;  but  this  assent  was  soon  retracted,  and  the  King's  savage  resent- 
ment threw  the  moral  advantage  of  the  position  into  the  Archbishop's 
hands.      Vexatious  charges  were  brought  against  him  ;  in  the  Council 


io8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


of  Northampton  a  few  months  later  his  life  was  said  to  be  in  danger, 
and  all  urjjed  him  to  submit.  But  in  the  presence  of  danger  the 
courage  of  the  man  rose  to  its  full  height.  Grasping  his  archiepiscopal 
cross  he  entered  the  royal  court,  forbade  the  nobles  to  condemn  him, 
and  appealed  to  the  Papal  See.  Shouts  of  "  Traitor  !  traitor  ! ''  fol- 
lowed him  as  he  retired.  The  Primate  turned  fiercely  at  the  word  : 
'*  Were  I  a  knight,"  he  retorted,  "  my  sword  should  answer  that  foul 
taunt !"  At  nightfall  he  fled  in  disguise,  and  reached  Frai.ce  through 
Flanders.  For  six  years  the  contest  raged  bitterly ;  at  Rome,  at  Paris,  the 
agents  of  the  two  powers  intrigued  against  each  other.  Henry  stooped 
to  acts  of  the  meanest  persecution  in  driving  the  Primate's  kinsmen  from 
England,  and  in  threats  to  confiscate  the  lands  of  the  Cistercians  that  he 
mightforce  the  monks  of  Pontigny  to  refuse  Thomas  a  home ;  while  Be':et 
himself  exhausted  the  patience  of  his  friends  by  his  violence  and  ex- 
communications, as  well  as  by  the  stubbornness  with  which  he  clung  to 
the  offensive  clause  "  Saving  the  honour  of  my  order,"  the  addition  of 
which  would  have  practically  neutralized  the  King's  reforms.  The  Pope 
counselled  mildness,  the  French  king  for  a  time  withdrew  his  support, 
his  own  clerks  gave  way  at  last.  "  Come  up,"  said  one  of  them  bitterly 
when  his  horse  stumbled  on  the  road,  "  saving  the  honour  of  the  Church 
and  my  order."  But  neither  warning  nor  desertion  moved  the  resolu- 
tion of  the  Primate.  Henry,  in  dread  of  papal  excommunication,  re- 
solved at  last  on  the  coronation  of  his  son,  in  defiance  of  the  privileges 
of  Canterbury,  by  the  Archbishop  of  York.  But  the  Pope's  hands 
were  now  freed  by  his  successes  in  Italy,  and  his  threat  of  an  inter- 
dict forced  the  king  to  a  show  of  submission.  The  Archbishop  was 
allowed  to  return  after  a  reconciliation  with  Henry  at  Fr^teval,  and  the 
Kentishmen  flocked  around  him  with  uproarious  welcome  as  he  entered 
Canterbury.  "  This  is  England,"  said  his  clerks,  as  they  saw  t'^e  white 
headlands  of  the  coast.  *'  You  will  wish  yourself  elsewhere  before  fifty 
days  are  gone,"  said  Thomas  sadly,  and  his  foreboding  showed  his 
appreciation  of  Henry's  character.  He  was  now  in  the  royal  power, 
and  orders  had  already  been  issued  in  the  younger  Henry's  name  for 
his  arre?t,when  four  knights  from  the  King's  court,  spurred  to  outrage 
by  a  passionate  outburst  of  their  master's  wrath,  crossed  the  sea  and 
forced  their  way  into  the  Archbishop's  palace.  After  a  stormy  parley 
with  him  in  his  chamber  they  withdrew  to  arm.  Thomas  was  hurried 
by  his  clerks  into  the  cathedral,  but  as  he  reached  the  steps  leading 
from  the  'ransept  to  the  choir  his  pursuers  burst  in  from  the  cloisters. 
"  Where,"  cried  Reginald  Fitzurse  in  the  dusk  of  the  dimly-lighted 
minster,  "  where  is  the  traitor,  Thomas  Beket  ?"  The  Primate  turned 
resolutely  back  :  "  Here  am  I,  no  traitor,  but  a  priest  of  God,"  he  re- 
plied, and  again  de  cending  the  steps  he  placed  himself  with  his  back 
against  a  pillar  and  fronted  his  foes.  All  the  bravery,  the  violence  of 
his  old  knightly  life  seemed  to  revive  in  Thomas  as  he  tossed  back  the 


ri.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


109 


threats  and  demands  of  his  assailants.  "You  are  our  prisoner," 
shouted  Fitzurse,  and  the  four  knights  seized  him  to  drag  him  from 
the  church.  "  Do  not  touch  me,  Reginald,''  shouted  the  Primate, 
"  pander  that  you  are,  you  owe  me  fealty  ;  "  and  availing  himself  of 
his  personal  strength  he  shook  him  roughly  off.  "  Strike,  strike," 
retorted  Fitzurse,  and  blow  after  blow  struck  Thomas  to  the  ground. 
A  retainer  of  Ranulf  de  Broc  with  the  point  of  his  sword  scattered 
the  Primate's  brains  on  the  ground.  "  Let  us  be  off,"  he  cried 
triump'  antly,  "  this  traitor  will  never  rise  again." 

The  brutal  murder  was  received  with  a  thrill  of  horror  throughout 
Christendom  ;  miracles  were  wrought  at  the  martyr's  tomb  ;  he  was 
canonized,  and  became  the  most  popular  of  English  saints  ;  but  Henry's 
show  of  submission  to  the  Papacy  averted  the  excommunication  which 
at  first  threatened  to  avenge  the  deed  of  blood.  The  judicial  pro- 
visions of  the  Constitutions  of  Clarendon  were  in  form  annulled,  and 
liberty  of  election  was  restored  to  bishopricks  and  abbacies.  In  reality 
however  the  victory  rested  with  the  King.  Throughout  his  reign 
ecclesiastical  appointments  were  practically  in  his  hands,  while  the 
King's  Court  asserted  its  power  over  the  spiritual  jurisdiction  of  the 
bishops.  The  close  of  the  struggle  left  Henry  free  to  complete  his 
great  work  of  legal  reform.  He  had  already  availed  himself  of  the 
expedition  against  Toulouse  to  dehver  a  blow  at  the  baronage  by 
allowing  the  lower  tenants  to  commute  their  personal  service  in  the 
field  for  a  money  payment  under  the  name  of  "  scutage,"  or  shield- 
money.  The  King  thus  became  master  of  resources  which  enabled 
him  to  dispense  with  the  military  support  of  his  tenants,  and  to  main- 
tain a  force  of  mercenary  soldiers  in  their  place.  The  diminution 
of  the  military  power  of  the  nobles  was  accompanied  by  measures 
which  robbed  them  of  their  legal  jurisdiction.  The  circuits  of  the  judges 
were  restored,  and  instructions  were  given  them  to  enter  the  manors 
of  the  barons  and  make  inquiry  into  their  privileges  ;  while  the  office  of 
sheriff  was  withdrawn  from  the  great  nobles  of  the  shire  and  entrusted 
to  the  lawyers  and  courtiers  who  already  furnished  the  staff  of  justices. 
The  resentment  of  the  barons  found  an  opportunity  of  displaying  itself 
when  the  King's  eldest  son,  whose  coronation  had  given  him  the  title 
of  King,  demanded  to  be  put  in  possession  of  his  Enghsh  realm,  and 
on  his  father's  refusal  took  refuge  with  Lewis  of  France.  France, 
Flanders,  and  Scotland  joined  the  league  against  Henry  ;  his  younger 
sons,  Richard  and  Geoffry,  took  up  arms  in  Aquitaine.  In  England 
a  descent  of  Flemi^^h  mercenaries  under  the  Earl  of  Leicester  was 
repulsed  by  the  loyal  justiciars  near  S.  Edmundsbury  ;  but  Lewis  had 
no  sooner  entered  Normandy  and  invested  Rouen  than  the  whole 
extent  of  the  danger  was  revealed.  The  Scots  crossed  the  border, 
Roger  Mowbray  rose  in  revolt  in  Yorkshire,  Ferrars,  Earl  of  Derby, 
in  the  midland  shires,  Hugh  Bigod  in  the  eastern  counties,  while  a 


no 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENOLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap 


Flemish  fleet  prepared  to  support  the  insurrection  by  a  descent  rnon 
the  coast.  The  murder  of  Archbishop  Thomas  still  hung  around 
Henry's  neck,  and  his  first  act  in  hurrying  to  England  to  meet  these 
perils  was  to  prostrate  himself  before  the  shrine  of  the  new  martyr, 
and  to  submit  to  a  public  scourging  in  expiation  of  his  sin.  But  the 
penance  was  hardly  wrought  when  all  danger  was  dispelled  by  a 
series  of  triumphs.  The  King  of  Scotland,  William  the  Lion,  surprised 
by  the  English  under  cover  of  a  mist,  fell  into  the  hands  of  his 
minister,  Ranulf  de  Glanvill,  and  at  the  retreat  of  the  Scots  the 
English  rebels  hastened  to  lay  down  thf ir  arms.  With  thj  army  of 
mercenaries  which  he  had*  brought  over  sea  Henry  was  able  to  return 
to  Normandy,  to  raise  the  siege  of  Rouen,  and  to  reduce  his  sons  to 
submission.  The  revolt  of  the  baronage  was  followed  by  fresh  blows  at 
their  power.  A  further  step  was  taken  a  few  years  later  in  the  military 
organization  of  the  realm  by  the  Assize  of  Arms,  which  restored  the 
national  militia  to  the  place  which  it  had  lost  at  the  Conquest.  The 
substitution  of  scutage  for  military  service  had  freed  the  crown  from  its 
dependence  on  the  baronage  and  its  feudal  retainers  ;  the  Assize  of 
Arms  replaced  this  feudal  organization  by  the  older  obligation  of  every 
freeman  to  serve  in  the  defence  of  the  realm.  Every  knight  was  bound 
to  appear  at  the  King's  call  in  coat  of  mail  and  with  shield  and  lance, 
every  freeholder  with  lance  and  hauberk,  every  burgess  and  poorer 
freeman  with  lance  and  helmet.  The  levy  of  an  armed  nation 
was  thus  placed  wholly  at  the  disposal  of  the  King  for  purposes  of 
defence. 

The  measures  we  have  named  were  only  part  of  Henry's  legislation. 
His  reign,  it  has  been  truly  said,  "initiated  the  rule  of  law"  as  dis- 
tinct from  the  despotism,  whether  personal  or  tempered  by  routine,  of 
the  Norman  kings.  It  was  in  su  cessive  "Assizes"  or  codes  issued 
with  the  sanction  of  great  councils  of  barons  and  prelates,  that  he 
perfected  by  a  system  of  reforms  the  administrative  measures  which 
Henry  the  First  had  begun.  The  fabric  of  our  judicial  legislation 
commences  with  the  Assize  of  Clarendon,  the  fir  t  object  of  which  was 
to  provide  for  the  order  of  the  realm  by  reviving  the  old  English 
system  of  mutual  security  or  frankpledge.  No  stranger  might  abide 
in  any  place  save  a  borough,  and  there  but  for  a  single  night,  unless 
sureties  were  given  for  his  good  behaviour;  and  the  list  of  such 
strangers  was  to  be  submitted  to  the  itinerant  justices.  In  the  pro- 
visions of  this  assize  for  the  repression  of  crime  we  find  the  origin  ol 
trial  by  jury,  so  often  attributed  to  earlier  times.  Twelve  lawful  men 
of  each  hundred,  with  four  from  each  township,  were  sworn  to  present 
those  who  were  known  or  reputed  as  criminals  within  their  district  for 
trial  by  ordeal.  The  jurors  were  thus  not  merely  witnesses,  but  sworn 
to  act  as  judges  also  in  determining  the  value  of  the  charge,  and  it  is 
this  double  character  of  Henry's  jurors  that  has  descended  to  otn 


n.J 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


Ill 


"grand  jury,"  who  still  remain  charged  with  the  duty  of  presenting 
criminals  for  trial  after  examination  of  the  witnesses  against  them. 
Two  later  steps  brought  the  jury  to  its  modern  condition.     Under 
Edward  the  First  witnesses  acquainted  with  the  particular  fact   in 
question  were  added  in  each  case  to  the  general  jury,  and  by  the 
separation  of  these  two  classes  of  jurors  at  a  later  time  the  la  t  became 
simply  "  witnesses  "  without  any  judicial  power,  while  the  first  ceased 
to  be  witnesses  at  all,  and  became  our  modern  jurors,  who  are  only 
udges  of  the  testimony  given.     With  this  assize,  too,  the  practice 
which  had  prevailed  from  the  earliest  English  times  of  "  compur- 
gation ''    passed   away.      Under   this  system    the   accused   could  be 
acquitted  of  the  charge  by  the  voluntary  oath  of  his  neighbours  and 
kinsmen  ;  but  this  was  abolished  by  the  Assize  of  Clarendon,  and  for 
the  next  fifty  years  his  trial,  after  the  investigation  of  the  grand  jury, 
was  found  solely  in  the  ordeal  or  "judgement  of  God,"  where  innocence 
was  proved  by  the  power  of  holding  hot  iron  in  the  hand,  or  by  sinking 
when  flung  into  the  water,  for  swimming  was  a  proof  of  guilt.     It  was 
the  abolition  of  the  whole  system  of  ordeal  by  the  Council  of  Lateran 
which  led  the  way  to  the  establishment  of  what  is  called  a  "  petty 
jury"  for  the  final  trial  of  prisoners.     The  Assize  of  Clarendon  was 
expanded  in  that  of  Northampton,  which  was  dr  iwn  up  immediately 
after  the  rebellion  of  the  Barons.    Henry,  as  we  have  seen,  had  restored 
the  King's  Court  and  the  occasional  circuits  of  its  justices  :   by  the 
Assize  of  Northampton  he  rendered  this  institution  permanent  and 
legular  by  dividing  the  kingdom  into  six  districts,  to  each  of  which  he 
assigned  three  itinerant  justices.     The  circuits  thus  defined  correspond 
roughly  with  those  that  still  exist.     The  primary  object  of  these  circuits 
was  financial,  but  the  rendering  of  the  King's  justice  went  on  side  by 
side  with  the  exaction  of  the  King's  dues,  and  this  carrying  of  justice 
to  every  corner  of  the  realm  was  made  still   more  effective  by  the 
abolition  of  all  feudal  exemptions  from  the  royal  jurisdiction.     The 
chief  danger  of  the  new  system  lay  in  the  opportunities  it  afforded  to 
judicial  corruption  ;  and  so  great  were  its  abu  es  that  Henry  was  soon 
forced  to  restrict  for  a  time  the  number  of  justices  to  five,  and  to 
reserve  appeals  from  their  court  to  himself  in  council.     The  Court 
of  Appeal   which   he    thus   created,   that   of  the   King  in   Council, 
gave  birth  as  time  went  on  to  tribunal  after  tribunal.     It  is  from  it 
that   the  judicial  powers    now  exercised  by  the  Privy   Council   are 
derived,  as  well  as  the  equitable  jurisdiction  of  the  Chancellor.     In 
the  next  century  it  becomes  the  Great  Council  of  the  realm,  from 
which  the  Privy  Council  drew  its  legislative,  and  the  House  of  Lords 
its  judicial  character.     The  Court  of  Star  Chamber  and  the  Judicial 
Committee  of  the  Privy  Council  are  later  offshoots  of  Henry's  Court  of 
Appeal.      The   King's  Court,  which  became   inferior  to  this   higher 
lurisdiction,  was  divided  after  the  Great  Charter  into  the  three  distinct 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


courts  of  the  King's  Bench,  the  Exchequer,  and  the  Common  Pleas, 
which  by  the  time  of  Edward  the  First  received  distinct  judges,  and 
became  for  all  purposes  separate. 

For  the  ten  years  which  followed  the  revolt  of  the  barons  Henry's 
power  was  at  its  height ;  and  an  invasion,  which  we  shall  tell  hereafter, 
had  annexed  Ireland  to  his  English  crown.  But  the  course  of  triumph 
and  legislative  reform  was  rudely  broken  by  the  quarrels  and  revolts 
of  his  sons.  The  successive  deaths  of  Henry  and  Geoffry  were 
followed  by  intrigues  between  Richard,  now  his  father's  heir,  who  had 
been  entrusted  with  Aquitaine,  and  Philip,  who  had  succeeded  Lewis 
on  the  throne  of  France.  The  plot  broke  out  at  last  in  actual  conflict ; 
Richard  did  homage  to  Philip,  and  their  allied  forces  suddenly 
appeared  before  Le  Mans,  from  which  Henry  was  driven  in  headlong 
flight  towards  Normandy.  From  a  height  where  he  halted  to  look 
back  on  the  burning  city,  so  dear  to  him  as  his  birthplace,  the  King 
hurled  his  curse  against  God  :  "  Since  Thou  hast  taken  from  me  the 
town  I  loved  best,  where  I  was  born  and  bred,  and  where  my  father 
lies  buried,  I  will  have  my  revenge  on  Thee  too — I  will  rob  Thee  of 
that  thing  Thou  lovest  most  in  me."  Death  was  upon  him,  and  the 
longing  of  a  dying  man  drew  him  to  the  home  of  his  race,  but  Tours 
fell  as  he  lay  at  Saumur,  and  the  hunted  King  was  driven  to  beg 
mercy  from  his  foes.  They  gave  him  the  list  of  the  conspirators 
against  him :  at  the  head  of  them  was  his  youngest  and  best-loved 
son,  John.  "  Now,"  he  said,  as  he  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  "  let 
things  go  as  they  will — I  care  no  more  for  myself  or  for  the  world." 
He  was  borne  to  Chinon  by  the  silvery  waters  of  Vienne,  and  muttering, 
"  Shame,  shame  on  a  conquered  King,"  passed  sullenly  away. 


Section  IX.— The  Fall  of  the  AnireTins,  1189-ia04. 

[Authorifies. — In  addition  to  those  mentioned  in  the  last  Section,  the 
Chronicle  of  Richard  of  Devizes,  and  the  "  Itinerarium  Regis  Kicardi,"  edited 
by  Dr.  Stubbs,  are  useful  for  Richard's  reign.  Rigord's  "  Gesta  Philippi,"  and 
the  "  Philippis  Willelmi  Britonis,"  the  chief  authorities  on  the  French  side, 
are  given  in  Duchesne,  "Hist.  Franc.  Scriptores,"  vol.  v.] 

We  need  not  follow  Richard  in  the  Crusade  which  occupied  the  be- 
ginning of  his  reign,  and  which  left  England  for  four  years  without  a 
ruler, — in  his  quarrels  in  Sicily,  his  conquest  of  Cyprus,  his  victory  at 
Jaffa,  his  fruitless  march  upon  Jerusalem,  the  truce  he  concluded  with 
Saladin,  his  shipwreck  as  he  returned,  or  his  two  imprisonments  in 
Germany.  Freed  at  last  from  his  captivity,  he  returned  to  face  new 
perils.  During  his  absence,  the  kingdom  had  been  entrusted  to 
William  of  Longchamp,  Bishop  of  Ely,  head  of  Church  and  State,  as  at 
once  Justiciar  and  Papal  Legate.  Longchamp  was  loyal  to  the  King 
but  his  exactions  and  scorn  of  Englishmen  roused  a  fierce  hatred 


II.] 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


13 


among  the  baronage,  and  this  hatred  found  a  head  in  John,  traitor  to 
his  brother  as  to  his  father.  John's  intrigues  with  the  baronage  and 
the  F»-ench  king  ended  at  last  in  open  revolt,  which  was,  however, 
checked  by  the  ability  of  the  new  Primate,  Hubert  Walter;  and 
Richard's  landing  in  1194  was  followed  by  his  brother's  complete  sub- 
mission. But  if  Hubert  Walter  had  secured  order  in  England,  oversea 
Richard  found  himself  face  to  face  with  dangers  which  he  was  too 
clear-sighted  to  undervalue.  Destitute  of  his  father's  administrative 
genius,  less  ingenious  in  his  political  conceptions  than  John,  Richard 
was  far  from  being  a  mere  soldier.  A  love  of  adventure,  a  prid^  in 
sheer  physical  strength,  here  and  there  a  romantic  generosity,  jostled 
roughly  with  the  craft,  the  unscrupulousness,  the  violence  of  his  race  ; 
but  he  was  at  heart  a  statesman,  cool  and  patient  in  the  execution  of 
his  plans  as  he  was  bold  in  their  conception.  "  The  devil  is  loose  ;  take 
care  of  yourself,"  Philip  had  written  to  John  at  the  news  of  the  king's 
release.  In  the  French  king's  case  a  restless  ambition  was  spurred  to 
action  by  insults  which  he  had  borne  during  the  Crusade,  and  he  had 
availed  himself  of  Richard's  imprisonment  to  invade  Normandy,  while 
the  lords  of  Aquitaine  rose  in  revolt  under  the  troubadour  Bertrand  de 
Born.  Jealousy  of  the  rule  of  strangers,  weariness  of  the  turbulence  of 
the  mercenary  soldiers  of  the  Angevins  or  of  the  greed  and  oppression 
of  their  financial  administration,  combined  with  an  impatience  of  their 
firm  government  and  vigorous  justice  to  alienate  the  nobles  of  their 
provinces  on  the  Continent.  Loyalty  among  the  people  there  was 
none  ;  even  Anjou,  the  home  of  their  race,  drifted  towards  Philip  as 
steadily  as  Poitou.  But  in  warlike  ability  Richard  was  more  than 
Philip's  peer.  He  held  him  in  check  on  the  Norman  frontier  and  sur- 
prised his  treasure  at  Fr^teval,  while  he  reduced  to  submission  the 
rebels  of  Aquitaine.  England,  drained  by  the  tax  for  Richard's  ransom, 
groaned  under  its  burdens  as  Hubert  Walter  raised  vast  sums  to 
support  the  army  of  mercenaries  which  Richard  led  against  his  foes 

Crushing  taxation  had  wrung  from  England  wealth  which  again 
filled  the  royal  treasury,  and  during  a  short  truce  Richard's  bribes  de- 
tached Flanders  from  the  French  alliance,  and  united  the  Counts  of 
Chartres,  Champagne,  and  Boulogne  with  the  Bretons  in  a  revolt 
against  Philip.  He  won  a  valuable  aid  by  the  election  of  his  nephew 
Otto  to  the  German  throne,  and  his  envoy,  William  Longchamp, 
knitted  an  alliance  which  would  bring  the  German  lances  to  bear  on 
the  King  of  Paris.  But  the  security  of  Normandy  was  requisite  to  the 
success  of  these  wider  plans,  and  Richard  saw  that  its  defence  could 
no  longer  rest  on  the  loyalty  of  the  Norman  people.  His  father  might 
trace  his  descent  through  Matilda  from  the  line  of  Hrolf,  but  the 
Angevin  ruler  was  in  fact  a  stranger  to  the  Norman.  It  was  im- 
possible for  a  Norman  to  recognize  his  Duke  with  any  real  sympathy 
in  the  Angevin  prince  whom  he  saw  moving  along  the  border  at  the 


114 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


head  of  Braban9on  mercen.iries,  in  whose  camn  the  old  names  of  the 
Nofman  baronage  were  missing,  and  Merchadc,  a  Provencal  ruffian, 
held  supreme  command.  The  purely  military  site  which  Richard 
selected  for  the  new  fortress  with  which  he  guarded  the  border  showed 
his  realization  of  the  fact  that  Normandy  could  now  only  be  held  by 
force  of  arms.  As  a  monument  of  warlike  skill  his  "  Saucy  Castle," 
Chdteau-Gaillard,  stands  first  among  the  fortresses  of  the  middle  ages. 
Richard  fixed  its  site  where  the  Seine  bends  suddenly  at  Gaillon  in  a 
great  semicircle  to  the  north,  and  where  the  valley  of  Les  Andelys 
breaks  the  line  of  the  chalk  cliffs  along  its  banks.  Blue  masses  of 
woodland  crown  the  distant  hills  ;  within  the  river  curve  lies  a  dull 
reach  of  flat  meadow,  round  which  the  Seine,  broken  with  green  islets, 
and  dappled  with  the  grey  and  blue  of  the  sky,  flashes  like  a  silver 
bow  on  its  way  to  Rouen.  The  castle  formed  a  part  of  an  entrenched 
camp  which  Richard  designed  to  cover  his  Norman  capital.  Approach 
by  the  river  was  blocked  by  a  stockade  and  a  bridge  of  boats,  by  a 
fort  on  the  islet  in  mid  stream,  a^id  by  the  fortified  town  which  the 
King  built  in  the  valley  of  the  Gambon,  then  an  impassable  marsh. 
In  the  angle  between  this  valley  and  the  Seine,  on  a  spur  of  the 
chalk  hills  which  only  a  narrow  neck  of  land  connects  with  the 
general  plateau,  rose  at  the  height  of  300  feet  above  the  river  the 
crowning  fortress  of  the  whole.  Its  outworks  and  the  walls  which 
connected  it  with  the  town  and  stockade  have  for  the  most  part 
gone,  but  time  and  the  hand  of  man  have  done  little  to  destroy  the 
fortifications  themselves — the  fosse,  hewn  deep  into  the  solid  rock, 
with  casemates  hollowed  out  along  its  sides,  the  fluted  walls  of  the 
citade',  the  huge  donjon  looking  down  on  the  brown  roofs  and 
hu  Idled  gables  of  Les  Andelys.  Even  now  in  its  ruin  we  can  under- 
stand the  triumphant  outburst  of  its  royal  builder  as  he  saw  it  rising 
against  the  sky  :  "  How  pretty  a  child  is  mine,  this  cl.ild  of  but  one 
year  old  !  " 

The  easy  reduction  of  Normandy  on  the  fall  of  Ch&teau-Gaillard  at 
a  later  time  proved  Richard's  foresight ;  but  foresight  and  sagacity 
were  mingled  in  him  wit'i  a  brutal  violence  and  a  callous  indifference 
to  honour.  "  I  would  take  it,  were  its  walls  of  iron,"  Philip  exclaimed 
in  wrath  as  he  saw  the  fortress  rise.  "  I  would  hold  it,  were  its  walls  of 
butter,"  was  the  defiant  answer  of  his  foe.  It  was  Church  land,  and 
the  Archbishop  of  Rouen  laid  Normandy  under  interdict  at  its 
seizure,  but  the  King  met  the  interdict  with  mockery,  and  intrigued 
with  Rome  till  the  censure  was  withdrawn.  He  was  just  as  defiant 
of  a  "rain  of  blood,"  whose  fall  scared  his  courtiers.  "  Had  an  angel 
from  heaven  bid  him  abandon  his  work,"  says  a  cool  observer,  "  he 
would  have  answered  with  a  curse."  The  twelvemonth's  hard  work, 
in  fact,  by  securing  the  Norman  frontier,  set  Richard  free  to  deal  his 
long-planned  blow  at  Philip.     Money  only  was  wanting,  and  the  king 


il.J 


ENGLAND  UNDER  FOREIGN  KINGS. 


"5 


listened  with  more  than  the  greed  of  his  race  to  the  rumour  that  a 
treasure  had  been  found  in  the  fields  of  the  Limousin.  Twelve  knights 
of  gold  seated  round  a  golden  table  were  the  find,  it  was  said,  of  the 
Lord  of  Chains.  Treasure-trove  at  any  rate  there  was,  and  Richard 
prowled  around  the  walls,  but  the  castle  held  stubbornly  out  till  the 
King's  greed  passed  into  savage  menace  ;  he  would  hang  all,  he  swore 
— man,  woman,  the  very  child  at  the  breast.  In  the  midst  of  his 
threats  an  arrow  from  the  walls  struck  him  down.  He  died  as  he  had 
lived,  owning  the  wild  passion  which  for  seven  years  past  had  kept 
him  from  confession  lest  he  should  be  forced  to  pardon  Philip,  for- 
giving with  kingly  generosity  the  archer  who  had  shot  him. 

The  Angevin  dominion  broke  to  pieces  at  his  death.  John  was 
acknowledged  as  king  in  England  and  Normandy,  Aquitaine  was 
secured  for  him  by  its  Duchess,  his  mother;  but  Anjou,  Maine, 
and  Touraine  did  homage  to  Arthur,  the  son  of  his  elder  brother 
Geoffry,  the  late  Duke  of  Britanny.  The  ambition  of  Philip,  who 
protected  his  cause,  turned  the  day  against  Arthur  ;  the  Angevins 
rose  against  the  French  garrisons  with  which  the  French  king  prac- 
tically annexed  the  country,  and  John  was  at  last  owned  as  master  of 
the  whole  dominion  of  his  house.  A  fresh  outbreak  of  war  in  Poitou 
was  fatal  to  his  rival  ;  surprised  at  the  siege  of  Mirebeau  by  a  rapid 
march  of  the  King,  Arthur  was  taken  prisoner  to  Rouen,  and  murdered 
there,  as  men  believed,  by  his  uncle's  hand.  The  brutal  outrage  at  once 
roused  the  French  provinces  in  revolt,  while  the  French  king  marched 
straight  on  Normandy.  The  ease  with  which  its  conquest  was  efl'ected 
can  only  be  explained  by  the  utter  absence  of  any  popular  resistance  on 
the  part  of  the  Normans  themselves.  Half  a  century  before  the  sight 
of  a  Frenchman  in  the  land  would  have  roused  every  peasant  to  arms 
from  Avranches  to  Dieppe,  but  town  after  town  surrendered  at  the 
mere  summons  of  Philip,  and  the  conqu  ;st  was  hardly  over  before 
Normandy  settled  down  into  the  most  loyal  of  the  provinces  of  France, 
Much  of  this  was  due  to  the  wise  liberality  with  which  Phihp  met  the 
claims  of  the  towns  to  independence  and  self-government,  as  well  as  to 
the  overpowering  force  and  military  ability  with  which  the  conquest  was 
effected.  But  the  utter  absence  of  all  opposition  sprang  from  a  deeper 
cause.  To  the  Norman  his  transfer  from  John  to  Philip  was  a  mere 
passing  from  one  foreign  master  to  ai  other,  and  foreigner  for  foreigner 
Philip  was  the  less  alien  of  the  two.  Between  France  and  Normandy 
there  had  been  as  many  years  of  friendship  as  of  strife  ;  between 
Norman  and  Angevin  lay  a  century  of  bitterest  hate.  Moreover,  the 
subjection  to  France  was  the  reahzation  in  fact  of  a  dependence  which 
had  always  existed  in  theory  ;  Philip  entered  Rouen  as  the  over-lord  of 
its  Dukes  ;  while  the  submission  to  the  hou  e  of  Anjou  had  been  the 
most  humiliating  of  all  submissions,  the  submission  to  an  equal. 

It  was  the  consciousness  of  this  temper  in  the  Norman  people  that 


Ii6 


Sbc.  IX. 
Thb  Fall 

OF   THE 

Angevins 

1189 

TO 

1204 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


£204 


forced  John  to  abandon  all  hope  of  resistance  on  the  failure  of  his 
attempt  to  relieve  Chateau-Gaillard,  by  the  siege  of  which  Philip  com- 
menced his  invasion.  The  skill  with  which  the  combined  movements  for 
its  relief  were  planned  proved  the  King's  military  ability.  The  besiegers 
were  parted  into  two  masses  by  the  Seine  ;  the  bulk  of  their  forces  were 
camped  in  the  level  space  within  the  bend  of  the  river,  while  one 
division  was  thrown  across  it  to  occupy  the  valley  of  the  Gambon,  and 
sweep  the  country  around  of  its  provisions.  John  proposed  to  cut  the 
French  army  in  two  by  destroying  the  bridge  of  boats  which  formed 
the  only  communication  between  the  two  bodies,  while  the  whole  of 
his  own  forces  flung  themselves  on  the  rear  of  the  French  division 
encamped  in  the  cul-de-sac  formed  by  the  river-bend,  and  without  any 
exit  save  the  bridge.  Had  the  attack  been  carried  out  as  ably  as  it 
was  planned,  it  must  have  ended  in  Philip's  ruin ;  but  the  two  assaults 
were  not  made  simultaneously,  and  were  successively  repulsed.  The 
repulse  was  followed  by  the  utter  collapse  of  the  military  system  by 
which  the  Angevins  had  held  Normandy ;  John's  treasury  was  ex- 
hausted, and  his  mercenaries  passed  over  to  the  foe  The  King's 
despairing  appeal  to  the  Duchy  itself  came  too  late  ;  its  nobles  were 
already  treating  with  Philip,  and  the  towns  were  incapable  of  resisting 
the  siege  train  of  the  French.  It  was  despair  of  any  aid  from  Nor- 
mandy that  drove  John  over  sea  to  seek  it  as  fruitlessly  from  England, 
but  with  the  fall  of  Chateau-Gaillard,  after  a  gallant  struggle,  the  pro- 
vince passed  without  a  struggle  into  the  French  King's  hands.  In  1204 
Philip  turned  on  the  south  with  as  startling  a  success.  Maine,  Anjou, 
andTouraine  passed  with  little  resistance  into  his  hands,  and  the  death 
of  Eleanor  was  followed  by  the  submission  of  the  bulk  of  Aquitaine. 
Little  was  left  save  the  country  south  of  the  Garonne  ;  and  from  the 
lordship  of  a  vast  e.npire  that  stretched  from  the  Tyne  to  the  Pyrenees 
John  saw  himself  reduced  at  a  blow  to  the  realm  of  England.  On  the 
loss  of  Chateau-Gaillard  in  fact  hung  the  destinies  of  England,  and  the 
interest  th.it  attaches  one  to  the  grand  ruin  on  the  heights  of  Lcs 
Andelys  is,  that  it  represents  the  ruin  of  a  system  as  well  as  of  a  camp. 
From  its  dark  donjon  and  broken  walls  we  see  not  merely  the  pleasant 
vale  of  Seine,  but  the  sedgy  flats  of  our  own  Runnymede. 


IIT.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


117 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


1204— 1265. 


Section    I. 


-English  Literature  under  tlie  Norman  and 
Angevin  Kings. 


{Authorities. — For  the  general  literature  of  this  period,  fee  Mr.  Morley's 
"English  Writers  from  the  Conquest  to  Chaucer,"  vol.  i.  part  ii.  The 
prefaces  of  Mr.  Bre'ver  and  Mr.  Dimock  to  his  collected  works  in  the  Rolls 
Series  give  all  thai  can  be  known  of  Gerald  de  Rarri.  The  Poems  of  Walter 
Map  have  been  edited  by  Mr.  Wright  for  the  Camden  vSociety  ;  Layamon,  by 
Sir  F.  Madden.] 

It  is  in  a  review  of  the  literature  of  England  during  the  period  that 
we  have  just  traversed  that  we  shall  best  understand  the  new  English 
people  with  which  John,  when  driven  from  Normandy,  found  himself 
face  to  face. 

In  his  contest  with  Beket,  Henry  the  Second  had  been  powerfully 
aided  by  the  silent  revolution  which  now  began  to  part  the  purely 
literary  class  from  the  purely  clerical.  During  the  earlier  ages  of  our 
history  we  have  seen  literature  springing  up  in  ecclesiastical  schools, 
and  protecting  itself  against  the  ignorance  and  violence  of  the  time 
under  ecclesiastical  privileges.  Almost  all  our  writers  from  Bseda  to 
the  days  of  the  Angevins  are  clergy  or  monks  The  revival  of  letters 
which  followed  the  Conquest  was  a  purely  ecclesiastical  revival ;  the 
intellectual  impulse  which  Bee  had  given  to  Normandy  travelled  across 
the  Channel  with  the  new  Norman  abbots  who  were  established  in  the 
greater  English  monasteries  ;  and  writing-rooms  or  scriptoria,  where 
the  chief  works  of  Latin  literature,  patristic  or  classical,  were  copied 
and  illuminated,  the  lives  of  saints  compiled,  and  entries  noted  in  the 
monastic  chronicle,  formed  from  this  time  a  part  of  every  religious 
house  of  any  importance.  But  the  literature  which  found  this  religious 
shelter  was  not  so  much  ecclesiastical  as  secular.  Even  the  philoso- 
phical and  devotional  impulse  given  by  Anselm  produced  no  EngHsh 
work  of  theology  or  metaphysics.  The  literary  revival  which  followed 
the  Conquest  took  mainly  the  old  historical  form.  At  Durham,  Turgot 
and  Simeon  threw  into  Latin  shape  the  national  annals  to  the  time  of 


,.The 
literary 
re  vivid 


ii8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAI-, 


Sec.    I. 

English 
Literature 
under  the 
Norman 
AND  Anc;e- 
viN  Kings 


Litera- 
ture and 
the  Court 


VVUliavi  of 
Ma  viesbuty 


The  Court 
historians 


Gerald  of 
Wnles 


Henry  the  First  with  an  especial  reji^ard  to  northern  affairs,  while  the 
earlier  events  of  Stephen's  reign  were  noted  down  by  two  Priors  of 
Hexham  in  the  wild  border-land  between  England  and  the  Scots. 
These  however  were  the  colourless  jottin.;s  of  mere  annalists  ;  it  was 
in  the  Scriptorium  of  Canterbury,  in  Osbern's  lives  of  the  English 
saints,  or  in  Eadmer's  record  of  the  struggle  of  Anselm  against  the 
Red  King  and  his  successor,  that  we  see  the  first  indications  of  a 
distinctively  English  feeling  telling  on  the  new  literature.  The  national 
impulse  is  yet  more  conspicuous  in  the  two  historians  th  it  followed. 
The  war-songs  of  the  English  conquerors  of  Britain  were  preserved  by 
Henry,  an  Archdeacon  of  Huntingdon,  who  wove  them  into  annals 
compiled  from  Baeda  and  the  Chronicle  ;  while  William,  the  librarian 
of  Malmesbury,  as  industriously  collected  the  lighter  ballads  which 
embodied  t.lie  popular  traditions  of  the  English  Kings. 

It  is  in  William  above  all  others  that  we  see  the  new  tendency  of 
English  literature.  In  himself,  as  in  his  work,  he  marks  the  fusion  of 
the  conquerors  and  the  conquered,  for  he  was  of  both  English  and 
Norman  parentage,  and  his  sympathies  were  as  divided  as  his  blood. 
The  form  and  style  of  his  writings  show  the  influence  of  those  classical 
studies  which  were  now  reviving  throughout  Christendom.  Monk  as 
he  is,  he  discards  the  older  ecclesiastical  models  and  the  annalistic 
form.  Events  are  grouped  together  with  no  strict  reference  to  time, 
while  the  lively  narrative  flows  rapidly  and  loosely  along,  with  constant 
breaks  of  digression  over  the  general  history  of  Europe  and  the 
Church.  It  is  in  this  change  of  historic  spirit  that  William  takes  his 
place  as  first  of  the  more  statesmanlike  and  philosophic  school  of 
historians  who  began  soon  to  arise  in  direct  connection  with  the  Court, 
and  amongst  whom  the  author  of  the  chronicle  which  commonly  bears 
the  name  of  "  Benedict  of  Peterborough,"  with  his  continuator  Roger 
of  Howden,  are  the  most  conspicuous.  Both  held  judicial  offices 
under  Henry  the  Second,  and  it  is  to  their  position  at  Court  that  they 
owe  the  fulness  and  accuracy  of  their  information  as  to  affairs  at  home 
and  abroad,  their  copious  supply  of  official  documents,  and  the  purely 
political  temper  with  which  they  regard  the  conflict  of  Church  and 
State  in  their  time.  The  same  freedom  from  ecclesiastical  bias  com- 
bined with  remarkable  critical  ability,  is  found  in  the  history  of 
William,  the  Canon  of  Newburgh,  who  wrote  far  away  in  his  \  orkshire 
monastery.  The  English  court,  however,  had  become  the  centre  of  a 
distinctly  secular  literature.  The  treatise  of  Ranulf  de  Glanvill,  the 
justiciar  of  Henry  the  Second,  is  the  earliest  work  on  English  law,  as 
that  of  the  royal  treasurer,  Richard  Fitz-Neal,  on  the  Evchequer  is  the 
earliest  on  English  government. 

Still  more  distinctly  secular  than  these,  though  the  work  of  a  prie>t 
who  claimed  to  be  a  bishop,  are  the  writings  of  Cicrald  de  Barri. 
Clerald  is  the  father  of  our  popular  literature,  as  he  is  the  originator  of 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


119 


the  political  and  ecclesiastical  pamphlet.  Welsh  blood  (as  his  usual 
name  of  Giraldus  Cambrensis  implies)  mixed  with  Norman  in  his 
veins,  and  something  of  the  restless  Celtic  fire  runs  alike  through  his 
writings  and  his  life.  A  busy  scholar  at  Paris,  a  reforming  archdeacon 
in  Wales,  the  wittiest  of  Court  chaplains,  the  most  troublesome  of 
bishops,  Gerald  became  the  gayest  and  mo  ^t  amusing  of  all  the  authors 
of  his  time.  In  his  hands  the  stately  Latin  tongue  too':  the  vivacity 
and  picturesqueness  of  the  jongleur's  verse.  Reared  as  he  had  been 
in  classical  studies,  he  threw  pedantry  contemptuously  aside.  "It  is 
better  to  be  dumb  than  not  to  be  understood,"  is  his  characteristic 
apology  for  the  novelty  of  his  style  :  "  new  times  require  new  fashions, 
and  so  I  have  thrown  utterly  aside  the  old  and  dry  method  of  some 
authors,  and  aimed  at  adopting  the  fashion  of  speech  which  is  actually 
in  vogue  to-day."  His  tract  on  the  conquest  of  Ireland  and  bis 
account  of  Wales,  which  are  in  fact  reports  of  two  journeys  under- 
taken in  those  countries  with  John  and  Archbishop  Baldwin,  illustrate 
his  rapid  faculty  of  careless  observation,  his  audacity,  and  his  good 
sense.  They  are  just  the  sort  of  lively,  dashing  letters  that  we  find 
in  the  correspondence  of  a  modern  journal.  There  is  the  same  modern 
tone  in  his  political  pamphlets  ;  his  profusion  of  jests,  his  fund  of 
anecdote,  the  aptness  of  his  quotations,  his  natural  shrewdne  s  and 
critical  acumen,  the  clearness  and  vivacity  of  his  style,  are  backed  by 
a  fearlessness  and  impetuosity  that  made  him  a  dangerous  assailant 
even  to  such  a  ruler  as  Henry  the  Second.  The  invectives  in  which 
G  raid  poured  out  his  resentment  against  the  Angevins  are  the  cause 
of  half  the  scandal  about  Henry  and  his  sons  which  has  found  its  way 
into  history.  His  life  was  wasted  in  an  ineffectual  struggle  to  secure 
the  see  of  St.  David's,  but  his  pungent  pen  played  its  part  in  rousing 
the  spirit  of  the  nation  to  its  struggle  with  the  Crown. 

A  tone  of  distinct  hostility  to  the  Church  developed  itself  almost 
from  the  first  among  the  singers  of  romance.  Romance  had  long 
before  taken  root  in  the  court  of  Henry  the  First,  where  under  the 
patronage  of  Queen  Maud  the  dreams  of  Arthur  so  long  cherished  by 
the  Celts  of  Britanny,  and  which  had  travelled  to  Wales  in  the  train  of 
the  exile  Rhys  ap  Tewdor,  took  shape  in  the  History  of  the  Britons 
by  Geoffry  of  Monmouth.  Myth,  legend,  trad.tion,  the  classical  pe- 
dantry of  the  day,  Welsh  hopes  of  future  triumph  over  the  Saxon,  the 
memories  of  the  Crusades  and  of  the  world-wide  dominion  of  Charles 
the  Great,  were  mingled  together  by  this  daring  fabulist  in  a  work 
whose  popularity  became  at  once  immense.  Alfred  of  Beverley  trans- 
ferred Geoffry 's  inventions  into  the  region  of  sober  history,  while  two 
Norman  trouveres,  Gaimar  and  Wace,  translated  them  into  French 
verse.  So  complete  was  the  credence  they  obtained,  that  Arthur's 
tomb  at  Glastonbury  was  visited  by  Henry  the  Second,  while  the  child 
of  his  son  Geoffry  and  of  Constance  of  Britanny  bore  the  name  of  the 


IISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Celtic  hero.  Out  of  Geoffry's  creation  grew  little  by  little  the  poem  of 
the  Table  Round.  Britanny,  which  had  mingled  with  the  story  of 
Arthur  the  older  and  more  mysterious  legend  of  the  Enchanter  Merlin, 
lent  that  of  Lancelot  to  the  wandering  minstrels  of  the  day,  who 
moulded  it,  as  they  wandered  from  hall  to  hall,  into  the  familiar  tale 
of  knighthood  wrested  from  its  loyalty  by  the  love  of  woman.  The 
stories  of  Tristram  and  Gawayne,  at  fir>t  as  independent  as  that  of 
Lancelot,  were  drawn  with  it  into  the  whirlpool  of  Arthurian  romance  ; 
and  when  the  Church,  jealous  of  the  popularity  of  the  legends  of 
chivalry,  invented  as  a  counteracting  influence  the  poem  of  the  Sacred 
Dish,  the  San  Graal  which  held  the  blood  of  the  Cross  invisible  to  all 
eyes  but  those  of  the  pure  in  heart,  the  genius  of  a  court  p)oet,  Walter 
de  Map,  wove  the  rival  legends  together,  s:nt  Arthur  and  his  knights 
wandering  over  sea  and  land  in  the  quest  of  the  San  Graal,  and 
crowned  the  work  by  the  figure  of  Sir  Galahad,  the  type  of  ideal 
knighthood,  without  fear  and  without  reproach. 

Walter  stands  before  us  as  the  representative  of  a  sudden  outburst 
of  literary,  social,  and  religious  criticism  which  followed  the  growth  of 
romance  and  the  appearance  of  a  freer  historical  tone  in  the  court  of 
the  two  Henries.  Born  on  the  Welsh  border,  a  student  at  Paris,  a 
favourite  with  the  King,  a  royal  chaplain,  justiciar,  and  ambassador, 
the  genius  of  Walter  de  Map  was  as  various  as  it  was  j^rolific.  He  is 
as  much  at  his  ease  in  sweeping  together  the  chit-chat  of  the  time  in 
his  "  Courtly  Trifles  "as  in  creating  the  character  of  Sir  Galahad.  But 
he  only  rose  to  his  fullest  strength  when  he  turned  from  the  fields  of 
romance  to  that  of  Church  reform,  and  embodied  the  ecclesiastical 
abuses  of  his  day  in  the  figure  of  his  "  Bishop  Goliath."  The  whole 
spirit  of  Henry  and  his  court  in  their  struggle  with  Beket  is  reflected 
and  illustrated  in  the  apocalypse  and  confession  of  this  imaginary 
prelate.  Picture  after  picture  strips  the  veil  from  the  corruption  of  the 
mediaeval  Church,  its  indolence,  its  thirst  for  gain,  its  secret  immorality. 
The  whole  body  of  the  clergy,  from  Pope  to  hedge-priest,  is  painted  as 
busy  in  the  chase  for  gain  ;  what  escapes  the  bishop  is  snapped  up  by 
the  archdeacon,  what  escapes  the  archdeacon  is  nosed  and  hunted 
down  by  the  dean,  while  a  host  of  minor  officials  prowl  hungrily  around 
these  greater  marauders.  Out  of  the  crowd  of  figures  which  fills  the 
canvas  of  the  satirist,  pluralist  vicars,  abbots  "  purple  as  t'leir  wines," 
monks  feeding  and  chattering  together  like  parrots  in  the  refectory, 
rises  the  Philistine  Bishop,  light  of  purpose,  void  of  conscience,  lost  in 
sensuality,  drunken,  unchaste,  the  Goliath  who  sums  up  the  enormities 
of  all,  and  against  whose  forehead  this  new  David  slings  his  sharp 
pebble  of  the  brook. 

It  is  only,  however,  as  the  writings  of  Englishmen  that  Latin  or 
French  works  like  these  can  be  claimed  as«part  of  English  literature. 
The  spoken  tongue  of  the  nation  at  large  remained  of  course  English 


in.l 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


121 


as  before  ;  William  himself  had  tried  to  learn  it  that  he  might  ad- 
minister justice  to  his  subjects  ;  and  for  a  century  after  the  Conquest 
only  a  few  new  words  crept  in  from  the  language  of  the  conquerors. 
Even  English  literature,  banished  as  it  was  from  the  court  of  the 
stranger  and  exposed  to  the  fashionable  rivalry  of  Latin  scholars, 
survived  not  only  in  religious  works,  in  poetic  paraphrases  of  gospels 
and  psalms,  but  in  the  great  monument  of  our  prose,  the  English 
Chronicle.  It  was  not  till  the  miserable  reign  of  Stephen  that  the 
Chronicle  died  out  in  the  Abbey  of  Peterborough.  But  the  "  Sayings 
of  vElfred,"  which  embodied  the  ideal  of  an  English  king  and  gathered 
a  legendary  worship  round  the  great  name  of  the  English  past,  show 
a  native  literature  going  on  through  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Second. 
The  appearance  of  a  great  work  of  English  verse  coincides  in  point 
of  time  with  the  loss  of  Normandy,  and  the  return  of  John  to  his 
island  realm.  "  There  was  a  priest  in  the  land  whose  name  was  Laya- 
mon  ;  he  was  son  of  Leovenath :  may  the  Lord  be  gracious  to  him  ! 
He  dwelt  at  Earnley,  a  noble  church  on  the  bank  of  Severn  (good  it 
seemed  to  him  !)  near  Radstone,  where  he  read  books.  It  came  in 
mind  to  him  and  in  his  chiefest  thought  that  he  would  tell  the  noble 
deeds  of  England,  what  the  men  were  named,  and  whence  they  came, 
who  first  had  English  land."  Journeying  far  and  wide  over  the  land, 
the  priest  of  Earnley  found  Baeda  and  Wace,  the  books  too  of  S.  Albin 
and  S.  Austin.  "  Layamon  laid  down  these  books  and  turned  the 
leaves  ;  he  beheld  them  lovingly :  may  the  Lord  be  gracious  to  him  ! 
Pen  he  took  with  fingers  and  wrote  a  book-skin,  and  the  true  words  set 
together,  and  compressed  the  three  books  into  one."  Layamon's  church 
is  now  Areley,  near  Bewdley,  in  Worcestershire.  His  poem  was  in 
fact  an  expansion  of  Wace's  "  Brut,"  with  insertions  from  Baeda. 
Historically  it  is  worthless,  but  as  a  monument  of  our  language  it  is 
beyond  all  price.  After  Norman  and  Angevin  English  remained  un- 
changed. In  more  than  thirty  thousand  lines  not  more  than  fifty 
Norman  words  are  to  be  found.  Even  the  old  poetic  tradition  remains 
the  same  ;  the  alliterative  metre  of  the  earlier  verse  is  only  slightly 
affected  by  riming  terminations,  the  similes  are  the  few  natural 
similes  of  Caedmon,  the  battles  are  painted  with  the  same  rou^^h, 
simple  joy.  It  is  by  no  mere  accident  that  the  English  tongue 
thus  wakes  again  into  written  life  on  the  eve  of  the  great  struggle 
between  the  nation  and  its  King.  The  artificial  forms  imposed 
by  the  Conquest  were  falling  away  from  the  people  as  from  its 
literature,  and  a  new  England,  quickened  by  the  Celtic  vivacity  of 
de  Map  and  the  Norman  daring  of  Gerald,  stood  forth  to  its  conflict 
with  John. 


122 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Section  II.— John,  1204^1315. 

[Authorities.  -  Our  chief  sources  of  information  are  the  Chronicle  embodiea 
in  the  "Memoriale"  of  Waller  of  Coventry  ;  and  the  ''Chronicle  of  Roger 
of  Wendover,"  the  first  of  the  published  annalists  of  S.  Alban's,  whose  work 
was  subsequently  revised  and  continued  in  a  more  patriot ic  tone  by  another 
monk  of  the  same  abbey,  Matthew  Paris.  The  Annals  of  Waverley,  Dunstable, 
and  Burton  are  important  for  the  period.  The  great  series  of  the  Royal 
Rolls  begin  now  to  be  of  the  highest  value.  The  French  authorities  as 
before.  For  Langton,  see  Hook's  biography  in  the  "  Lives  of  the  Arch- 
bishops." 'I  he  best  modern  account  of  this  reign  is  in  Mr.  Pearson's  *'  History 
of  England,"  vol.  ii.] 

"  Foul  as  it  is,  hell  itself  is  defiled  by  the  fouler  presence  of  John." 
The  terrible  verdict  of  the  King's  contemporaries  has  passed  into  the 
sober  judgement  of  history.  Externally  John  possessed  all  the  quick- 
ness, the  vivacity,  the  cleverness,  the  good-humour,  the  social  charm 
which  distinguished  his  house.  His  worst  enemies  owned  that  he 
toiled  steadily  and  closely  at  the  work  of  administration.  He  was 
fond  of  learned  men  like  Gerald  of  Wales.  He  had  a  strange  gift  of 
attracting  friends  and  of  winning  the  love  of  women.  But  in  his  inner 
soul  John  w  IS  the  worst  outcome  of  the  Angevins.  He  united  into  one 
mass  of  wickedness  their  insolence,  their  selfishness,  their  unbridled 
lust,  their  cruelty  and  tyranny,  their  shamelessness,  their  superstition, 
their  cynical  indifference  to  honour  or  truth.  In  mere  boyhood  he  had 
torn  with  brutal  levity  the  beards  of  the  Irish  chieftains  who  ca-ne  to 
own  him  as  their  lord.  His  ingratitude  and  perfidy  had  brought 
down  his  father  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  To  his  brother  he  had 
been  the  worst  of  traitors.  All  Christendom  believed  him  to  be  the 
murderer  of  his  nephew,  Arthur  of  Britanny.  He  abandoned  one  wife 
and  was  faithless  to  another.  His  punishments  were  refinements  of 
cruelty — the  starvation  of  children,  the  crushing  old  men  under  copes 
of  lead.  His  court  was  a  brothel  where  no  woman  was  safe  from  the 
royal  lust,  and  where  his  cynicism  loved  to  publish  the  news  of  his 
victims'  shame.  He  was  as  craven  in  his  suj  erstition  as  he  was 
daring  in  his  impiety.  He  scoffed  at  priests  and  turned  his  back  on 
the  mass  even  amidst  the  solemnities  of  his  coronation,  but  he  never 
stirred  on  a  journey  without  hanging  relics  round  his  neck.  But  wii.i 
the  supreme  wickedness  of  his  race  he  inherited  its  profound  ability. 
His  plan  ior  the  relief  of  Chateau-Gaillard,  the  rapid  march  by  which 
he  shattered  Arthur's  hopes  at  Mirebeau,  showed  an  inborn  genius  for 
war.  In  the  rapidity  and  breadth  of  his  political  combinations  he  far 
surpassed  the  statesmen  of  his  time.  Throughout  his  reign  we  see 
him  quick  to  discern  the  difficulties  of  his  position,  and  incxhaustmlc 
in  the  resources  with    which  he  met  them.     The  overthrow  of  his 


HI.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


t23 


continental  power  only  spurred  him  to  the  formation  of  a  great  league 
which  all  but  brought  Philip  to  the  ground  ;  and  the  sudden  revolt  of 
all  England  was  parried  by  a  shameless  alliance  with  the  Papacy. 
The  closer  study  of  John's  history  clears  away  the  charges  of  sloth  and 
incapacity  with  which  men  tried  to  explain  the  greatness  of  his  fall. 
The  awful  lesson  of  his  life  rests  on  the  fact  that  it  was  no  weak  and 
indolent  voluptuary,  but  the  ablest  and  most  ruthless  of  the  Angevins 
who  lost  Normandy,  became  the  vassal  of  the  Pope,  and  perished  in  a 
struggle  of  despair  against  English  freedom. 

The  whole  energies  of  the  King  were  bent  on  the  recovery  of  his  lost 
dominions  on  the  Continent.  He  impatiently  collected  money  and  men 
for  the  support  of  the  adherents  of  the  House  of  Anjou  who  were  still 
struggling  against  the  arms  of  France  in  Poitou  and  Guienne,  and  had 
assembled  an  army  at  Portsmouth  in  the  summer  of  1205,  when  his 
project  was  suddenly  thwarted  by  the  resolute  opposition  of  the 
Primate  and  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  William  Marshal.  So  completely 
had  both  the  baronage  and  the  Church  been  humbled  by  his  father, 
that  the  attitude  of  their  representatives  indicated  the  new  spirit  of 
national  freedom  which  was  rising  around  the  King.  John  at  once 
braced  himself  to  a  struggle  with  it.  The  death  of  Hubert  Walter,  a 
few  weeks  after  his  protest,  enabled  him,  as  it  seemed,  to  neutralize 
the  opposition  of  the  Church  by  placing  a  creature  of  hi's  own  at  its 
head.  John  de  Grey,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  was  elected  by  the  mon'  s 
of  Canterbury  at  his  bidding  and  enthroned  as  Primate.  In  a  previous 
though  informal  gathering,  however,  the  convent  had  already  chosen 
its  sub-prior,  Reginald,  as  Archbishop,  and  the  rival  claimants  hastened 
to  appeal  to  Rome  ;  but  the  result  of  their  appeal  was  a  startling  one 
both  for  themselves  and  for  the  King.  Innocent  the  Third,  who  now 
occupied  the  Papal  throne,  had  pushed  its  claims  of  supremacy  over 
Christendom  further  than  any  of  his  predecessors  :  after  a  careful 
examination  he  quashed  both  the  contested  elections.  The  decision 
was  probably  a  just  one  ;  but  Innocent  did  not  stop  there;  whether 
from  love  of  power,  or,  as  may  fairly  be  supposed,  in  despair  of  a  free 
election  within  English  bounds,  he  commanded  the  monks  who  ap- 
peared before  him  to  elect  in  his  presence  Stephen  Langton  to  the 
archi^piscopal  see.  Personally  a  better  choice  could  not  have  been 
made,  for  Stephen  was  a  man  who  by  sheer  weight  of  learning  and 
holiness  of  life  had  risen  to  the  dignity  of  Cardinal,  and  whose  after 
career  placed  him  in  the  front  rank  of  English  patriots.  But  in  itself 
the  step  was  an  usurpation  of  the  rights  both  of  the  Church  and  of  the 
Crown.  The  King  at  once  met  it  with  resistance,  and  replied  to  the 
Papal  threats  of  interdict  if  Langton  were  any  longer  excluded  from 
his  see,  by  a  counter  threat  that  the  interdict  should  be  followed  by 
the  banishment  of  the  clergy  and  the  mutilation  of  every  Italian  he 
could  seize  in  the  realm.     Innocent,  however,  was  not  a  man  to  draw 


124 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


back  from  his  purpose,  and  the  interdict  fell  at  last  upon  the  land. 
All  worship  save  that  of  a  few  privileged  orders,  all  administration  ot 
the  Sacraments  save  that  of  private  baptism,  ceased  over  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  country  :  the  church- bells  were  silent,  the  dead  lay 
unDuried  on  the  ground.  The  King  replied  by  confiscating  the  lands 
of  the  clergy  who  observed  the  interdict,  by  subjecting  them  in  spite 
of  their  privileges  to  the  royal  courts,  and  often  by  leaving  outrages  on 
them  unpunished.  "  Let  him  go,"  said  John,  when  a  Welshman  was 
brought  before  him  for  the  murder  of  a  priest,  **he  has  killed  my 
enemy  ! "  A  year  passed  before  the  Pope  proceeded  to  the  further 
sentence  of  excommunication.  John  was  now  formally  cut  off  from 
the  pale  of  the  Church  ;  but  the  new  sentence  was  met  with  the  same 
defiance  as  the  old.  Five  of  the  bishops  fled  over  sea,  and  secret 
disaffection  was  spreading  widely,  but  there  was  no  public  avoidance 
of  the  excoTjmunicated  King.  An  Archdeacon  of  Norwich  who 
withdrew  from  his  service  was  crushed  to  death  under  a  cope  of  lead, 
and  the  hint  was  sufficient  to  prevent  either  prelate  or  noble  from 
following  his  example.  Though  the  King  stood  alone,  with  nobles 
estranged  from  him  and  the  Church  against  him,  his  strength  seemed 
utterly  unbroken.  From  the  first  moment  of  his  rule  John  had  defied 
the  baronage.  The  promise  to  satisfy  their  demand  for  redress  of 
wrongs  in  the  past  reign,  a  promise  made  at  his  election,  remained 
unfulfilled  ;  when  the  demand  was  repeated  he  answered  it  by  seizing 
their  castles  and  taking  their  children  as  hostages  for  their  loyalty. 
The  cost  of  his  fruitless  threats  of  war  had  been  met  by  heavy  and 
repeated  taxation.  The  quarrel  with  the  Church  and  fear  of  their 
revolt  only  deepened  his  oppression  of  the  nobles.  He  drove  De 
Braose,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Lords  Marchers,  to  die  in 
exile,  while  his  wife  and  grandchildren  were  believed  to  have  been 
starved  to  death  in  the  royal  prisons.  On  the  nobles  who  still  clung 
panic-stricken  to  the  court  of  the  excommunicate  king  John  heaped 
outrages  worse  than  death.  Illegal  exactions,  the  seizure  of  their 
castles,  the  preference  shown  to  foreigners,  were  small  provocations 
compared  with  his  attacks  on  the  honour  of  their  wives  and  daughters. 
But  the  baronage  still  submitted  ;  and  the  King's  vigour  was  seen  by 
the  rapidity  with  which  he  crushed  a  rising  of  the  nobles  in  Ireland, 
and  foiled  an  outbreak  of  the  Welsh.  Hated  as  he  was  the  land 
remained  still.  Only  one  weapon  now  remained  in  Innocent's  hands. 
An  excommunicate  king  had  ceased  to  be  a  Christian,  or  to  have 
claims  on  the  obedience  of  Christian  subjects.  As  spiritual  heads  of 
Christendom,  the  Popes  had  ere  now  asserted  their  right  to  remove 
such  a  ruler  from  his  throne  and  to  give  it  to  a  worthier  than  he  ;  and 
this  right  Innocent  at  last  felt  himself  driven  to  exercise.  He  issued  a 
bull  of  deposition  against  John,  proclaimed  a  crusade  against  him, 
and  committed  the  execution  of  his  sentence  to  Philip  of  France 


rii.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


125 


John  met  it  with  the  same  scorn  as  before.  His  insolent  disdain 
suffered  the  Roman  legate,  Cardinal  Pandulf,  to  proclaim  his  deposi- 
tion to  his  face  at  Northampton.  An  enormous  army  gatliered  at  his 
call  on  Barham  Down  ;  and  the  English  fleet  dispelled  all  danger  of 
invasion  by  crossing  the  Channel,  by  capturing  a  number  of  French 
ships,  and  by  burning  Dieppe. 

But  it  was  not  in  England  only  that  the  King  showed  his  strength 
and  activity.  Vile  as  he  was,  John  possessed  in  a  high  degree  the 
political  ability  of  his  race,  and  in  the  diplomatic  efforts  with  which 
he  met  the  danger  from  France  he  showed  himself  his  father's  equal. 
The  barons  of  Poitou  were  roused  to  attack  Philip  from  the  south. 
John  bought  the  aid  of  the  Count  of  Flanders  on  his  rjxjrthern  border. 
The  German  King,  C  tto,  pledged  himself  to  bring  the  knighthood  of 
Germany  to  support  an  invasion  of  France.  But  at  the  moment  of  his 
success  in  diplomacy  John  suddenly  gave  way.  It  was  in  fact  the 
revelation  of  a  danger  at  home  which  shook  him  from  his  attitude  of 
contemptuous  defiance.  The  bull  of  deposition  gave  fresh  energy  to 
every  enemy.  The  Scotch  King  was  in  correspondence  with  Innocent. 
The  Welsh  princes  who  had  just  been  forced  to  submission  broke  out 
again  in  war.  John  hanged  their  hostages,  and  called  his  host  to  muster 
for  a  fresh  inroad  into  Wales,  but  the  army  met  only  to  become  a 
fresh  source  of  danger.  Powerless  to  resist  openly,  the  baronage  had 
plunged  almost  to  a  man  into  secret  conspiracies  ;  many  promised  aid 
to  Philip  on  his  landing.  John,  in  the  midst  of  hidden  enemies,  was 
only  saved  by  the  haste  with  which  he  disbanded  his  army  and  took 
refuge  in  Nottingham  Castle.  His  daring  self-confidence,  the  s'.ill  of 
his  diplomacy,  could  no  longer  hide  from  him  the  utter  loneliness  of 
his  position.  At  war  with  Rome,  with  France,  with  Scotland,  Ireland 
and  Wales,  at  war  with  the  Church,  he  saw  himself  disarmed  by  this 
sudden  revelation  of  treason  in  the  one  force  left  at  his  disposal. 
With  characteristic  suddenness  he  gave  way.  He  endeavoured  by 
remission  of  fines  to  win  back  his  people.  He  negotiated  eagerly  with 
the  Pope,  consented  to  receive  the  Archbishop,  and  promised  to  repay 
the  money  he  had  extorted  from  the  Church.  The  shameless  ingenuity 
of  the  King's  temper  was  seen  in  his  immediate  resolve  to  make 
Rome  his  ally,  to  turn  its  spiritual  thunder  against  his  foes,  to  use  it 
in  breaking  up  the  confederacy  it  had  formed  against  him.  His  quick 
versatile  temper  saw  the  momentary  gain  to  be  won.  On  the  15th  of 
May  1 21 3  he  knelt  before  the  legate  Pandulf,  surrendered  his  kingdom 
to  the  Roman  See,  took  it  back  again  as  a  tributary  vassal,  swore 
fealty  and  did  liege  homage  to  the  Pope. 

In  after  times  men  believed  that  England  thrilled  at  the  news  with  a 
sense  of  national  shame  such  as  she  had  never  felt  before.  "  He  has 
become  the  Pope's  man,"  the  whole  country  was  said  to  have  mur- 
mured ;  "  he  has  forfeited  the  very  name  of  King  ;  from  a  free  man  he 


126 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


has  degraded  himself  into  a  serf."  But  we  see  little  trace  of  such  a 
feeling  in  the  contemporary  accounts  of  the  time.  As  a  political 
measure  indeed  the  success  of  John's  submission  was  complete.  The 
French  army  at  once  broke  up  in  impotent  rage,  and  when  Philip 
turned  against  the  ene  ny  whom  John  had  raised  up  for  him  in 
F'landers,  five  hundred  English  ships  under  the  Earl  of  Sali  ,bury  fell 
upon  the  fleet  which  accompanied  his  army  along  the  coast  and 
utterly  destroyed  it.  The  league  which  John  had  so  long  matured  at 
last  disclosed  itself  The  King  himself  landed  in  Poitou,  rallied  its 
nobles  round  him,  crossed  the  Loire  in  triumph,  and  won  back  Angers, 
the  home  of  his  race.  At  the  same  time  Otto,  reinforcing  his  German 
army  by  the  knighthood  of  Flanders  and  Boulogne  as  well  a=i  by  a 
body  of  English  troops,  threatened  France  from  the  north.  For  the 
moment  Philip  seemed  lost,  and  yet  on  the  fortunes  ot  Philip  hung  the 
fortunes  of  English  freedom.  But  in  this  crisis  of  her  fate  France  was 
true  to  herself  and  her  King  ;  the  townsmen  marched  from  every 
borou:4h  to  Philip's  rescue,  priests  led  their  flocks  to  battle  with  the 
Church  banners  flying  at  their  head.  The  two  armies  met  near  the 
bridge  of  Bouvines,  between  Lille  and  Tournay,  and  from  the  first  the 
day  went  against  the  allies.  The  Flemish  were  the  first  to  fly  ;  then 
the  Germans  in  the  centre  were  overwhelmed  by  the  numbers  of  the 
French  ;  last  of  all  the  English  on  the  right  were  broken  by  a  fierce 
onset  of  the  Bishop  of  Beauvais,  who  charged  mace  in  hand  and 
struck  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  to  the  ground.  The  news  of  this  complete 
overthrow  reached  John  in  the  midst  of  his  triumphs  in  the  South,  and 
scattered  his  hopes  to  the  winds.  He  was  at  once  deserted  by  the 
Poitevin  nobles,  and  a  hasty  retreat  alone  enabled  him  to  return, 
baffled  and  humiliated,  to  his  island  kingdom. 

It  is  to  the  victory  of  Bouvines  that  England  owes  her  Great 
Charier.  From  the  hour  of  his  submission  to  the  Papacy,  John's  ven- 
geance on  the  barons  had  only  been  delayed  till  he  should  return  a 
conqueror  from  the  fields  of  France.  A  sense  of  their  danger  nerved 
the  baronage  to  resistance  ;  they  refused  to  follow  the  King  on  his 
foreign  campaign  till  the  excommunication  were  removed,  and  when  it 
was  removed  they  still  refused,  on  the  plea  that  they  were  not  bound 
to  serve  in  wars  without  the  realm.  Furious  as  he  was  at  this  new  atti- 
tude of  resistance,  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  vengeance,  and  John 
sailed  for  Poitou  with  the  dream  of  a  great  victory  which  should  lay 
Philip  and  the  barons  alike  at  his  feet.  He  returned  froiti  his  defeat 
to  find  the  nobles  no  longer  banded  together  in  secret  conspiracies,  but 
openly  united  in  a  definite  claim  of  liberty  and  law.  The  leader  in 
this  great  change  was  the  new  Archbishop  whom  Innocent  had  set  on 
the  throne  of  Canterbury.  From  the  moment  of  his  landing  in  Eng- 
land, Stephen  Langton  had  assumed  the  constitutional  position  of  the 
Primate  as  champion  of  the  old  English  customs  and  law  agamst  the 


III.J 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


127 


personal  despotism  of  the  kings.  As  Anselin  had  withstood  William 
the  Red,  as  Theobald  had  rescued  England  from  the  lawlessness  of 
Stephen,  so  Langton  prepared  to  withstand  and  rescue  his  rountry 
from  the  tyranny  of  John.  He  had  already  forced  him  to  swear  to 
observe  the  laws  of  the  Confessor,  a  phrase  in  which  the  whole  of  the 
national  liberties  were  summed  up.  When  the  baronage  refused  to 
sail  to  Poitou,  he  compelled  the  King  to  deal  with  them  not  by  arms 
but  by  process  of  law.  Far  however  from  being  satisfied  with  resist- 
ance such  as  this  to  isolated  acts  of  tyranny,  it  was  the  Archbishop's 
aim  to  restore  on  a  formal  basis  the  older  freedom  of  the  realm.  The 
pledges  of  Henry  the  First  had  long  been  forgotten  when  the  Justiciar, 
Geoffrey  Fitz- Peter,  brought  them  to  light  at  a  Council  held  at  S. 
Albans.  There  in  the  King's  name  the  Justiciar  promised  good 
government  for  the  time  to  come,  and  forbade  all  royal  officers  to 
practise  extortion  as  they  prized  life  and  limb.  The  King's  peace  was 
pledged  to  those  who  had  opposed  him  in  the  past  ;  and  observance 
of  the  laws  of  Henry  the  First  was  enjoined  upon  all  within  the  realm. 
Langton  saw  the  vast  importance  of  such  a  precedent.  In  a  fresh 
meeting  of  the  barons  at  S.  Paul's  he  produced  the  Charter  of  Henry 
the  First,  and  it  was  at  once  welcomed  as  a  base  for  the  needed 
reforms.  All  hope  however  hung  on  the  fortunes  of  the  French  cam- 
paign ;  the  victory  at  Bouvines  gave  strength  to  John's  opponents,  and 
after  the  King's  landing  the  barons  secretly  met  at  S.  Edmundsbury, 
and  swore  to  demand  from  him,  if  needful  by  force  of  arms,  the  re- 
storation of  their  liberties  by  Charter  under  the  King's  seal.  E.irly  in 
January  in  the  year  121 5  they  presented  themselves  in  arms  before 
the  King,  and  preferred  their  claim.  The  few  months  that  followed 
showed  John  the  uselessness  of  resistance  ;  nobles  and  Churchmen 
were  alike  arrayed  against  him,  and  the  commissioners  whom  he  sent 
to  plead  his  cause  at  the  shire-courts  brought  back  the  news  that  no 
man  would  help  him  against  the  Charter.  At  Easter  the  barons  again 
gathered  in  arms  at  Brackley,  and  renewed  their  claim.  "Why  do 
they  not  ask  for  my  kingdom  ?"  cried  John  in  a  burst  of  passion  ;  but 
the  whole  country  rose  as  one  man  at  his  refusal.  London  threw  open 
her  gates  to  the  forces  of  the  barons,  now  organised  under  Robert 
Fitz-Walter  as  "  Marshal  of  the  Army  of  God  and  Holy  Church."  The 
example  of  the  capital  was  followed  by  Exeter  and  Lincoln  ;  promises 
of  aid  came  from  Scotland  and  Wales  ;  the  northern  barons  marched 
hastily  to  join  their  comrades  in  London.  There  was  a  moment  when 
John  found  himself  with  seven  knights  at  his  back,  and  before  him  a 
nation  in  arms.  He  had  summoned  mercenaries  and  appealed  to  his 
liege  lord,  the  Pope  ;  but  summons  and  appeal  were  alike  too  late. 
Nursing  wrath  in  his  heart  the  tyrant  bowed  to  necessity,  and  called 
he  barons  to  a  conference  at  Runnymede. 


128 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


FCHAP. 


Section  III.— The  Great  Charter,  1215-1917. 

[Authorities. — The  text  of  the  Charter  is  given  by  Dr.  Stubbs,  with 
valuable  comments,  in  his  "Select  Charters."  Mr.  Pearson  gives  a  useful 
analysis  of  it.] 

An  island  in  the  Thames  between  Staines  and  Windsor  had  been 
chosen  as  the  place  of  conference  :  the  King  encamped  on  one  bank, 
while  the  barons  covered  the  marshy  flat,  still  known  by  the  name  of 
Runnymede,  on  the  other.  Their  delegates  met  in  the  island  between 
them,  but  the  negotiations  were  a  mere  cloak  to  cover  John's  purpose 
of  unconditional  submission.  The  Great  Charter  was  discussed,  agreed 
to,  and  signed  in  a  single  day. 

One  copy  of  it  still  remains  in  the  British  Museum,  injured  by  age 
and  fire,  but  with  the  royal  seal  still  hanging  from  the  brown,  shrivelled 
parchment.  It  is  impossible  to  gaze  without  reverence  on  the  earliest 
monument  of  English  freedom  which  we  can  see  with  our  own  eyes 
and  touch  with  our  own  hands,  the  great  Charter  to  which  from  age 
to  age  patriots  have  looked  back  as  the  basis  of  English  liberty.  But 
in  itself  the  Charter  was  no  novelty,  nor  did  it  claim  to  establish  any 
new  constitutional  priliciples.  The  Charter  of  Henry  the  First  formed 
the  basis  of  the  whole,  and  the  additions  to  it  are  for  the  most  part 
formal  recognitions  of  the  judicial  aijd  administrative  changes  intro- 
duced by  Henry  the  Second.  But  the  vague  expressions  of  the  older 
charter  were  now  exchanged  for  precise  and  elaborate  provisions. 
The  bonds  of  unwritten  custom  which  the  older  grant  did  little  more 
than  recognize  had  proved  too  weak  to  hold  the  Angevins  ;  and  the 
baronage  now  threw  them  aside  for  the  restraints  of  written  law.  It  is 
in  this  way  that  the  Great  Charter  marks  the  transition  from  the  age 
of  traditional  rights,  preserved  in  the  nation's  memory  and  officially 
declared  by  the  Primate,  to  the  age  of  written  legislation,  of  Parlia- 
ments and  Statutes,  which  was  soon  to  come.  The  Church  had  shown 
its  power  of  self-defence  in  the  struggle  over  the  interdict,  and  the 
clause  which  recognized  its  rights  alone  retained  the  older  and  general 
form.  But  all  vagueness  ceases  when  the  Charter  passes  on  to  deal 
with  the  rights  of  Englishmen  at  large,  their  right  to  justice,  to  secirity 
of  person  and  property,  to  good  government.  "No  freeman,"  ran  the 
memorable  article  that  lies  at  the  base  of  our  whole  judicial  system, 
"  shall  be  seized  or  imprisoned,  or  dispossessed,  or  outlawed,  or  in  any 
way  brought  to  ruin  :  we  will  not  go  against  any  man  nor  send  against 
him,  save  by  legal  judgeinent  of  his  peers  or  by  the  law  of  the  land." 
"To  no  man  will  we  sell,"  runs  another,  "or  deny,  or  delay,  right  or 
justice."  The  great  reforms  of  the  past  reigns  were  now  formally 
recognized  ;  judges  of  assize  were  to  hold  their  circuits  four  times  in 


IIJl 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


129 


the  year,  and  the  King's  Court  was  no  longer  to  follow  the  King  in  his 
wanderings  over  the  realm,  but  to  sit  in  a  fixed  place.  But  the  denial 
of  justice  under  John  was  a  small  danger  compared  with  the  lawless 
exactions  both  of  himself  and  his  predecessor.  Richard  had  increased 
the  amount  of  the  scutage  which  Henry  the  Second  had  introduced,  and 
ar  plied  it  to  raise  funds  for  his  ransom.  He  had  restored  the  Dane- 
geld,  or  land-tax,  so  often  abolished,  under  the  new  name  of  "carucage," 
had  seized  the  wool  of  the  Cistercians  and  the  plate  of  the  churches, 
and  rated  moveables  as  well  as  land.  John  had  again  raised  the  rate  of 
scutage,  and  imposed  aids,  fines,  and  ransoms  at  his  pleasure  without 
counsel  of  the  baronage.  The  Great  Charter  met  this  abuse  by  the 
provision  on  which  our  constitutional  system  rests.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  the  three  customary  feudal  aids  which  still  remained  to  the 
Crown,  "  no  scutage  or  aid  shall  be  imposed  in  our  realm  save  by  the 
common  council  of  the  realm  ; "  and  to  this  Great  Council  it  was  pro- 
vided that  prelates  and  the  greater  barons  should  be  summoned  "by 
special  writ,  and  all  tenants  in  chief  through  the  sheriffs  and  bailiffs, 
at  least  forty  days  before.  The  provision  defined  what  hai  probably 
been  the  common  usage  of  the  realm  ;  but  the  definition  turned  it  into 
a  national  right,  a  right  so  momentous  that  on  it  rests  our  whole 
Parliamentary  life. 

The  rights  which  the  barons  claimed  for  themselves  they  claimed 
for  the  nation  at  large.  The  boon  of  free  and  unbought  justice  was 
a  boon  for  all,  but  a  special  provision  protected  the  poor.  The  for- 
feiture of  the  freeman  on  conviction  of  felony  was  never  to  include  his 
tenement,  or  that  of  the  merchant  his  wares,  or  that  of  the  countryman 
his  wain.  The  means  of  actual  livelihood  were  to  be  left  even  to  the 
worst.  The  under-tenants  or  farmers  were  protected  against  all  law- 
less exactions  of  their  lords  in  precisely  the  same  terms  as  these  were 
protected  against  the  lawless  exactions  of  the  Crown.  The  towns  were 
secured  in  the  enjoyment  of  their  municipal  privileges,  their  freedom 
from  arbitrary  taxation,  their  rights  of  justice,  of  common  dehberation, 
of  regulation  of  trade.  "  Let  the  city  of  London  have  all  its  old  liber- 
ties and  its  free  customs,  as  well  by  land  as  by  water.  Besides  this, 
we  will  and  grant  that  all  other  cities,  and  boroughs,  and  towns,  and 
ports,  have  all  their  liberties  and  free  customs."  The  influence  of  the 
trading  class  is  seen  in  two  other  enactments,  by  which  freedom  of 
journeying  and  trade  was  secured  to  foreign  merchants,  and  an  uni- 
formity of  weights  and  measures  was  ordered  to  be  enforced  throughout 
the  realm.  There  remained  only  one  question,  and  that  the  most 
difficult  of  all  ;  the  question  how  to  secure  this  order  which  the  Charter 
had  estab.ished  in  the  actual  government  of  tha  realm.  The  immediate 
abuses  were  easily  swept  away,  the  hostages  restored  to  their  homes, 
the  foreigners  banished  from  the  country  But  it  was  less  easy  to 
provide  means  for  the  control  of  a  King  whom  no  man  could  trust, 


I30 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAK 


and  a  council  of  twenty-five  barons  were  chosen  from  the  general  body 
of  their  order  to  enforce  on  John  the  observance  of  the  Charter,  with 
the  right  of  declaring  war  on  the  King  should  its  provisions  be 
infringed.  Finally,  the  Charter  was  published  throughout  the  whole 
country,  and  sworn  to  at  every  hundred-mote  and  town-mote  by  order 
from  the  King. 

"  They  have  given  me  five-and-twenty  over-kings,"  cried  John  in  a 
burst  of  fury,  flinging  himself  on  the  floor  and  gnawing  sticks  and  stra\ir 
in  his  impotent  rage.  But  the  rage  soon  passed  into  the  subtle  policy 
of  which  he  was  a  master.  Some  diys  after  he  left  Windsor,  and 
lingered  for  months  along  the  southern  shore,  waiting  for  news  of  the 
aid  he  had  solicited  from  Rome  and  from  the  Continent.  It  was  not 
without  definite  purpose  that  he  had  become  the  vassal  of  Rome. 
While  Innocent  was  dreaming  of  a  vast  Christian  Empire  wilh  the 
Pope  at  its  head  to  enforce  justice  and  religion  on  his  under-kings, 
John  believed  that  the  Papal  protection  would  enable  him  to  rule  as 
tyrannically  as  he  would.  The  thunders  of  the  Papacy  were  to  be 
ever  at  hand  for  his  protection,  as  the  armies  of  England  are  at  hand 
to  protect  the  vileness  and  oppression  of  a  Turkish  Sultan  or  a  Nizam 
of  Hyderabad.  His  envoys  were  already  at  Rome,  and  Innocent, 
indignant  that  a  matter  which  might  have  been  brought  before  his 
court  of  appeal  as  overlord  should  have  been  dealt  with  by  armed 
revolt,  annulled  the  Great  Charter  and  suspended  Stephen  Langton 
from  the  exercise  of  his  office  as  Primate.  Autumn  brought  a  host  of 
foreign  soldiers  from  over  sea  to  the  King's  standard,  and  advancing 
against  the  disorganized  forces  of  the  barons,  John  starved  Rochester 
into  submission  and  marched  ravaging  through  the  midland  counties 
to  the  North,  while  his  mercenaries  spread  like  locusts  over  the  whole 
face  of  the  land.  From  Berwick  the  King  turned  back  triumphant  to 
coop  up  his  enemies  in  London,  while  fresh  Papal  excommunications 
fell  on  the  barons  and  the  city.  Hut  the  burghers  set  Innocent  at 
defiance.  "The  ordering  of  secular  matters  appertaineth  not  to  the 
Pope,"  they  said,  in  words  that  seem  like  mutterings  of  the  coming 
Lollardry  ;  and  at  the  advice  of  Simon  Langton,  the  Archbishop's 
brother,  bells  swung  out  and  mass  was  celebrated  as  before.  With 
the  undisciplined  militia  of  the  country  and  the  towns,  however,  suc- 
cess was  impossible  against  the  trained  forces  of  the  King,  and  despair 
drove  the  barons  to  seek  aid  from  France.  Philip  had  long  been 
waiting  the  opportunity  for  his  revenge  upon  John,  and  his  son  Lewis 
at  once  accepted  the  crown  in  spite  of  Innocent's  excommunications, 
and  landed  in  Kent  with  a  considerable  force.  As  the  barons  had 
foreseen,  the  French  mercenaries  who  constituted  John's  host  refused 
lo  fight  against  the  French  sovereign.  The  whole  aspect  of  aflairswas 
suddenly  reversed.  Deserted  by  the  bulk  of  his  troops,  the  King  was 
forced  to  fall  rapidly  back  on  the  Welsh  Marches,  while  his  rivai 


III.j 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


i^i 


entered  London  and  received  the  submission  of  the  larger  part  of 
England.  Only  Dover  held  out  obstinately  against  Lewis.  By  a 
series  of  rapid  marches  John  succeeded  in  distracting  the  plans  of  the 
barons  and  in  relieving  Lincoln  ;  then  after  a  short  stay  at  Lynn  he 
crossed  the  Wash  in  a  fresh  movement  to  the  north.  In  crossing, 
however,  his  army  was  surprised  by  the  tide,  and  his  baggage  with 
the  royal  treasures  washed  away. 

The  fever  which  seized  the  baffled  tyrant  in  the  abbey  of  Swineshead 
was  inflamed  by  a  gluttonous  debauch,  and  John  entered  Newark  only 
to  die.  His  death  changed  the  whole  face  of  affairs,  for  his  son  Henry 
was  but  a  child  of  nine  years  old,  and  the  royal  authority  passed  into 
the  hands  of  one  who  stands  high  among  English  patriots,  William 
Marshal.  The  boy-king  was  hardly  crowned  when  the  Earl  and  the 
Papal  Legate  issued  in  his  name  the  very  Charter  against  which  his 
father  had  died  fighting  ;  only  the  clauses  which  regulated  taxation 
and  the  summoning  of  Parliament  were  as  yet  declared  to  be  sus- 
pended. The  nobles  soon  streamed  away  from  the  French  camp  ;  for 
national  jealousy  and  suspicions  of  treason  told  heavily  against  Lewis, 
while  the  pity  which  was  excited  by  the  youth  and  helplessness  of 
Henry  was  aided  by  a  sense  of  injustice  in  burthening  the  child  with 
the  iniquity  of  his  father.  One  bold  stroke  of  William  Marshal 
decided  the  struggle.  A  joint  army  of  French  and  English  barons 
under  the  Count  of  Perche  and  Robert  Fitz- Walter  was  besieging 
Lincoln,  when  the  Earl,  rapidly  gathering  forces  from  the  royal  castles, 
marched  to  its  rehef.  Cooped  up  in  the  steep  narrow  streets,  and 
attacked  at  once  by  the  Earl  and  the  garrison,  the  barons  fled  in 
hopeless  rout;  the  Count  of  Perche  fell  on  the  field;  Robert  Fitz- 
Walter  was  taken  prisoner.  Lewis,  who  was  investing  Dover,  retreated 
to  London,  and  called  for  aid  from  France.  But  a  more  terrible 
defeat  crushed  his  remaining  hopes.  A  small  English  fleet,  which  had 
set  sail  from  Dover  under  Hubert  de  Burgh,  fell  boldly  on  the  rein- 
forcements which  were  crossing  under  the  escort  of  Eustace  the  Monk, 
a  well-known  freebooter  of  the  Channel.  The  fight  admirably  illus- 
trates the  naval  warfare  of  the  time.  From  the  decks  of  the  English 
vessels  bowmen  poured  their  arrows  into  the  crowded  transports,  others 
hurled  quicklime  into  their  enemies'  faces,  while  the  more  active 
vessels  crashed  with  their  armed  prows  into  the  sides  of  the  French 
ships.  The  skill  of  the  mariners  of  the  Cinque  Ports  decided  the  day 
against  the  larger  forces  of  their  opponents,  and  the  fleet  of  Eustace 
was  utterly  destroyed.  The  royal  army  at  once  closed  in  upon 
London,  but  resistance  was  really  at  an  end.  By  the  treaty  of 
Lambeth  Lewis  promised  to  withdraw  from  England  on  payment  of 
a  sum  which  he  claimed  as  debt ;  his  adherents  were  restored  to  their 
possessions,  the;  liberties  of  London  and  other  towns  confirmed,  and 
the  prisoners  on  either  side  set  at  liberty.    The  expulsion  of  the  stranger 


132 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


left  English  statesmen  free  to  take  up  again  the  work  of  reform  ;  and 
a  fresh  issue  of  the  Charter,  though  in  its  modified  form,  proclaimed 
clearly  the  temper  and  policy  of  the  Earl  Marshal. 


Section  IV.  -The  Universities. 

[Authorities. — For  the  Universities  we  have  the  collection  of  materials 
edited  by  Mr.  Anstey  under  the  name  of  "  Munimenta  Academica." 
I  have  borrowed  much  from  two  papers  of  my  own  in  "Macmillan's 
Magazine,"  on  "The  Early  History  of  Oxford."  For  Bacon,  see  his 
"Opera  Inedita,"  in  the  Rolls  Series,  with  Mr.  Brewer's  admirable  intro- 
duction, and  Dr.  Whewell's  estimate  of  him  in  his  "  History  of  the  Inductive 
Sciences."] 

From  the  turmoil  of  civil  politics  we  turn  to  the  more  silent  but 
hardly  less  important  revolution  from  which  we  may  date  our  national 
education.  It  is  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Third  that  the  English 
universities  begin  to  exercise  a  definite  influence  on  the  intellectual  life 
of  Englishmen.  Of  the  early  history  of  Cambridge  we  know  little  or 
nothing,  but  enough  remains  to  enable  us  to  trace  the  early  steps  by 
which  Oxford  attained  to  its  intellectual  eminence.  The  establishment 
of  the  great  schools  which  bore  the  name  of  Universities  was  every- 
where throughout  Europe  a  special  mark  of  the  new  impulse  that 
Christendom  had  gained  from  the  Crusades.  A  new  fervour  of  study 
sprang  up  in  the  West  from  its  contact  with  the  more  cultured  East 
Travellers  like  Adelard  of  Bath  brought  back  the  first  rudiments  of 
physical  and  mathematical  science  from  the  schools  of  Cordova  or 
Bagdad.  In  the  twelfth  century  a  classical  revival  restored  Caesar  and 
Vergil  to  the  list  of  monastic  studies,  and  left  its  stamp  on  the  pedantic 
style,  the  profuse  classical  quotations  of  writers  like  William  of  Malmes- 
bury  or  John  of  Salisbury.  The  scholastic  philosophy  sprang  up  in  the 
schools  of  Paris.  The  Roman  law  was  revived  by  the  imperialist 
doctors  of  Bologna.  The  long  mental  inactivity  of  feudal  Europe 
broke  up  like  ice  before  a  summer's  sun.  Wandering  teachers  such  as 
Lanfranc  or  Anselm  crossed  sea  and  land  to  spread  the  new  power  of 
knowledge.  The  same  spirit  of  restlessness,  of  inquiry,  of  impatience 
with  the  older  traditions  of  mankind,  either  local  or  intellectual,  that 
had  hurried  half  Christendom  to  the  tomb  of  its  Lord,  crowded  the 
roads  with  thousands  of  young  scholars  hurrying  to  the  chosen  seats 
where  teachers  were  gathered  together.  A  new  power  had  sprung  up 
in  the  midst  of  a  world  as  yet  under  the  rule  of  sheer  brute  force. 
Poor  as  they  were,  sometimes  even  of  servile  race,  the  wandering 
scholars  who  lectured  in  every  cloister  were  hailed  as  "  masters  "  by  the 
crowds  at  their  feet.     Abelard  was  a  foe  worthy  of  the  menaces  of 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


133 


councils,  of  the  thunders  of  the  Church.  The  teaching  of  a  single 
Lombard  was  of  note  enough  in  England  to  draw  down  the  prohibition 
of  a  King.  When  Vacarius,  probably  a  guest  in  the  court  of  Archbishop 
Theobald,  where  Beket  and  John  of  Salisbury  were  already  busy  with 
the  study  of  the  Civil  Law,  opened  lectures  on  it  at  Oxford,  he  was  at 
once  silenced  by  Stephen,  who  was  then  at  war  with  the  Church,  and 
jealous  of  the  pow^r  which  the  wreck  of  the  royal  authority  was  throwing 
into  Theobald's  hands. 

At  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  Vacarius  Oxford  stood  in  the  first  rank 
among  English  towns.  Its  town  church  of  S.  Martin  rose  from  the 
midst  of  a  huddled  group  of  houses,  girt  in  with  massive  walls,  that  lay 
along  the  dry  upper  ground  of  a  low  peninsula  between  the  streams  of 
Cherwell  and  the  upper  Thames.  The  ground  fell  gently  on  either 
side,  eastward  and  westward,  to  these  rivers,  while  on  the  south  a 
sharper  descent  led  down  across  swampy  meadows  to  the  city  bridge. 
Around  lay  a  wild  forest  country,  the  moors  of  Cnwley  and  Bullingdon 
fringing  the  course  of  Thames,  the  great  woods  of  Shotover  and 
Bagley  closing  the  horizon  to  the  south  and  east.  Though  the  two  huge 
towers  of  its  Norman  castle  marked  the  strategic  importance  of  Oxford 
as  commanding  the  river  valley  along  which  the  commerce  of  Southern 
England  mainly  flowed,  its  walls  formed,  perhaps,  the  least  element  in 
Its  military  strength,  for  on  every  side  but  the  north  the  town  was 
guarded  by  the  swampy  meadows  along  Cherwell,  or  by  the  intricate 
network  of  streams  into  which  the  Thames  breaks  among  the  meadows 
of  Osney.  From  the  midst  of  these  meadows  rose  a  mitred  abbey  of 
Austin  Canons,  which,  with  the  older  priory  of  S.  Frideswide,  gave  the 
town  some  ecclesiastical  dignity.  1  he  residence  of  the  Norman  house 
of  the  D'Oillis  within  its  castle,  the  frequent  visits  of  English  kings  to 
a  palace  without  its  walls,  the  presence  again  and  again  of  important 
councils,  marked  its  political  weight  within  the  realm.  The  settlement 
of  one  of  the  wealthiest  among  the  English  Jewries  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  town  indicated,  while  it  promoted,  the  activity  of  its  trade.  No 
place  better  illustrates  the  tran  formation  of  the  land  in  the  hands  of  its 
Norman  masters,  the  sudden  outburst  of  industrial  effort,  the  sudden 
expansion  of  commerce  and  accumulation  of  wealth  which  followed  the 
Conquest.  To  the  west  of  the  town  rose  one  of  the  stateliest  of  English 
castles,  and  in  the  meadows  beneath  the  hardly  less  stately  abbey  of 
Osney.  In  the  fields  to  the  north  the  last  of  the  Norman  kings  raised 
his  palace  of  Beaumont.  The  canons  of  S.  Frideswide  reared  the  church 
which  still  exists  as  the  diocesan  cathedral,  while  the  piety  of  the 
Norman  Castellans  rebuilt  almost  all  the  parish  churches  of  the  city, 
and  founded  within  their  new  castle  walls  the  church  of  the  Canons  of 
S.  George.  We  know  nothing  of  the  causes  which  drew  students  and 
teachers  within  the  walls  of  Oxford.  It  is  possible  that  here  as  else- 
where a  new  teacher  had  quickened  older  educational  foundations,  and 


'34 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ICIIAI- 


that  the  cloisters  of «  sney  and  S.  Krideswide  already  possessed  schools 
which  burst  into  a  larger  life  under  the  impul-)e  of  Vacarius.  As  yet, 
however,  the  fortunes  of  the  University  were  obscured  by  the  glories 
of  Paris.  English  scholars  gathered  in  thousands  round  the  chairs  of 
William  of  Champeaux  or  Abelard.  The  English  took  their  place  as 
one  of  the  "nations"  of  the  French  University.  John  of  Salisbury 
became  famous  as  one  of  the  Parisian  teachers.  Beket  wandered  to 
Paris  from  his  school  at  Merton.  But  through  the  peaceful  reign  of 
Henry  the  Second  Oxford  was  quietly  increasing  in  numbers  and 
repute.  Forty  years  after  the  visit  of  Vacarius  its  educational  position 
was  fully  established.  When  Gerald  of  Wales  read  his  amusing 
Topography  of  Ireland  to  its  students,  the  most  learned  and  famous 
of  the  English  clergy  were,  he  tells  us,  to  be  found  within  its  walls. 
At  the  opening  of  the  thirteent'i  century  Oxford  was  without  a  riv.d  in 
its  own  country,  while  in  European  celebrity  it  t  »ok  rank  with  the 
greatest  schools  of  the  Western  world.  But  to  realize  this  Oxford  of 
the  past  we  must  dismiss  from  our  minds  all  recollections  of  the  Oxford 
of  the  present.  In  the  outer  aspect  of  the  new  University  there  was 
nothing  of  the  pomp  that  overawes  the  freshman  as  he  first  paces  the 
"  High,"  or  looks  down  from  the  gallery  of  S.  Mary's.  In  the  stead  of 
long  fronts  of  venerable  colleges,  of  stately  walks  beneath  immemorial 
elms,  history  plunges  us  into  the  mean  and  filthy  lanes  of  a  mediaeval 
town.  Thousands  of  boys,  huddled  in  bare  lodging-houses,  clustering 
round  teachers  as  poor  as  themselves  in  church  porch  and  house  porch, 
drinking,  quarrelling,  dicing,  begging  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  take 
the  place  of  the  brightly-coloured  train  of  doctors  and  Heads.  Mayor 
and  Chancellor  struggled  in  vain  to  enforce  order  or  peace  on  this 
seething  mass  of  turbulent  life.  The  retainers  who  followed  their  young 
lords  to  the  University  fought  out  the  feuds  of  their  houses  in  the 
streets.  Scholars  from  Kent  and  scholars  from  Scotland  waged  the 
bitter  struggle  of  North  and.  South.  At  nightfall  roysterer  and  reveller 
roamed  with  torches  through  the  narrow  lanes,  defying  bailiffs,  and 
cutting  down  burghers  at  their  doors.  Now  a  mob  of  clerks  plunged 
into  the  Jewry,  and  wiped  off  the  memory  of  bills  and  bonds  by  sacking 
a  Hebrew  house  or  two.  Now  a  tavern  row  between  scholar  and 
townsman  widened  into  a  general  broil,  and  the  academical  bell 
of  S.  Mary's  vied  with  the  town  bell  of  S.  Martin's  in  clanging 
to  arms.  Every  phase  of  ecclesiastical  controversy  or  political 
strife  was  preluded  by  some  fierce  outbrea'c  in  this  turbulent, 
surging  mob.  When  England  growled  at  the  exactions  of  the  Papacy, 
the  students  besieged  a  legate  in  the  ablxn's  house  at  Osney  A 
murderous  town  and  gown  row  preceded  the  opening  of  the  Barons' 
War.  "When  Oxford  draws  knife,"  ran  the  old  rime,  "England's 
soon  at   strife." 

Hut  the  turbulence  and  stir  was  a  stir  and  turbulence  of  life.  A  keen 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


135 


thirst  for  knowledge,  a  passionate  poetry  of  devotion,  gathered  thou- 
sands round  the  poorest  schohir,  and  welcomed  the  barefoot  friar. 
Edmund  Rich — Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  saint  in  later  days — 
came  to  Oxford,  a  boy  of  twelve  years  old,  from  the  little  lane  at 
Abingdon  that  still  bears  his  name.  He  found  his  school  in  an  inn 
that  belonged  to  the  abbey  of  Eynsham,  where  his  father  had  taken 
refuge  from  the  world.  His  mother  was  a  pious  woman  of  the  day,  too 
poor  to  give  her  boy  much  outfit  besides  the  hair  shirt  that  he  promised 
to  wear  every  Wednesday  ;  but  Edmund  was  no  poorer  than  his  neigh- 
bours. He  plunged  at  once  into  the  nobler  life  of  the  place,  its  ardour 
for  knowledge,  its  mystical  piety.  "Secretly,"  perhaps  at  eventide 
when  the  shadows  were  gathering  in  the  church  of  S.  Mary's,  and  the 
crowd  of  teachers  and  students  had  left  its  aisles,  the  boy  s^ood  before 
an  image  of  the  Virgin,  and  placing  a  ring  of  gold  upon  its  finger  took 
Mary  for  his  bride.  Years  of  study,  broken  by  a  fever  that  raged  among 
the  crowded,  noisome  streets,  brought  the  time  for  completing  his 
education  at  Paris  ;  and  Edmund,  hand  in  hand  with  a  brother  Robert 
of  his,  begged  his  way,  as  poor  scholars  were  wont,  to  the  great  school  of 
Western  Christendom.  Here  a  damsel,  heedless  of  his  tonsure,  wooed 
him  so  pertinaciously  that  Edmund  consented  at  last  to  an  assignation  ; 
but  when  he  appeared  it  was  in  company  6f  grave  academical  officials, 
who,  as  the  maiden  declared  in  the  hour  of  penitence  which  followed, 
"straightway  whipped  the  offending  Eve  out  of  her."  Still  true  to 
his  Virgin  bridal,  Edmund,  on  his  return  from  Paris,  became  the  most 
popular  of  Oxford  teachers.  It  is  to  him  that  Oxford  owes  her  first 
introduction  to  the  Logic  of  Aristotle.  We  see  him  in  the  little  room 
which  he  hired,  with  the  Virgin's  chapel  hard  by,  his  grey  gown  reach- 
ing to  his  feet,  ascetic  in  his  devotion,  falling  asleep  in  lecture  time 
after  a  sleepless  night  of  prayer,  with  a  grace  and  cheerfulness  of 
manner  which  told  of  his  French  training,  and  a  chivalrous  love  of 
knowledge  that  let  his  pupils  pay  what  they  would.  '•  Ashes  to  ashes, 
dust  to  dust,"  the  young  tutor  would  say,  a  touch  of  scholarly  pride 
perhaps  mingling  with  his  contempt  of  worldly  things,  as  he  threw 
down  the  fee  on  the  dusty  window-ledge,  whence  a  thievish  student 
would  sometimes  run  off  with  it.  But  even  knowledge  brought  its 
troubles  ;  the  (  Id  Testament,  which  with  a  copy  of  the  Decretals  long 
formed  his  sole  library,  frowned  down  upon  a  love  of  secular  learning 
from  which  Edmund  found  it  hard  to  wean  himself  At  last,  in 
some  hour  of  dream,  the  form  of  his  deid  mother  floated  into  the 
room  where  the  teacher  stood  among  his  mathematical  diagrams. 
"  What  are  these  ?  "  she  seemed  to  say  ;  and  seizing  Edmund's  right 
hand,  she  drew  on  the  palm  three  circles  interlaced,  each  of  which 
bore  the  name  of  one  of  the  Persons  of  the  Christian  Trinity.  "  Be 
these,"  she  cried,  as  her  figure  faded  away,  "  thy  diagrams  henceforth, 
my  son." 


136 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


The  story  admirably  illustrates  the  real  character  of  the  new  train- 
ing, and  the  latent  opposition  between  the  spirit  of  the  Universities 
and  the  spirit  of  the  Church.  The  feudal  and  ecclesiastical  order  of 
the  old  mediasval  world  were  both  alike  threatened  by  the  power  that 
had  so  strangely  sprung  up  in  the  midst  of  them.  Feudalism  rested 
on  local  isolation,  on  the  severance  of  kingdom  fro  n  kingdom  and 
barony  from  barony,  on  the  distinction  of  blood  and  race,  on  the 
supremacy  of  material  or  brute  force,  on  an  allegiance  determined  by 
accidents  of  place  and  social  position.  The  University,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  protest  against  this  isolation  of  man  from  man.  The 
smallest  school  was  European  and  not  local.  Not  merely  every  pro- 
vince of  France,  but  every  people  of  Christendom,  had  its  place  among 
the  ''nations"  of  Paris  or  Padua.  A  common  language,  the  Latin 
tongue,  su|  erseded  within  academical  bounds  the  warring  tongues  of 
Europe.  A  common  intellectual  kinship  and  rivalry  took  the  place  of 
the  p'itty  strifes  which  parted  province  from  province  or  realm  from 
realm.  What  the  Church  and  Empire  had  both  aimed  at  and  both 
failed  in,  the  knitting  of  Christian  nations  together  into  a  vast  common- 
wealth, t' e  Universities  for  a  time  actually  did.  Dante  felt  himself  as 
little  a  stranger  in  the  "  Latin  "  quarter  around  Mont  Ste.  Genevieve  as 
under  the  arches  of  Bologna.  Wandering  Oxford  scholars  carried  the 
writings  of  Wyclif  to  the  libraries  of  Prague.  In  England  the  work  of 
provincial  fusion  was  less  difficult  or  important  than  elsewhere,  but 
even  in  England  work  had  to  be  done.  The  feuds  of  Northerner  and 
Southerner  which  so  long  disturbed  the  discipline  of  Oxford  witnessed 
at  any  rate  to  the  fact  that  Northerner  and  Southerner  had  at  last  been 
brought  face  to  face  in  its  streets.  And  here  as  elsewhere  the  spirit  of 
national  isolation  was  held  in  check  by  the  larger  comprehensiveness 
of  the  University.  After  the  dissensions  that  threatened  the  prosperity 
of  Paris  in  the  thirteenth  century,  Norman  ana  Gascon  mingled  with 
Englishmen  in  Oxford  lecture-halls.  At  a  later  time  the  rebellion  of 
Owen  Glyndwr  found  hundreds  of  Welsh  nen  gathered  round  its 
teachers.  And  within  this  strangely  mingled  mass,  society  and 
government  restel  on  a  purely  democratic  basis.  Among  Oxford 
scholars  the  son  of  the  noble  stood  on  precisely  the  same  footing  with 
the  poorest  mendicant.  Wealth,  physical  strengt'^,  skill  in  arms, 
pride  of  ancestry  and  blood,  the  very  grounds  on  which  feudal  society 
rested,  went  for  nothing  in  th^i  lecture-room.  The  University  was 
a  state  absolutely  self-governed,  and  whose  citizens  were  admitted  by 
a  purely  intellectual  franchise.  Knowled.^e  made  the  "  master."  To 
know  more  than  one's  fellows  was  a  man's  sole  claim  to  be  a  "ruler" 
in  the  schools  :  and  within  this  intellectual  arfstocracy  all  were  equal. 
When  the  free  commonwealth  of  the  masters  gathered  in  the  aisles  of 
S.  Mary's  all  had  an  equal  right  to  counsel,  all  had  an  equal  vote  in 
the  final  decision.     Treasury  and  library  were  at  their  complete  dis- 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


137 


posal.  It  was  their  voice  that  named  every  officer,  that  proposed 
and  sanctioned  every  statute.  Even  the  Chancellor,  their  head,  who 
had  at  first  been  an  officer  of  the  Bishop,  became  an  elected  officer  of 
their  own. 

If  the  democratic  spirit  of  the  Universities  threatened  feudalism, 
their  spirit  of  intellectual  inquiry  threatened  the  Church.  To  all  outer 
seeming  they  were  purely  ecclesiastical  bodies.  The  wide  extension 
which  mediaeval  usage  gave  to  the  word  "  orders  "  gathered  the  whole 
educated  world  within  the  pale  of  the  clergy.  Whatever  might  be 
their  age  or  proficiency,  scholar  and  teacher  were  alike  clerks,  free 
from  lay  responsibilities  or  the  control  of  civil  tribunals,  and  amenable 
only  to  the  rule  of  the  Bishop  and  the  sentence  of  his  spiritual  courts. 
This  ecclesiastical  character  of  the  University  appeared  in  that  of  its 
head.  The  Chancellor,  as  we  have  seen,  was  at  first  no  officer  of  the 
University,  but  of  the  ecclesiastical  body  under  whose  shadow  it  had 
sprung  into  life.  At  (  xford  he  was  simply  the  local  officer  of  the 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  within  whose  immense  diocese  the  University  was 
then  situate!.  But  this  identification  in  outer  form  with  the  Church 
only  rendered  more  conspicuous  the  difference  of  its  spirit.  The 
sudden  expansion  of  the  field  of  education  diminished  the  importance 
of  those  purely  ecclesiastical  and  theological  studies  which  had 
hitherto  absorbed  the  whole  intellectual  energies  of  mankind.  The 
revival  of  classical  literature,  the  rediscovery  as  it  were  of  an  older 
and  a  greater  world,  the  contact  with  a  larger,  freer  life,  whether  in 
mind,  in  society,  or  in  politics,  introduced  a  spirit  of  scepticism,  of 
doubt,  of  denial  into  the  realms  of  unquestioning  belief.  Abelard 
claimed  for  reason  the  supremacy  over  faith.  Florentine  poets  dis- 
cussed with  a  smile  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Even  to  Dante,  while 
he  censures  these,  Vergil  is  as  sacred  as  Jeremiah.  The  imperial  ruler 
in  whom  the  new  culture  took  its  most  notable  form,  Frederic  the 
Second,  the  "  World's  Wonder "  of  his  time,  was  regarded  by  half 
Europe  as  no  better  than  an  infidel.  A  faint  revival  of  physical  science, 
so  long  crushed  as  magic  by  the  dominant  ecclesiasticism,  brought 
Christians  into  perilous  contact  with  the  Moslem  and  the  Jew.  The 
books  of  the  Rabbis  were  no  longer  a  mere  accursed  thing  to  Roger 
Bacon.  The  scholars  of  Cordova  were  no  mere  Paynim  swine  to 
Abelard  of  Bath.  How  slowly  indeed  and  against  what  obstacles 
science  won  its  way  we  know  from  the  witness  of  Roger  Bacon. 
"  Slowly,"  he  tells  us,  "  has  any  portion  of  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle 
come  into  use  among  the  Latins.  His  Natural  Philosophy  and  his 
Metaphysics,  with  the  Commentaries  of  Averroes  and  others,  were 
translated  in  my  time,  and  interdicted  at  Paris  up  to  the  year  of  grace 
1237  because  of  their  assertion  of  the  eternity  of  the  world  and  of 
time,  and  because  of  the  book  of  the  divinations  by  dreams  (which  is 
the  third  book,  De  Somniis  et  Vigiliis),  and  because  of  many  passages 

F* 


138 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


erroneously  translated.  Even  his  Logic  was  slowly  received  and 
lectured  on.  For  St.  Edmund,  the  .Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was 
the  first  in  my  time  who  read  t'le  Elements  at  Oxford.  And  I  have 
seen  Master  Hugo,  who  first  read  the  book  of  Posterior  Analytics,  and 
I  have  seen  his  writing.  So  there  were  but  few,  considering  the 
multitude  of  the  Latins,  who  were  of  any  account  in  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle  ;  nay,  very  few  indeed,  and  scarcely  any  up  to  this  year  of 
grace  1292." 

We  shall  see  in  a  later  page  how  fiercely  the  Church  fought  against 
this  tide  of  opposition,  and  how  it  won  back  the  allegiance  of  the 
Universities  through  the  begging  Fri  irs.  But  it  was  in  the  ranks  of 
the  Friars  themselves  that  the  intell  ctual  progress  of  the  Universities 
found  its  highest  representative.  The  life  of  Roger  Bacon  alnioit 
covers  the  thirteenth  century;  he  was  the  child  of  royalist  i;arents, 
who  had  been  driven  into  exile  and  reduced  to  poverty  by  the  civil 
wars.  From  Oxford,  where  he  studied  under  Edmund  of  Abingdon, 
to  whom  he  owed  his  introduction  to  the  works  of  Aristotle,  he  passed 
to  the  University  of  Paris,  where  his  whole  heritage  was  spent  in 
costly  studies  and  experiments.  "  From  my  youth  up,"  he  writes,  "  I 
have  laboured  at  the  sciences  and  tongues.  I  have  sought  the  friend- 
ship of  all  men  among  the  Latins  who  had  any  reputation  for  know- 
ledge. I  have  caused  youths  to  be  instructed  in  languages,  geometry, 
arithmetic,  the  construction  of  tables  and  instruments,  and  many 
needful  things  besides."  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such  studies 
as  he  had  resolved  to  pursue  were  immense.  He  was  without  instru- 
ments or  means  of  experiment.  "  Without  mathematical  instruments 
no"  science  can  be  mastered,"  he  complains  afterwards,  "and  th:se 
instruments  are  not  to  be  found  among  the  Latins,  nor  could  they  be 
made  for  two  or  three  hundred  pounds.  Besides,  better  tables  are 
indispensably  necessary,  tables  on  which  the  motions  of  the  he  ivens 
are  certified  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  world  without  daily 
labour,  but  these  tables  are  worth  a  king's  ransom,  and  could  not  be 
made  without  a  vast  expense.  1  have  often  atteinpted  the  composi- 
tion of  such  tables,  but  could  not  finish  them  through  failure  of  means 
and  the  folly  of  those  whom  I  had  to  employ."  Books  were  difficult 
and  sometiiTies  even  impossible  to  procure.  "  The  philosophical 
works  of  Aristotle,  of  Avicenna,  of  Seneca,  of  Cicero,  and  other  ancients 
cannot  be  had  without  great  cost  ;  their  principal  works  have  not  been 
translated  into  Latin,  and  copies  of  others  are  not  to  be  found  in 
ordinary  libraries  or  elsewhere.  The  admirable  books  of  Cicero  de 
Rcpublica  are  not  to  be  found  anywhere,  so  far  as  I  can  hear,  though  I 
have  made  anxious  inquiry  for  them  in  different  parts  of  the  world, 
and  by  various  messengers.  I  could  never  find  the  works  of  Seneca, 
though  1  made  diligent  search  for  them  during  twenty  years  and  more. 
And  so  it  is  with  many  more  most  useful  books  connected  with  the 


[II.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


139 


science  of  morals."  It  is  only  words  like  these  of  his  own  that  bring 
home  to  us  the  keen  thirst  for  knowledge,  the  patience,  the  energy  of 
Roger  Bacon,  He  returned  as  a  teacher  to  Oxford,  and  a  touching 
record  of  his  devotion  to  those  whom  he  taught  remains  in  the  story  of 
John  of  London,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  whose  ability  raised  him  above  the 
general  level  of  his  pupils.  "  When  he  came  to  me  as  a  poor  boy," 
says  Bacon,  in  recommending  him  to  the  Pope,  "  I  caused  him  to  be 
nurtured  and  instructed  for  the  love  of  God,  especially  since  for 
aptitude  and  innocence  I  have  never  found  so  towardly  a  youth.  Five 
or  six  years  ago  I  caused  him  to  be  taught  in  languages,  mathematics, 
and  optics,  and  I  have  gratuitously  instructed  him  with  my  own  lips 
since  the  time  that  I  received  your  mandate.  There  is  no  one  at  Paris 
who  knows  so  much  of  the  root  of  philosophy,  though  he  has  not 
produced  the  branches,  flowers,  and  fruit  because  of  his  youth,  and 
because  he  has  had  no  experience  in  teaching.  But  he  has  the  means 
of  surpassing  all  the  Latins  if  he  live  to  grow  old  and  goes  on  as  he 
has  begun." 

The  pride  with  which  he  refers  to  his  system  of  instruction  was 
justified  by  the  tvide  extension  which  he  gave  to  scientific  teaching  in 
Oxford.  It  is  probably  of  himself  that  he  speaks  when  he  tells  us 
that  "  the  science  of  optics  has  not  hitherto  been  lectured  on  at  Paris 
or  elsewhere  among  the  Latins,  save  twice  at  Oxford."  It  was  a 
science  on  which  he  had  laboured  for  ten  years.  But  his  teaching 
seems  to  have  fallen  on  a  barren  soil.  From  the  moment  when  the 
friars  settled  in  the  Universities  scholasticism  absorbed  the  whole 
mental  energy  of  the  student  world.  The  temper  of  the  age  was 
against  scientific  or  philosophical  studies.  The  older  enthusiasm  for 
knowledge  was  dying  down  ;  the  study  of  law  was  the  one  source  of 
promotion,  whether  in  Church  or  state  ;  philosophy  was  discredited, 
literature  in  its  purer  forms  became  almost  extinct.  After  forty  years 
of  incessant  study.  Bacon  found  himself  in  his  own  words  "  unheard, 
forgotten,  buried."  He  seems  at  one  time  to  have  been  wealthy,  but 
his  wealth  was  gone.  "  During  the  twenty  years  that  I  have  specially 
laboured  in  the  attainment  of  wisdom,  abandoning  the  path  of  common 
men,  I  have  spent  on  these  pursuits  more  than  two  thousand  pounds, 
on  account  of  the  cost  of  books,  experiments,  instruments,  tables,  the 
acquisition  of  languages,  and  the  like.  Add  to  all  this  the  sacrifices  I 
have  made  to  procure  the  friendship  of  the  wise,  and  to  obtain  well- 
instructed  assistants."  Ruined  an  1  baffled  in  his  hopes,  Bacon  listened 
to  the  counsels  of  his  friend  Grosseteste  and  renounced  the  world.  He 
became  a  friar  of  the  order  of  S.  Francis,  an  order  where  books  and 
study  were  looked  upon  as  hindrances  to  the  work  which  it  had 
specially  undertaken,  that  of  preaching  among  the  masses  of  the  poor. 
He  had  written  hardly  anything.  So  far  was  he  from  attempting  to 
write,  that  his  new  superiors  had  prohibited  him  from  publishing  any- 


f40 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  IV. 

The 
Univer- 
sities 


The  OpuB 
MaJuB 


thing  under  pain  of  forfeiture  of  the  book  and  penance  of  bread  and 
water.  But  we  can  see  the  craving  of  his  mind,  the  passionate  instinct 
of  creation  which  marks  the  man  of  genius,  in  the  joy  with  which  he 
seized  the  strange  opportimity  which  suddenly  opened  before  him. 
"  Some  few  chapters  on  different  subjects,  written  at  the  entreaty  of 
friends,"  seem  to  have  got  abroad,  and  were  brought  by  one  of  his 
chaplains  under  the  notice  of  Clement  the  Fourth.  The  Pope  at  once 
invited  him  to  write.  Again  difficulties  stood  in  his  way.  Materials, 
transcription,  and  other  expenses  for  such  a  work  as  he  projected 
would  cost  at  least  £60,  and  the  Pope  had  not  sent  a  penny.  He 
begged  help  from  his  family,  but  they  were  ruined  like  himself.  No 
one  would  lend  to  a  mendicant  friar,  and  when  his  friends  raised  the 
money  it  was  by  pawning  their  goods  in  the  hope  of  repayment  from 
Clement.  Nor  was  this  all ;  the  work  itself,  abstruse  and  scientific  as 
was  its  subject,  had  to  be  treated  in  a  clear  and  popular  form  to  gain 
the  Papal  ear.  But  difficulties  which  would  have  crushed  another 
man  only  roused  Roger  Bacon  to  an  almost  superhuman  energy.  In 
little  more  than  a  year  the  work  was  done.  The  "  greater  work,"  itself 
in  modern  form  a  closely  printed  folio,  with  its  successive  summaries 
and  appendices  in  the  "  lesser  "  and  the  "  third  "  works  (which  make  a 
good  octavo  more)  were  produced  and  forwarded  to  the  Pope  within 
fifteen  months. 

No  trace  of  this  fiery  haste  remains  in  the  book  itself.  The  **  Opus 
Majus  "  is  alike  wonderful  in  plan  and  detail.  Bacon's  main  plan,  in 
the  words  of  Dr.  Whewell,  is"  to  urge  the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  the 
mode  of  philosophizing,  to  set  forth  the  reasons  why  knowledge  had 
not  made  a  greater  progress,  to  draw  back  attention  to  sources  of 
knowledge  which  had  been  unwisely  neglected,  to  discover  other 
sources  which  were  yet  wholly  unknown,  and  to  animate  men  to  the 
undertaking  by  a  prospect  of  the  vast  advantages  which  it  offered." 
The  developement  of  his  scheme  is  on  the  largest  scale  ;  he  gathers 
together  the  whole  knowledge  of  his  time  on  every  branch  of  science 
which  it  possessed,  and  as  he  passes  them  in  review  he  suggests  im- 
provements in  nearly  all.  His  labours,  both  here  and  in  his  after 
works,  in  the  field  of  grammar  and  philology,  his  perseverance  in 
insisting  on  the  necessity  of  correct  texts,  of  an  accurate  knowledge 
of  languages,  of  an  exact  interpretation,  are  hardly  less  remarkable  than 
his  scientific  investigations.  But  from  grammar  he  passes  to  mathe- 
matics, from  mathematics  to  experimental  philosophy.  Under  the 
name  of  mathematics  was  included  all  the  physical  science  of  the  time. 
"  The  neglect  of  it  for  nearly  thirty  or  forty  years,"  pleads  Bacon  passion- 
ately, "  hath  nearly  destroyed  the  entire  studies  of  Latin  Christendom. 
For  he  who  knows  not  mathematics  cannot  know  any  other  sciences  ; 
and  what  is  more,  he  cannot  discover  his  own  ignorance  or  find  its 
proper  remedies."      Geography,  chronology,  arithmetic,  music,  art 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


141 


brought  into  something  of  scientific  form,  and  the  same  rapid  examina- 
tion is  devoted  to  the  question  of  cHmate,  to  hydrography,  geography, 
and  astrology.  The  subject  of  optics,  his  own  especial  study,  is  treated 
with  greater  fulness  ;  he  enters  into  the  question  of  the  anatomy  of  the 
eye,  besides  discussing  the  problems  which  lie  more  strictly  within  the 
province  of  optical  science.  In  a  word,  the  "  Greater  Work,"  to  borrow 
the  phrase  of  Dr.  Whewell,  is  "  at  once  the  Encyclopaedia  and  the 
Novum  Organum  of  the  thirteenth  century."  The  whole  of  the  after 
works  of  Roger  Bacon — and  treatise  after  treatise  has  of  late  been 
disentombed  from  our  libraries— are  but  developements  in  detail  of  the 
magnificent  conception  he  had  laid  before  Clement.  Such  a  work  was 
its  own  great  reward.  From  the  world  around  Roger  Bacon  could 
look  for  and  found  small  recognition.  No  word  of  acknowledgement 
seems  to  have  reached  its  author  from  the  Pope.  If  we  may  credit  a 
more  recent  story,  his  writings  only  gained  him  a  prison  from  his 
order.  "  Unheard,  forgotten,  buried,"  the  old  man  died  as  he  had 
lived,  and  it  has  been  reserved  for  later  ages  to  roil  away  the  obscurity 
that  had  gathered  round  his  memory,  and  to  place  first  in  the  great 
roll  of  modern  science  the  name  of  Roger  Bacon. 


Section  V.— Henry  the  Third,  1216-1257. 

lAuthoi'itiis. — The  two  great  authorities  for  this  period  are  the  historio- 
graphers of  St.  Albans,  Roger  of  Wendover,  whose  work  ends  in  1235,  and 
his  editor  and  continuator  Matthew  Paris.  The  first  is  full  but  inaccurate,  and 
with  strong  royal  and  ecclesiastical  sympathies  :  of  the  character  of  Matthew, 
I  have  spoken  at  the  close  of  the  present  section.  The  Chronicles  of  Dunstable, 
Waverley,  and  Burton  (published  in  Mr.  Luard's  "  Annales  Monastici ")  supply 
many  details.  The  "  Royal  Letters,"  edited  by  Dr.  Shirley,  with  an  admirable 
preface,  are,  like  the  Patent  and  Close  Rolls,  of  the  highest  value.  For 
opposition  to  Rome,  see  *' Grosseteste's  Letters,"  edited  by  Mr.  Luard.] 

The  death  of  the  Earl  Marshal  in  1219  left  t'^e  direction  of  affairs  in 
the  hands  of  a  new  legate,  Pandulf,  of  Stephen  Langton  who  had  just 
returned  forgiven  from  Rome,  and  of  the  Justiciar,  Hubert  de  Burgh. 
It  was  an  age  of  transition,  and  the  temper  of  the  Justiciar  was  eminently 
transitional.     Bred  in  the  school  of  Henry  the  Second,  he  had  little 
sympathy  with  national  freedom  ;  his  conception  of  good  government, 
like  thi.t  of  his  master,  lay  in  a  wise  personal  administration,  in  the  i 
preservation  of  order  and  law.     But  he  combined  with  this  a  thoroughly  j 
English  desire  for  national  independence,  a  hatred  of  foreigners,  and  a  j 
reluctance  to  waste  Enghsh  blood  and  treasure  in  Continental  struggles,  j 
Able  as  he  proved  himself,  his  task  was  one  of  no  common  difficulty. 
He  was  hampered  by  the  constant  interference  of  Rome.     A  Papal 
legate  resided  at  the  English  court,  and  claimed  a  share  in  the  admin-  I 


Sec.   V. 

Henry  thi 
Third 

1216 

TO 

1257 


Hubert 
de  Bur^ln 


143 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


istration  of  the  realm  as  the  representative  of  its  over-lord,  ami  as 
guardian  of  the  young  sovereign.  A  foreign  party,  too,  had  still  a  foot- 
ing in  the  kingdom,  for  William  Marshal  had  been  unable  to  rid  him- 
self of  men  like  Peter  des  Roches  or  Faukes  de  Breautd,  who 
had  fought  on  the  royal  side  in  the  struggle  against  Lewis.  Hubert 
had  to  deal  too  with  the  anarchy  which  that  struggle  left  behind 
it.  From  the  time  of  the  Conquest  the  centre  of  England  had  been 
covjrcd  with  the  domains  of  great  nobles,  whose  longings  were  foi 
feudal  independence,  and  whose  spirit  of  revolt  had  been  held  in  check, 
partly  by  the  stern  rule  of  the  Kings,  and  partly  by  their  creation  of  a 
baronage  sprung  from  the  Court  and  settled  for  the  most  part  in  the 
North.  The  oppression  of  John  united  both  the  older  and  these  newer 
houses  in  the  struggle  for  the  Charter.  But  the  character  of  each 
remained  unchanged,  and  the  close  of  the  struggle  saw  the  feudal  party 
break  out  in  their  old  lawlessness  and  defiance  cf  the  Crown.  For  a 
time  the  anarchy  of  Stephen's  days  seemed  revived.  But  the  Justiciar 
was  resolute  to  crush  it,  and  he  was  backed  by  the  strenuous  efforts  of 
Stephen  Langton.  The  Earl  of  Chester,  the  head  c»f  the  feudal 
baronage,  though  he  rose  in  armed  rebellion,  quailed  before  the  march 
of  Hubert  and  the  Primate's  threats  of  excommunication.  A  more 
formidable  foe  remained  in  the  Frenchman,  Faukes  de  Breaute,  the 
sheriffof  six  count  es,  with  six  royal  castles  in  his  hands,  and  allied 
both  with  the  rebel  barons  and  Llewelyn  of  Wales.  His  castle  of 
Bedford  was  besieged  for  two  months  before  its  surrender,  and  the 
stern  justice  of  Hubert  hanged  the  twenty-four  knights  and  their  retainers 
who  formed  the  garrison  before  its  walls.  The  blow  was  effectual ; 
the  royal  castles  were  surrendered  by  the  barons,  and  the  land  was 
once  more  at  peace.  Freed  from  foreign  soldiery,  the  country  was 
freed  also  from  the  presence  of  the  foreign  legate.  Langton  wrested  a 
promise  from  Rome  that  so  long  as  he  lived  no  future  legate  should  be 
sent  to  England,  and  with  P.mdulfs  resignation  in  1221  the  direct 
interference  of  the  Papacy  in  the  government  of  the  realm  came  to  an 
end.  But  even  these  services  of  the  Primate  were  small  compared 
with  his  services  to  English  freedom.  Throughout  his  life  the  Charter 
was  the  first  object  of  his  care.  The  omission  of  the  articles  which 
restricted  the  royal  power  over  taxation  in  the  Charter  which  was  pub- 
lished at  Henry's  accession  was  doubtless  due  to  the  Archbishop's 
absence  and  disgrace  at  Rome.  The  suppression  of  disorder  seems  to 
have  revived  the  older  spirit  of  resistance  among  the  royal  ministers  ; 
when  Langton  demanded  a  fresh  confirmation  of  the  Charter  in  Parlia- 
ment at  London,  William  Brewer,  one  of  the  King's  councillors,  pro- 
tested that  it  had  been  extorted  by  force,  and  was  without  legal  validity 
"  If  you  loved  the  King,  William,"  the  Primate  burst  out  in  anger,  "you 
would  not  throw  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  the  peace  of  th*f 
realm."     The  King  was  cowed  by  the  Archbishop's  wrath,  and  at  once 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


143 


promised  observance  of  the  Charter.  Two  years  after,  its  solemn  pro- 
mulgation was  demanded  by  the  Archbishop  and  the  barons  as  the 
price  of  a  subsidy,  and  Henry's  assent  established  the  principle,  so 
fruitful  of  constitutional  results,  that  redress  of  wrongs  precedes  a  grant 
to  the  Crown. 

The  death  of  Stephen  Langton  in  1228  proved  a  heavy  blow  to 
English  freedom.  In  1227  Henry  had  declared  himself  of  age  ;  and 
though  Hubert  still  remained  Justiciar,  every  year  saw  him  more 
powerless  in  his  struggle  with  Rome  and  with  the  tendencies  of  the 
King.  In  the  mediaeval  theory  of  the  Papacy,  the  constitution  of 
Christendom  as  a  spiritual  realm  took  the  feudal  form  of  the  secular 
kingdoms  within  its  pale,  with  the  Pope  for  sovereign,  bishops  for  his 
barons,  the  clergy  for  his  under  vassals.  As  the  King  demanded  aids 
and  subsidies  in  case  of  need  from  his  liegemen,  so  it  was  believed 
might  the  head  of  the  Church  from  the  priesthood.  At  this  moment 
ihe  Papacy,  exhausted  by  its  long  struggle  with  Frederick  the  Second, 
grew  more  and  more  extortionate  in  its  demands.  It  regarded 
England  as  a  vassal  kingdom,  and  as  bound  to  aid  its  overlord.  The 
baronage,  however,  rejected  the  demand  of  aid  from  the  laity,  and  the 
Pope  fell  back  on  the  clergy.  He  demanded  a  tithe  of  all  the  move- 
ables ofthe  priesthood,  and  a  threat  of  excommunication  silenced  their 
murmurs.  Exaction  followed  exaction,  the  very  rights  of  the  lay 
patrons  were  set  aside,  and  under  the  name  of  "  reserves  "  presenta- 
tions to  English  benefices  were  sold  in  the  Papal  market,  while  Italian 
clergy  were  quartered  on  the  best  livings  of  t'  e  Church.  The  general 
indignation  found  vent  at  last  in  a  wide  conspiracy  ;  letters  from  "the 
whole  body  of  those  who  prefer  to  die  rather  than  be  ruined  by  the 
Romans"  were  scattered  over  the  kingdom  by  armed  men;  tithes 
gathered  for  the  Pope  and  foreign  clergy  were  seized  and  given  to  the 
poor,  the  Papal  commissioners  beaten,  and  their  bulls  trodden  under 
foot.  The  remonstrances  of  Rome  only  revealed  the  national  character 
of  the  movement ;  but  as  inquiry  proceeded  the  hand  ofthe  Justiciar 
himself  was  seen  to  have  been  at  work.  Sheriffs  had  stood  idly  by 
while  the  violence  was  done  ;  royal  letters  had  been  shown  by  the 
rioters  as  approving  their  acts  ;  and  the  Pope  openly  laid  the  charge  of 
the  outbreak  on  the  secret  connivance  of  Hubert  de  Burgh.  The  charge 
came  at  a  time  when  Henry  was  in  full  collision  with  his  minister,  to 
whom  he  attributed  the  failure  of  his  attempts  to  regain  the  foreign 
dominions  of  his  house.  An  invitation  from  the  barons  of  Normandy 
had  been  rejected  through  Hubert's  remonstrances,  and  when  a  great 
armament  gathered  at  Portsmouth  for  a  campaign  in  Poitou,  it  was 
dispersed  for  want  of  transport  and  supplies.  The  young  King  drew 
his  sword  and  rushed  madly  on  the  Justiciar,  whom  he  charged  with 
treason  and  corruption  by  thegold  of  France  ;  but  the  quarrel  was 
appeased,  and  the  expedition  deferred  for  the  year.     The  failure  of  the 


144 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


campaign  in  the  following  year,  when  Henry  took  the  field  in  Britanny 
and  Poitou,  was  again  laid  at  the  door  of  Hubert,  whose  opposition 
was  said  to  have  prevented  an  engagement.  The  Papal  accusation 
filled  up  the  measure  of  Henry's  wrath.  Hubert  was  dragged  from  a 
chapel  at  Brentwood  where  he  had  taken  refuge,  and  a  smith  was 
ordered  to  shackle  him.  "  I  will  die  any  death,"  replied  the  smith, 
"before  I  put  iron  on  the  man  who  freed  England  from  the  stranger 
and  saved  Dover  from  France."  On  the  remonstrances  of  the  Bishop 
of  London  Hubert  was  replaced  in  sanctuary,  but  hunger  compelled 
him  to  surrender  ;  he  was  thrown  a  prisoner  into  the  Tower,  and 
though  soon  released  he  remained  powerless  in  the  realm.  His  fall 
left  England  without  a  check  to  the  rule  of  Henry  himself. 

There  was  a  certain  refinement  in  Henry's  temper  which  won  him 
affection  even  in  the  worst  days  of  his  rule.  The  Abbey-church  of 
Westminster,  with  which  he  replaced  the  ruder  minster  of  the  Con- 
fessor, remains  a  monument  of  his  artistic  taste.  He  was  a  patron 
and  friend  of  artists  and  men  of  letters,  and  himself  skilled  in  the 
"  gay  science "  of  the  troubadour.  From  the  cruelty,  the  lust,  the 
impiety  of  his  father  he  was  absolutely  free.  But  of  the  political 
capacity  which  had  been  the  characteristic  of  his  house  he  had  little 
or  none.  Profuse,  changeable,  impulsive  alike  in  good  and  ill,  un- 
bridled in  temper  and  tongue,  reckless  in  nsult  and  wit,  Henry's 
delight  was  in  the  display  of  an  empty  and  prodigal  magnificence,  his 
one  notion  of  government  a  dream  of  arbitrary  power.  But  frivolous 
as  the  King's  mood  was,  he  clung  with  a  weak  man's  obstinacy  to  a 
distinct  line  of  policy.  He  cherished  the  hope  of  recovering  his 
heritage  across  the  sea.  He  believed  in  the  absolute  power  of  the 
Crown  ;  and  looked  on  the  pledges  of  the  Great  Charter  as  promises 
which  force  had  wrested  from  the  King  and  which  force  could  wrest 
back  again.  The  claim  which  the  French  kings  were  advancing  to  a 
divine  and  absolute  power  gave  a  sanction  in  Henry's  mind  to  the 
claim  of  absolute  authority  which  was  still  maintained  by  his  favourite 
advisers  in  the  royal  council.  The  death  of  Langton,  the  fall  of  Hubert 
de  Burgh,  left  him  free  to  surround  himself  with  dependent  ministers, 
mere  agents  of  the  royal  will.  Hosts  of  hungry  Poitevins  and  Bretons 
were  at  once  summoned  over  to  occupy  the  royal  castles  and  fill  the 
judicial  and  administrative  posts  about  the  Court.  His  marriage  with 
Eleanor  of  Provence  was  followed  by  the  arrival  in  England  of  the 
Queen's  uncles.  The  "  Savoy,"  as  his  house  in  the  Strand  was  named, 
still  recalls  Peter  of  Savoy,  who  arrived  five  years  later  to  take  for  a 
while  the  chief  place  at  Henry's  council-board  ;  another  brother,  Boni- 
face, was  on  Archbishop  Edmund's  death  consecrated  to  the  highest 
post  in  the  real;n  save  the  Crown  itself,  the  Archbishoprick  of  Canter- 
bury. The  young  I'rimate,  like  his  brother,  brought  with  him  foreign 
fashions  strange  enough  to  English  folk.    His  armed  retainers  pillaged 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER 


145 


the  markets.  His  own  archiepiscopal  fist  felled  to  the  ground  the  prior 
of  St.  Bartholomew- by- Smithfield,  who  opposed  his  visitation.  London 
was  roused  by  the  outrage  ;  on  the  King's  refusal  to  do  justice  a  noisy 
crowd  of  citizens  surrounded  the  Primate's  house  at  Lambeth  with 
cries  of  vengeance,  and  the  "handsome  archbishop,"  as  his  followers 
styled  him,  was  glad  to  escape  over  sea.  This  brood  of  Provencals 
was  followed  in  1243  by  the  arrival  of  the  Poitevin  relatives  of  John's 
queen,  Isabella  of  Angouleme.  Aymer  was  made  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester ;  William  of  Valence  received  the  earldom  of  Pembroke.  Even 
the  King's  jester  was  a  Poitevin.  Hundreds  of  their  dependants  fol- 
lowed these  great  lords  to  find  a  fortune  in  the  English  realm.  The 
Poitevin  lords  brought  in  their  train  a  bevy  of  ladies  in  search  of 
husbands,  and  three  English  earls  who  were  in  royal  wardship  were 
v/edded  by  the  King  to  foreigners.  The  whole  machinery  of  adminis- 
tration passed  into  the  hands  of  men  ignorant  and  contemptuous  of 
the  principles  of  English  government  or  English  law.  Their  rule  was 
a  mere  anarchy  ;  the  very  retainers  of  the  royal  household  turned 
robbers,  and  pillaged  foreign  merchants  in  the  precincts  of  the  Court  ; 
corruption  invaded  the  judicature  ;  Henry  de  Bath,  a  justiciar,  was 
proved  to  have  openly  taken  bribes  and  to  have  adjudged  to  himself 
disputed  estates. 

That  misgovernment  of  this  kind  should  have  gone  on  unchecked, 
in  defiance  of  the  provisions  of  the  Charter,  was  owing  to  the  disunion 
and  sluggishness  of  the  English  baronage.  On  the  first  arrival  of  the 
foreigners,  Richard,  the  Earl  Marshal,  a  son  of  the  great  Regent,  stood 
forth  as  their  leader  to  demand  the  expulsion  of  the  strangers  from  the 
royal  Council,  and  though  deserted  by  the  bulk  of  the  nobles,  he 
defeated  the  foreign  forces  sent  against  him,  and  forced  the  King  to 
treat  for  peace.  But  at  this  moment  the  Earl  was  drawn  by  an  intrigue 
of  Peter  des  Roches  to  Ireland  ;  he  fell  in  a  petty  skirmish,  and  the 
barons  were  left  without  a  head.  Edmund  Rich,  whom  we  have  seen 
as  an  Oxford  teacher  and  who  had  risen  to  the  Archbishoprick  of  Can- 
terbury, forced  the  King  to  dismiss  Peter  from  court  ;  but  there  was 
no  real  change  of  system,  and  the  remonstrances  of  the  Archbishop 
and  of  Robert  Grosseteste,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  remained  fruitless.  In 
the  long  interval  of  misrule  which  followed,  the  financial  straits  of  the 
King  forced  him  to  heap  exaction  on  exaction.  The  Forest  Laws  were 
used  as  a  means  of  extortion,  sees  and  abbeys  were  kept  vacant,  loans 
were  wrested  from  lords  and  prelates,  the  Court  itself  lived  at  free 
quarters  wherever  it  moved.  Supplies  of  this  kind  however  were 
utterly  insufficient  to  defray  the  cost  of  the  King's  prodigality.  A 
sixth  of  the  royal  revenue  was  wasted  in  pensions  to  foreign  favourites. 
The  debts  of  the  Crown  mounted  to  four  times  its  annual  income.  H  enry 
was  forced  to  appeal  to  the  Great  Council  of  the  realm,  and  aid  was 
granted   on   condition   that   the   King   confirmed  the   Charter.     The 


[237 


146 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CllAP. 


Sec.   V. 

Hf.nrv  the 
Third 

1216 

TO 

1257 

1242 


[246 


Mattheiv 
Paris 

12'X>-I259 


Charter  was  confirmed  and  steadily  disregarded  ;  and  the  resentment 
of  the  barons  expressed  itself  in  a  determined  protest  and  a  refusal  of 
further  subsidies.  In  spite  of  their  refusal  however  Henry  gathered 
money  enough  for  a  costly  expedition  for  the  recovery  of  Poitou.  The 
attempt  ended  in  failure  and  shame.  At  Taillebourg  the  forces  under 
1  cnry  fled  in  disgraceful  rout  before  the  French  as  far  as  Saintes,  and 
only  the  sudden  illness  of  Lewis  the  Ninth  and  a  disease  which  scat- 
lere  1  his  army  saved  Bordeaux  from  the  conquerors.  The  treasury 
was  drained,  and  Henry  was  driven  to  make  a  fresh  appeal  to  the 
baronage.  The  growing  resolution  of  the  nobles  to  enforce  good 
government  was  seen  in  their  demand  that  the  confirmation  of  the 
Charier  was  to  be  followed  by  the  election  of  Justiciar,  Chancellor, 
and  Treasurer  in  the  Great  Council,  and  that  a  perpetual  Council  was  to 
attend  the  King  and  devise  further  reforms.  The  plan  broke  against 
INnry's  resistance  and  a  Papal  prohibition.  The  scourge  of  Papal 
taxation  fell  heavily  on  the  clergy.  After  vain  appeals  to  Rome  and 
10  the  King,  Archbishop  Edmund  retired  to  an  exile  of  despair  at 
Pontigny,  and  tax-gatherer  after  tax-gatherer  with  powers  of  excom- 
munication, suspension  from  orders,  and  presentation  to  benefices, 
descended  on  the  unhappy  priesthood.  The  wholesale  pillage  kindled 
a  wide  spirit  of  resistance.  Oxford  gave  the  signal  by  hunting  a  Papal 
legate  out  of  the  city,  amid  cries  of  "  usurer  ''  and  "  simoniac  '  from  the 
mob  of  students.  Fulk  Fitz-Warenne  in  the  name  of  the  barons 
bade  a  Papal  collector  begone  out  of  England.  "  If  you  tarry  three 
days  longer,"  he  added,  "you  and  your  company  shall  be  cut  to  pieces." 
For  a  time  Henry  himself  was  swept  away  by  the  tide  of  national 
indignation.  Letters  from  the  King,  the  nobles  and  the  prelates  pro- 
tested against  the  Papal  exactions,  and  orders  were  given  that  no 
money  should  be  exported  from  the  realm.  But  the  threat  of  interdict 
soon  drove  Henry  back  on  a  policy  of  spohation,  in  which  he  went 
hand  in  haiid  with  Rome. 

The  story  of  this  period  of  misrule  has  been  preserved  for  us  by 
an  annalist  whose  pages  glow  with  the  new  outburst  of  patriotic 
feeling  which  this  common  oppression  of  the  people  and  the  clergy 
had  produced.  Matthew  Paris  is  the  gieatest,  as  be  is  in  reality 
the  last,  of  our  monastic  historians.  The  school  of  S.  Alban's  sur- 
vived indeed  till  a  far  later  time,  but  the  writers  dwindle  into  mere 
annalists  whose  view  is  bounded  by  the  abbey  precincts,  and  whose 
work  is  as  colourless  as  it  is  jejune.  In  Matthew  the  breadth  and 
precision  of  the  narrative,  the  copiousness  of  his  information  on 
topics  whether  national  or  European,  the  general  fairness  and  justice 
of  his  comments,  are  only  surpassed  by  the  patriotic  fire  and  enthu- 
siasm of  the  whole.  He  had  succeeded  Roger  of  Wcndovcr  as 
chronicler  at  S.  Alban's  ;  and  the  Greater  Chronicle  with  an  abridge- 
ment of  it  which  has  long  passed  under  the  name  of  M<itthew  of 


in] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


'47 


Westminster,  a  "  History  of  the  English,"  and  the  **  Lives  of  the 
Earlier  Abbots,"  were  only  a  few  among  the  voluminous  works  which 
attest  his  prodigious  industry.  He  was  an  artist  as  well  as 
an  historian,  and  many  of  the  manuscripts  which  are  preserved  are 
illustrated  by  his  own  hand.  A  large  circle  of  correspondents — bishops 
like  Grosseteste,  ministers  like  Hubert  de  Burgh,  officials  like  Alex- 
ander de  Swereford — furnished  him  with  minute  accounts  of  political 
and  ecclesiastical  proceedings.  Pilgrims  from  the  East  and  Papal 
agents  brought  news  of  foreign  events  to  his  scriptorium  at  S.  Alban's. 
He  had  access  to  and  quotes  largely  from  state  documents,  charters, 
and  exchequer  rolls.  The  frequency  of  the  royal  visits  to  the  abbey 
brought  him  a  store  of  political  intelligence,  and  Henry  himself  con- 
tributed to  the  great  chronicle  which  h  is  preserved  with  so  terrible  a 
faithfulness  the  memory  of  his  weakness  and  misgovernment.  On 
one  solemn  feast-day  the  King  recognized  Matthew,  and  bidding  him 
sit  on  the  middle  step  between  the  floor  and  the  throne,  begged  him 
to  write  the  story  of  the  day's  proceedings.  While  on  a  visit  to  S. 
Alban's  he  invited  him  to  his  table  and  chamber,  and  enumerated  by 
name  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  EngHsh  baronies  for  his  information. 
But  all  this  royal  patronage  has  left  little  mark  on  his  work.  "  The 
case,"  as  he  says,  "  of  historical  writers  is  hard,  for  if  they  tell  the 
truth  they  provoke  men,  and  if  they  write  what  is  false  they  offend 
God."  With  all  the  fulness  of  the  school  of  court  historians,  such  as 
Benedict  or  Hoveden,  Matthew  Paris  combines  an  independence  and 
patriotism  which  is  strange  to  their  pages.  He  denounces  with  the 
same  unsparing  energy  the  oppression  of  the  Papacy  and  the  King. 
His  point  of  view  is  neither  that  of  a  courtier  nor  of  a  churchman,  but 
of  an  Englishman,  and  the  new  national  tone  of  his  chronicle  is  but 
an  echo  of  the  national  sentiment  which  at  last  bound  nobles  and 
yeomen  and  churchmen  together  into  a  people  resolute  to  wrest 
freedom  from  the  Crown. 


Section  VI.— The  Friars. 

[Aitthorities. — Eccleston's  Tract  on  their  arrival  in  England  and  Adam 
Marsh's  Letters,  with  Mr.  Brewer's  admirable  Preface,  in  the  "  Monumi  nia 
Franciscana "  of  the  Rolls  series.  Grosseteste's  Letters  in  the  same  series, 
ef^lited  by  Mr.  Luard.  For  a  general  account  of  the  whole  movement,  see 
Mihnan's  **  Latin  Christianity,"  vol.  iv.  caps.  9  and  10.] 

From  the  tedious  record  of  misgovernment  and  political  weakness 
which  stretches  over  the  forty  years  we  have  passed  through,  we  turn 
with  relief  to  the  story  of  the  Friars. 

Never,  as  we  have  seen,  had  the  priesthood  wielded  such  boundless 


I4& 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


power  over  Christendom  as  in  the  days  of  Innocent  the  Third  and  his 
imiiiediate  successors.  But  its  religious  hold  on  the  people  was 
loosening  day  by  day.  The  old  reverence  for  the  Papacy  was  fading 
away  before  the  universal  resentment  at  its  political  ambition,  its  lavish 
use  of  interdict  and  excommunication  for  purely  secular  ends,  its 
degradation  of  the  most  sacred  sentences  into  means  of  financial 
extortion.  In  Italy  the  struggle  that  was  opening  between  Rome  and 
Frederick  the  Second  disclosed  a  spirit  of  scepticism  which  among  the 
Epicurean  poets  of  Florence  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
attacked  the  very  foundations  of  the  faith  itself.  In  Southern  Gaul, 
Languedoc  and  Provence  had  embraced  the  heresy  of  the  Albigenses, 
and  thrown  off  all  allegiance  to  the  Papacy.  Even  in  England,  though 
there  were  no  signs  as  yet  of  religious  revolt,  and  though  the  political 
action  of  Rome  had  been  in  the  main  on  the  side  of  freedom,  there  wa^ 
a  spirit  of  resistance  to  its  interference  with  national  concerns  which 
broke  out  in  the  struggle  against  John.  "  The  Pope  has  no  part  in 
secular  matters,"  had  been  the  reply  of  London  to  the  interdict  of 
Honorius.  And  within  the  English  Church  itself  there  was  much  to 
call  for  reform.  Its  attitude  in  the  strife  for  the  Charter  as  well  as  the 
after  work  of  the  Primate  had  made  it  more  popular  than  ever  ;  but 
its  spiritual  energy  was  less  than  its  political.  The  disuse  of  preaching, 
the  decline  of  the  monastic  orders  into  rich  landowners,  the  non- 
residence  and  ignorance  of  the  parish  priests,  robbed  the  clergy  of 
spiritual  influence.  The  abuses  of  the  time  foiled  even  the  energy  of 
such  men  as  Bishop  Grosseteste  of  Lincoln.  His  constitutions  forbid 
the  clergy  to  haunt  taverns,  to  gamble,  to  share  in  drinking  bouts,  to 
mix  in  the  riot  and  debauchery  of  the  life  of  the  baronage.  But  such 
prohibitions  only  witness  to  the  prevalence  of  the  evils  they  denounce. 
Bishops  and  deans  were  withdrawn  from  their  ecclesiastical  duties  to 
act  as  ministers,  judges,  or  ambassadors.  Benefices  were  heaped  in 
hundreds  at  a  time  on  royal  favourites  like  John  Mansel.  Abbeys 
absorbed  the  tithes  of  parishes,  and  then  served  them  by  half-starved 
vicars,  while  exemptions  purchased  from  Rome  shielded  the  scandal- 
ous lives  of  canons  and  monks  from,  all  episcopal  discipline.  And 
behind  all  this  was  a  group  of  secular  statesmen  and  scholars,  waging 
indeed  no  open  warfare  with  the  Church,  but  noting  with  bitter  sarcasm 
its  abuses  and  its  f  lults. 

To  bring  the  world  back  again  within  the  pale  of  the  Church  was  the 
aim  of  two  religious  orders  which  sprang  suddenly  to  life  at  the  opening 
of  the  thirteenth  century.  The  zeal  of  the  Spaniard  Dominic  was  roused 
at  the  sight  of  the  lordly  prelates  who  sought  by  fire  and  sword  to  win 
the  Albigensian  heretics  to  the  faith.  "Zeal,"  he  cried,  "must  be  met 
by  zeal,  lowliness  by  lowliness,  false  sanctity  by  real  sanctity,  preaching 
lies  by  preaching  truth."  His  fiery  ardour  and  rigid  orthodoxy  were 
seconded  by  the  mystical  piety,  the  imaginative  enthusiasm  of  Francis 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


149 


of  Assisi.  The  lifvi  of  Francis  falls  like  a  stream  of  tender  light  across 
the  darkness  of  the  time.  In  the  frescoes  of  Giotto  or  the  verse  of 
Dante  we  see  him  take  Poverty  for  his  bride.  He  strips  himself  of  all, 
he  flings  his  very  clothes  at  his  father's  feet,  that  he  may  be  one  with 
Nature  and  God.  His  passionate  verse  claims  the  Moon  for  his  sister 
and  the  Sun  for  his  brother,  he  calls  on  his  brother  the  Wind,  and  his 
sister  the  Water.  His  last  faint  cry  was  a  "  Welcome,  Sister  Death  !  " 
Strangely  as  the  two  men  differed  from  each  other,  their  aim  was  the 
same — to  convert  the  heathen,  to  extirpate  heresy,  to  reconcile  know- 
ledge with  orthodoxy,  to  carry  the  Gospel  to  the  poor.  The  work  was 
to  be  done  by  the  entire  reversal  of  the  older  monasticism,  by  seeking 
personal  salvation  in  effort  for  the  salvation  of  their  fellow-men,  by 
exchanging  the  solitary  of  the  cloister  for  the  preacher,  the  monk  for 
the  friar.  To  force  the  new  "  brethren "  into  entire  dependence  on 
those  among  whom  they  laboured  their  vow  of  Poverty  was  turned  into  a 
stern  reality  ;  the  "  Begging  Friars  "  were  to  subsist  on  the  alms  of  the 
poor,  they  might  possess  neither  money  nor  lands,  the  very  houses  in 
which  they  lived  were  to  be  held  in  trust  for  them  by  others.  The  tide 
of  popular  enthusiasm  which  welcomed  their  appearance  swept  before 
it  the  reluctance  of  Rome,  the  jealousy  of  the  older  orders,  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  parochial  priesthood.  Thousands  of  brethren  gathered  in 
a  few  years  round  Francis  and  Dominic ;  and  the  begging  preachers, 
clad  in  their  coarse  frock  of  serge,  with  a  girdle  of  rope  round  their 
waist,  wandered  barefooted  as  missionaries  over  Asia,  battled  with 
heresy  in  Italy  and  Gaul,  lectured  in  the  Universities,  and  preached 
and  toiled  among  the  poor. 

To  the  towns  especially  the  coming  of  the  Friars  was  a  religious 
revolution.  They  had  been  left  for  the  most  part  to  the  wo>-st  and 
most  ignorant  of  the  clergy,  the  mass-priest,  whose  sole  subsistence 
lay  in  his  fees.  Burgher  and  artisan  were  left  to  spell  out  what 
religious  instruction  they  might  from  the  gorgeous  ceremonies  of  the 
Church's  ritual,  or  the  scriptural  pictures  and  sculptures  which  were 
graven  on  the  walls  of  is  minsters.  We  can  hardly  wonder  at  the 
burst  of  enthusiasm  which  welcomed  the  itinerant  preacher,  whose 
fervid  appeal,  coarse  wit,  and  familiar  story  brought  religion  into  the 
fair  and  the  market-place.  The  Black  Friars  of  Dominic,  the  Grey 
Friars  of  Francis,  were  received  with  the  same  delight.  As  the  older 
orders  had  chosen  the  country,  the  Friars  cho=e  the  town.  They  had 
hardly  Linded  at  Dover  before  they  made  straight  for  London  and 
Oxford.  In  their  ignorance  of  the  road  the  two  first  Grey  Brothers 
lost  their  way  in  the  woods  between  (  xford  and  Baldon,  and  fearful 
of  night  and  of  the  floods,  turned  aside  to  a  grange  of  the  monks  of 
Abingdon.  Their  ragged  clothes  and  foreign  gestures,  as  they  prayed 
for  hospitality,  led  the  porter  to  take  them  for  jongleurs,  the  jesters 
and  jugglers  of  the  day,  and  the  news  of  this  break  in  the  monotony 


I50 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


of  their  lives  brought  prior,  sacrist,  and  cellnrcr  to  the  door  to 
welcome  them  and  witness  their  tricks.  The  disappointment  was  too 
much  for  the  temper  of  the  monks,  and  the  brothers  were  kicked 
roughly  from  ihe  gate  to  find  their  night's  lodging  under  a  tree.  But 
the  welcome  of  the  townsmen  made  up  everywhere  for  the  ill-will  and 
opposition  of  both  clergy  and  monks  The  work  of  the  Friars  was 
physical  as  well  as  moral.  The  rapid  progress  of  population  within 
the  boroughs  had  outstripped  the  sanitary  regulations  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  fever  or  plague  or  the  more  terrible  scourge  of  leprosy 
festered  in  the  wretched  hovels  of  the  suburbs.  It  was  to  haunts  such 
as  these  that  Francis  had  pointed  his  disciples,  and  the  Grey  Brethren 
at  once  fixed  themselves  in  the  meanest  and  poorest  quarters  of  each 
town.  Their  first  work  lay  in  the  noisome  lazar-houses ;  it  was 
amongst  the  lepers  that  they  commonly  chose  the  site  of  their  homes 
At  London  they  settled  in  the  shambles  of  Newgate  ;  at  Oxford  they 
made  their  way  to  the  swampy  ground  between  its  walls  and  the 
streams  of  Thames.  Huts  of  mud  and  timber,  as  mean  as  the  huts 
around  them,  ro  e  within  the  rough  fence  and  ditch  that  bounded  the 
Friary.  The  order  of  Francis  made  a  hard  fight  against  the  taste  for 
sumptuous  buildings  and  for  greater  personal  comfort  which  charac- 
terized the  time.  "  I  did  not  enter  into  religion  to  build  walls,"  pro- 
tested an  English  provincial  when  the  brethren  pressed  for  a  larger 
house  :  and  Albert  of  Pisa  ordered  a  stone  cloister,  which  the  burgessei 
of  Southa  npton  had  built  for  them,  to  be  razed  to  the  ground.  **  You 
need  no  little  mountains  to  lift  your  heads  to  heaven,"  was  his  scornful 
reply  to  a  claim  for  pillows.  None  but  the  sick  went  shod.  An  Oxford 
Friar  found  a  pair  of  shoes  one  mornin'g,  and  wore  them  at  matins. 
At  night  he  dreamt  that  robbers  leapt  on  him  in  a  dangerous  pass 
between  Gloucester  and  Oxford  with  shouts  of  "  Kill,  kill  !  "  "I  am  a 
friar,"  shrieked  the  terror-stricken  brother.  "  You  lie,"  was  the  instant 
answer,  "  for  you  go  shod."  The  Friar  lifted  up  his  foot  in  disproof,  but 
the  shoe  was  there.  In  an  agony  of  repentance  he  woke  and  flung  the 
pair  out  of  window. 

It  was  with  less  success  that  the  order  struggled  against  the  passion 
for  knowledge.  Their  vow  of  poverty,  rigidly  interpreted  as  it  was  by 
their  founders,  would  have  denied  them  the  possession  of  books  or 
materials  for  study.  "  I  am  your  breviary,  I  am  your  breviary,"  Francis 
cried  passionately  to  a  novice  who  asked  for  a  psalter.  When  the 
news  of  a  great  doctor's  reception  was  brought  to  him  at  Paris,  his 
countenance  fell.  •' I  am  afraid,  my  son,"  he  replied,  "that  such 
doctors  will  be  the  destruction  of  my  vineyard.  They  are  the  true 
doctors  who  with  the  meekness  of  wisdom  show  forth  j^ood  works  for 
the  edification  of  their  neighbours."  At  a  later  time  Roger  Bacon,  as 
we  h  ive  seen,  was  suffered  to  possess  neither  ink,  parchment,  nor 
books ;    and   only   the    Pope's   injunctions  could  dispense   with   the 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


'51 


stringent  observance  of  the  rule.  But  one  kind  of  knowledge  indeed 
their  work  almost  forced  on  them.  The  popularity  of  their  preaching 
soon  led  them  to  the  deeper  study  of  theology.  Within  a  short  time 
after  their  establishment  in  England  we  find  as  many  as  thirty  readers 
or  lecturers  appointed  at  Hereford,  Leicester,  Bristol,  and  other  places, 
and  a  regular  succession  of  teachers  provided  at  each  University. 
The  Oxford  Dominicans  lectured  on  theology  in  the  nave  of  their  new 
church,  while  philosophy  was  taught  in  the  cloister.  The  first  pro- 
vincial of  the  Grey  Friars  built  a  school  in  their  Oxford  house,  and 
persuaded  Grosseteste  to  lecture  there.  His  influence  after  his  pro- 
motion to  the  see  of  Lincoln  was  steadily  exerted  to  secure  study 
anrong  the  Friars,  and  their  estabhshment  in  the  University.  He  was 
ably  seconded  by  his  scholar,  Adam  Marsh,  or  de  Marisco,  under 
whom  the  Franciscan  school  at  Oxford  attained  a  reputation  through- 
out Christendom.  Lyons,  Paris,  and  Koln  borrowed  from  it  their 
profe  sors  :  it  was  owing,  indeed,  to  its  influence  that  Oxford  now  rose 
to  a  position  hardly  inferior  to  that  of  Paris  itself  as  a  centre  of 
scholasticism.  The  three  most  profound  and  original  of  the  school- 
men— Roger  Bacon,  Duns  Scotus,  and  Ockham — were  among  its 
scholars  ;  and  they  were  followed  by  a  crowd  of  teachers  hardly  less 
illustrious  in  their  day. 

But  the  result  of  this  powerful  impulse  was  soon  seen  to  be  fatal  to 
the  wider  intellectual  activity  which  had  till  now  characterized  the 
Univt  rsities  Theology  in  its  scholastic  form,  which  now  found  its 
only  efficient  rivals  in  practical  studies  such  as  medicine  and  law, 
resumed  its  supremacy  in  the  schools  ;  while  Aristotle,  who  had 
been  so  long  held  at  bay  as  the  most  dangerous  foe  of  mediaeval 
faith,  was  now  turned  by  the  adoption  of  his  logical  method  in 
the  discussion  and  definition  of  theological  dogma  into  its  unex- 
pected ally.  It  was  this  very  method  that  led  to  "  that  unprofitable 
subtlety  and  curiosity"  which  Lord  Bacon  notes  as  the  vice  of  the 
scholastic  philosophy.  But  "  certain  it  is  " — to  continue  the  same  great 
thinker's  comment  on  the  Friars — "  that  if  these  schoolmen  to  their 
great  thirst  of  truth  and  unwearied  travel  of  wit  had  joined  variety  of 
reading  and  contemplation,  they  had  proved  excellent  lights  to  the 
great  advancement  of  all  learning  and  knowledge."  What,  amidst  all 
their  errors,  they  undoubtedly  did  was  to  insist  on  the  necessity  of  rigid 
demonstration  and  a  more  exact  use  of  words,  to  introduce  a  clear  and 
methodical  treatment  of  all  subjects  into  discussion,  and  above  all  to 
substitute  an  appeal  to  reason  for  unquestioning  obedience  to  autho- 
rity. It  was  by  this  critical  tendency,  by  the  new  clearness  and 
precision  which  scholasticism  gave  to  enquiry,  that  in  spite  of  the 
trivial  questions  with  which  it  often  concerned  itself,  it  trained  the 
human  mind  through  the  next  two  centuries  to  a  temper  which  fitted 
it  to  profit  by  the  great  disclosure  of  knowledge  that  brought  about  the 


152 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Simon 

of 

iKIontfort 


1239-1241 


Renascence.  And  it  is  to  the  same  spirit  of  fearless  enquiry  as  well 
as  to  the  strong  popular  sympathies  which  their  very  constitution 
necessitated  that  we  must  attribute  the  influence  which  the  Friars 
undoubtedly  exerted  in  the  coming  struggle  between  the  people  and 
the  Crown.  Their  position  is  clearly  and  strongly  marked  throughout 
the  whole  contest.  The  University  of  Oxford,  which  had  now  fallen 
under  the  direction  of  their  teaching,  stood  first  in  its  resistance  to 
Papal  exactions  and  its  claim  of  English  liberty.  The  classes  in  the 
towns  on  whom  the  influence  of  the  Friars  told  most  directly  were  the 
steady  supporters  of  freedom  throughout  the  Barons'  war.  Adam 
Marsh  was  the  closest  friend  and  confidant  both  of  Grosseteste  and 
Earl  Simon  of  Montfort. 


Section  VII.— The  Barons'  War,  1258—1265. 

[Authorities. — At  trie  very  outset  of  this  important  period  we  lose  the  price- 
less aid  of  Matthew  Paris.  He  is  the  last  of  the  great  chroniclers  ;  the  Chroni- 
cles of  his  successor  at  S.  Alban's,  Rishanger  (published  by  the  Master  of  the 
Rolls),  are  scant  and  lifeless  jottings,  somewhat  enlai^ed  for  this  period  by  his 
fragment  on  the  Barons'  War  (published  by  Camden  Society).  Something  may 
be  gleaned  from  the  annals  of  Burton,  Melrose,  Dunstable,  Waverley,  Osney, 
and  Lanercost,  the  Royal  Letters,  the  (royalist)  Chronicle  of  Wykes,  and  (for 
London)  the  *'  Liber  de  Antiquis  Legibus."  Mr.  Blaauw  has  given  a  usefu' 
summary  of  the  period  in  his  "  Barons'  War."] 

When  a  thunderstorm  once  forced  the  King,  as  he  was  rowing  on 
the  Thames,  to  take  refuge  at  the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of  Durham, 
Earl  Simon  of  Montfort,  who  was  a  guest  of  the  prelate,  met  the 
royal  barge  with  assurances  that  the  storm  was  drifting  away,  and  that 
there  was  nothing  to  fear.  Henry's  petulant  wit  broke  out  in  his  reply. 
"  If  I  fear  the  thunder,"  said  the  King,  "  I  fear  you,  Sir  Earl,  more  than 
all  the  thunder  in  the  world." 

The  man  whom  Henry  dreaded  as  the  champion  of  English  freedom 
was  himself  a  foreigner,  the  son  of  a  Simon  de  Montfort  whose  name 
had  become  memorable  for  his  ruthless  crusade  against  the  Aibigensian 
heretics  in  Southern  Gaul.  Though  fourth  son  of  this  crusader,  Simon 
became  possessor  of  the  P^nglish  earldom  of  Leicester,  which  he 
inherited  through  his  mother,  and  a  secret  match  with  Eleanor,  the 
King's  sister  and  widow  of  the  second  William  Marshal,  linked  him 
to  the  royal  house.  The  baronage,  indignant  at  this  sudden  alliance 
with  a  stranger,  rose  in  a  revolt  which  failed  only  through  the  deser- 
tion of  their  head,  Earl  Richard  of  Cornwall  ;  while  the  censures  of 
the  Church  on  Eleanor's  breach  of  a  vow  of  chastity,  which  she  haa 
made  at  her  first  husband's  death,  were  hardly  averted  by  a  Journey 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


53 


to  Rome.  Simon  returned  to  find  the  changeable  King  quickly 
alienated  from  him  and  to  be  driven  by  a  burst  of  royal  passion  from 
the  realm.  He  was,  however,  soon  restored  to  favour,  and  before  long 
took  his  stand  in  the  front  rank  of  the  patriot  leaders.  In  1248  he 
was  appointed  Governor  of  Gascony,  where  the  stern  justice  of  his 
rule,  and  the  heavy  taxation  which  his  enforcement  of  order  made 
necessary,  earned  the  hatred  of  the  disorderly  nobles.  The  complaints 
of  the  Gascons  brought  about  an  open  breach  with  the  King.  To 
Earl  Simon's  offer  of  the  surrender  of  his  post  if  the  money  he  had 
spent  in  the  royal  service  were,  as  Henry  had  promised,  repaid  him, 
the  King  hotly  retorted  that  he  was  bound  by  no  promise  to  a  false 
traitor.  Simon  at  once  gave  Henry  the  lie  ;  "  and  but  that  thou 
bearest  the  nam.e  of  King  it  had  been  a  bad  hour  for  thee  when  thou 
utteredst  such  a  word  !  "  A  formal  reconciliation  was  brought  about, 
and  the  Earl  once  more  returned  to  Gascony,  but  before  winter  had 
come  he  was  forced  to  withdraw  to  France.  The  greatness  of  his 
reputation  was  shown  in  an  offer  which  its  nobles  made  him  of  the 
regency  of  their  realm  during  the  absence  of  King  Lewis  on  the  crusade. 
But  the  offer  was  refused  ;  and  Henry,  who  had  himself  under- 
taken the  pacification  of  Gascony,  was  glad  before  the  close  of  1253 
to  recall  its  old  ruler  to  do  the  work  he  had  failed  to  do.  Simon's 
character  had  now  thoroughly  developed.  He  had  inherited  the  strict 
and  severe  piety  of  his  father  ;  he  was  assiduous  in  his  attendance  on 
religious  services  whether  by  night  or  day  ;  he  was  the  friend  of 
Grosseteste  and  the  patron  of  the  Friars.  In  his  correspondence  with 
Adam  Marsh  we  see  him  finding  patience  under  his  Gascon  troubles 
in  the  perusal  of  the  Book  of  Job.  His  Hfe  was  pure  and  singularly 
temperate  ;  he  was  noted  for  his  scant  indulgence  in  meat,  drink,  or 
sleep.  Socially  he  was  cheerful  and  pleasant  in  talk  ;  but  his  natural 
temper  was  quick  and  ardent,  his  sense  of  honour  keen,  his  speech 
r.ipid  and  trenchant.  His  impatience  of  contradiction,  his  fiery  temper, 
were  in  fact  the  great  stumbling-blocks  in  his  after  career.  But  the 
one  characteristic  which  overmastered  all  was  what  men  at  that  time 
called  his  "  constancy,"  the  firm  immoveable  resolve  which  trampled 
even  death  under  foot  in  its  loyalty  to  the  right.  The  motto  which 
Edward  the  Fir^t  chose  as  his  device,  "  Keep  troth,"  was  far  truer  as 
the  device  of  Earl  Simon.  We  see  in  his  correspondence  with  what 
a  clear  discernment  of  its  difficulties  both  at  home  and  abroad  he 
"  thought  it  unbecoming  to  decline  the  danger  of  so  great  an  exploit  " 
as  the  reduction  of  Gascony  to  peace  and  order  ;  but  once  undertaken, 
he  persevered  in  spite  ot  the  opposition  he  met  with,  the  failure  of  all 
support  or  funds  from  England,  and  the  King's  desertion  of  his  cause, 
till  the  work  was  done.  There  is  the  same  steadiness  of  will  and 
purpose  in  his  patriotism.  The  letters  of  Grosseteste  show  how  early 
he  had  learned  to  sympathize  with  the  bishop  in  his  resistance  to  Rome, 


154 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


and  at  the  Crisis  of  the  contest  he  offers  him  his  own  support  and  that 
of  his  associates.  He  sends  to  Adam  Marsh  a  tract  of  Grosseteste's 
on  "  the  rule  of  a  kingdom  and  of  a  t>ranny,"  sealed  with  his  own  seal. 
He  listens  patiently  to  the  advice  of  his  friends  on  the  subject  of  his 
household  or  his  temper.  "  Better  is  a  patient  man,"  writes  honest 
Friar  Adam,  "  than  a  strong  man,  and  he  who  can  rule  his  own  temper 
than  he  who  storms  a  city."  "  Wh;it  use  is  it  to  provide  for  the  peace 
of  your  fellow-citizens  and  not  guard  the  peace  of  your  own  house- 
hold?" It  was  to  secure  **the  peace  of  his  fellow-citizens"  that  the 
Earl  silently  trained  himself  as  the  tide  of  misgovemment  mounted 
higher  and  higher,  and  the  fruit  of  his  discipline  was  seen  when  the 
crisis  came.  While  other  men  wavered  and  faltered  and  fell  away, 
the  enthusiastic  love  of  the  people  gathered  itself  round  the  stern, 
grave  soldier  who  "  stood  like  a  pillar,"  unshaken  by  promise  or  threat 
or  fear  of  death,  by  the  oath  he  had  sworn. 

In  England  affairs  were  going  from  bad  to  worse.  The  Pope  still 
weighed  heavily  on  the  Church.  Two  solemn  confirmations  of  the 
Charter  failed  to  bring  about  any  compliance  with  its  provisions.  In 
1248,  in  1249,  and  again  in  1255,  the  Great  Council  fruitlessly  renewed 
its  demand  for  a  regular  ministry,  and  the  growing  resolve  of  the 
nobles  to  enforce  good  government  was  seen  in  their  offer  of  a  grant 
on  condition  that  the  chief  officers  of  the  Crown  were  appointed  by  the 
Council.  Henry  indignantly  refused  the  offer,  and  sold  his  plate  to 
the  citizens  of  London  to  find  payment  for  his  household.  The  barons 
were  mutinous  and  defiant.  **  I  will  send  reapers  and  reap  your  fields 
for  you,"  Henry  had  threatened  Earl  Bigod  of  Norfolk  when  he  refused 
him  aid.  "  And  I  will  send  you  back  the  heads  of  your  reapers," 
retorted  the  Earl.  Hampered  by  the  j  rofusion  of  the  court  and  by 
the  refusal  of  supplies,  the  Crown  was  penniless,  yet  new  expenses  were 
incurred  by  Henry's  acceptance  of  a  Papal  offer  of  the  kingdom  of 
Sicily  in  favour  of  his  second  son  Edmund.  Shame  had  fallen  on  the 
English  arms,  and  the  King's  eldest  son,  Edward,  had  been  disastrously 
defeated  on  the  Marches  by  Llewelyn  of  Wales.  The  tide  of  dis- 
content, which  was  heightened  by  a  grievous  famine,  burst  its  bounds 
in  the  irritation  excited  by  the  new  demands  from  both  Henry  and 
Rome  with  which  the  year  1258  opened,  and  the  barons  repaired  in 
arms  to  a  Great  Council  summoned  at  London.  The  past  half-centur>' 
had  shown  both  the  strength  and  weakness  of  the  Charter  :  its  strength 
as  a  rallying-point  for  the  baronage,  and  a  definite  assertion  of  rights 
wiiich  the  King  could  be  made  to  acknowledge  ;  its  weakness  in.  pro- 
viding no  means  for  the  enforcement  of  its  own  stipulations.  Henry 
had  sworn  again  and  again  to  observe  the  Charter,  and  his  oath  was 
no  sooner  taken  than  it  was  unscrupulously  broken.  The  barons  had 
secured  the  freedom  of  the  realm  ;  the  secret  of  their  long  patience 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  lay  in  the  difficulty  of  securing  its  righ* 


III.l 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


155 


administration.  It  was  this  difficulty  w'lich  Earl  Simon  was  prepared 
to  solve.  With  the  Earl  of  Gloucester  he  now  appeared  at  the  head  of 
the  baronage  in  arms,  and  demanded  the  appointment  of  a  committee 
of  twenty-four  to  draw  up  terms  for  the  reform  of  the  state.  Although 
half  the  committee  consisted  of  royal  ministers  and  favourites,  it  was 
impossible  to  resist  the  tide  of  popular  feeling.  By  the  "  Provisions 
of  Oxford "  it  was  agreed  that  the  Great  Council  should  assemble 
thrice  in  the  year,  whether  summoned  by  the  King  or  no  ;  and  on  each 
occasion  "  the  Commonalty  shall  elect  twelve  honest  men  who  shall 
come  to  the  Parliaments,  and  at  other  times  when  occasion  shall  be 
when  the  King  and  his  Council  shall  send  for  them,  to  treat  of  the 
wants  of  the  King  and  of  his  kingdom.  And  the  Commonalty  shall 
hold  as  established  that  which  these  Twelve  shall  do."  Three  perma 
nent  committees  were  named — one  to  reform  the  Church,  one  to 
negotiate  financial  aids,  and  a  Permanent  Council  of  Fifteen  to  advise 
the  King  in  the  ordinary  work  of  government.  The  Justiciar,  Chan- 
cellor, and  the  guardians  of  the  King's  castles  swore  to  act  only  with 
the  advice  and  assent  of  the  Permanent  Council,  and  the  first  two  great 
officers,  with  the  Treasurer,  were  to  give  account  of  their  proceedings 
to  it  at  the  end  of  the  year.  Aimual  sheriffs  were  to  be  appointed 
from  among  the  chief  tenants  of  the  county,  and  no  undue  fees  were 
to  be  exacted  for  the  administration  of  justice  in  their  court. 

A  royal  proclamation  in  the  English  tongue,  the  first  in  that  tongue 
since  the  Conquest  which  has  reached  us,  ordered  the  observance  of  these 
Provisions.  Resistance  came  only  from  the  foreign  favourites,  and  an 
armed  demonstration  drove  them  in  flight  over  sea.  The  whole  royal 
power  was  now  in  fact  in  the  hands  of  the  committees  appointed  by 
the  Great  Council  ;  and  the  policy  of  the  administration  was  seen  in  the 
prohibitions  against  any  further  payments,  secular  or  ecclesiastical, 
to  Rome,  in  the  formal  withdrawal  from  the  Sicilian  enterprise,  in 
the  negotiations  conducted  by  Earl  Simon  with  France,  which  finally 
ended  in  the  absolute  renunciation  of  Henry's  title  to  his  lost  provinces, 
and  in  the  peace  which  put  an  end  to  the  incursions  of  the  Welsh. 
Within,  however,  the  measures  of  the  barons  were  feeble  and  selfish 
The  Provisions  of  Westminster,  published  by  them  under  popular 
pressure  in  the  following  year,  for  the  protection  of  tenants  and 
furtherance  of  justice,  brought  little  fruit  ;  and  a  tendency  to  mere 
feudal  privilege  showed  itself  in  an  exemption  of  all  nobles  and  prelates 
from  attendance  at  the  sheriff's  courts.  It  was  in  vain  that  Earl  Simon 
returned  from  his  negotiations  in  France  to  press  for  more  earnest  mea- 
suresof  reform,  or  that  the  King's  son  Edward  remained  faithful  to  his 
oath  to  observe  the  Provisions,  and  openly  supported  him.  Gloucester 
and  Hugh  Bigod,  faithless  to  the  cause  of  reform,  drew  with  the  feudal 
party  to  the  side  of  the  King  ;  and  Henry,  procuring  frojii  the  Pope 
a  bull  which  annulled  the  Provisions  and  freed  him  from  his  oath 


156 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


to  observe  them,  regained  possession  of  the  Tower  and  the  other 
castles,  appointed  a  new  Justiciar,  and  restored  the  old  authority  of  the 
Crown. 

Deserted  as  he  was,  the  Earl  of  Leicester  was  forced  to  with- 
draw for  eighteen  months  to  France,  while  Henry  ruled  in  open 
defiance  of  the  Provisions.  The  confusion  of  the  realm  renewed  the 
disgust  at  his  government  ;  and  the  death  of  Gloucester  re- 
moved the  one  barrier  to  action.  In  1263  Simon  landed  again 
as  the  unquestioned  head  of  the  baronial  party.  The  march 
of  Edward  with  a  royal  army  against  Llewelyn  of  Wales  was 
viewed  by  the  barons  as  a  prelude  to  hostilities  against  them- 
selves ;  and  Earl  Simon  at  once  swept  the  Welsh  border,  marched  on 
Dover,  and  finally  appeared  before  London.  His  power  was  strength- 
ened by  the  attitude  of  the  towns.  The  new  democratic  spirit  which 
we  have  witnessed  in  the  Friars  was  now  stirring  the  purely  industrial 
classes  to  assert  a  share  in  the  municipal  administration,  which  had 
hitherto  been  confined  to  the  wealthier  members  of  the  merchant  gilds, 
and  at  London  and  elsewhere  a  revolution,  which  will  be  described  at 
greater  length  hereafter,  had  thrown  the  government  of  the  city  into 
the  hands  of  the  lower  citizens.  The  "  Communes,"  as  the  new  city 
governments  were  called,  showed  an  enthusiastic  devotion  to  Earl 
Simon  and  his  cause.  The  Queen  was  stopped  in  her  attempt  to 
escape  from  the  Tower  by  an  angry  mob,  who  drove  her  back  with 
stones  and  foul  words.  When  Henry  attempted  to  surprise  Leicester 
in  his  quarters  in  Southwark,  the  Londoners  burst  the  gates  which  had 
been  locked  by  the  richer  burghers  against  him,  and  rescued  him  by  a 
welcome  into  the  city.  The  clergy  and  Universities  went  in  sympathy 
with  the  towns,  and  in  spite  of  the  taunts  of  the  royalists,  who  accused 
him  of  seeking  allies  against  the  nobility  in  the  common  people,  the 
popular  enthusiasm  gave  a  strength  to  Earl  Simon  which  enabled  him 
to  withstand  the  severest  blow  which  had  yet  been  dealt  to  his  cause. 
The  nobles  drew  to  the  King.  The  dread  of  civil  war  gave  strength 
to  the  cry  for  compromise,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  strife  should  be 
left  to  the  arbitration  of  Lewis  the  Ninth  of  France.  In  the  Mise  of 
Amiens  Lewis  gave  his  verdict  wholly  in  favour  of  the  King.  The 
Provisions  of  Oxford  were  annulled.  Only  the  charters  granted 
before  the  Provisions  were  to  be  observed.  The  appointment  and 
removal  of  all  officers  of  state  was  to  be  wholly  with  the  King,  and 
he  was  suffered  to  call  aliens  to  his  councils.  The  blow  was  a  hard 
one,  and  the  decision  of  Lewis  wa?  at  once  confirmed  by  the  Pope. 
The  barons  felt  themselves  bound  by  the  award ;  only  the  ex- 
clusion of  aliens — a  point  which  they  had  not  purposed  to  submit 
to  arbitration — they  refused  to  concede  Simon  at  once  resolved 
on  resistance.  Luckily,  the  French  award  had  reserved  the  rights  of 
Englishmen  to  the  liberties  they  had  enjoyed  before  the  Provisions 


III.] 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER. 


'57 


of  Oxford,  and  it  was  easy  for  Simon  to  prove  that  the  arbitrary 
power  it  gave  to  the  Crown  was  as  contrary  to  the  Charter  as  to  the 
Provisions  themselves.  London  was  the  first  to  reject  the  decision ; 
its  citizens  mustered  at  the  call  of  the  town-bell  at  Saint  Paul's,  seized 
the  royal  officials,  and  plundered  the  royal  parks.  But  an  army  had 
already  mustered  in  great  force  at  the  King's  summons,  and  Leicester 
found  himself  de<^erted  by  baron  after  baron.  Every  day  brought  news 
of  ill.  A  detachment  from  Scotland  joined  Henry's  forces.  The  younger 
De  Montfort  was  taken  prisoner.  Northampton  was  captured, 
the  King  raised  the  siege  of  Rochester,  and  a  rapid  march  of  Earl 
Simon's  only  saved  London  itself  from  a  surprise  by  Edward.  Betrayed 
as  he  was,  the  Earl  remained  firm  to  the  cause.  He  would  fight  to  the 
end,  he  said,  even  were  he  and  his  sons  left  to  fight  alone.  With  an 
army  reinforced  by  15,000  Londoners,  he  marched  to  the  relief  of  the 
Cinque  Ports,  which  were  now  threatened  by  the  King.  Even  on  the 
march  he  was  forsaken  by  many  of  the  nobles  who  followed  him. 
Halting  at  Fletching  in  Sussex,  a  few  miles  from  Lewes,  where  the 
royal  army  was  encamped,  Earl  Simon  with  the  young  Earl  of  Glouces- 
ter offered  the  King  compensation  for  all  damage  if  he  would  observe 
the  Provisions.  Henry's  answer  was  one  of  defiance,  and  though 
numbers  were  against  him  the  Earl  resolved  on  battle.  His  skill  as  a 
soldier  reversed  the  advantages  of  the  ground  ;  marching  at  dawn  he 
seized  the  heights  eastward  of  the  town,  and  moved  down  these  slopes 
to  an  attack.  His  men,  with  white  crosses  on  back  and  breast,  knelt 
in  prayer  before  the  battle  opened.  Edward  was  the  first  to  open  the 
fight ;  his  furious  charge  broke  the  Londoners  on  Leicester's  left,  and  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  hatred  he  pursued  them  for  four  miles,  slaughter- 
ing three  thousand  men.  He  returned  to  find  the  battle  lost.  Crowded 
in  the  narrow  space  with  a  river  in  their  rear,  the  royalist  centre  and 
left  were  crushed  by  Earl  Simon  ;  the  Earl  of  Cornwall,  now  King  of 
the  Romans,  who,  as  the  mocking  song  of  the  victors  ran,  "  makede 
him  a  castel  of  a  mulne  post "  ("  he  weened  that  the  mill-sails  were 
mangonels  "goes  on  the  sarcastic  verse),  was  made  prisoner,  and  Henry 
himself  captured.  Edward  cut  his  way  into  the  Priory  only  to  join  in 
his  father's  surrender. 

The  victory  of  Lewes  placed  Earl  Simon  at  the  head  of  the  state. 
"Now  England  breathes  in  the  hope  of  liberty,"  sang  a  poet  of  the 
time  ;  "the  English  were  despised  like  dogs,  but  now  they  have  lifted 
up  their  head  and  their  foes  are  vanquished."  The  song  announces 
with  almost  legal  precision  the  theory  of  the  patriots.  "  He  who 
would  be  in  truth  a  king,  he  is  a  'free  king'  indeed  if  he  rightly  rule 
himself  and  his  realm.  All  things  are  lawful  to  him  for  the  government 
of  his  kingdom,  but  nothing  for  its  destruction.  It  is  one  thing  to  rule 
according  to  a  king's  duty,  another  to  destroy  a  kingdom  by  resisting 
the  law."     "  Let  the  community  of  the  realm  advise,  and  let  it  be 


158 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


known  what  the  generality,  to  whom  their  own  laws  are  best  known, 
think  on  the  matter.  They  who  are  ruled  by  the  laws  know  those 
laws  best,  they  who  make  daily  trial  of  them  are  best  acquainted  with 
them  ;  and  smce  it  is  their  own  affairs  which  are  at  stake,  they  will 
take  more  care,  and  will  act  with  an  eye  to  their  own  peace."  "  It 
concerns  the  community  to  see  what  sort  of  men  ought  justly  to  be 
chosen  for  the  weal  of  the  realm."  The  constitutional  restrictions  on 
the  royal  authority,  the  right  of  the  whole  nation  to  deliberate  and 
decide  on  its  own  affairs,  and  to  have  a  voice  in  the  selection  of  the 
administrators  of  government,  had  never  been  so  clearly  stated  before 
But  the  moderation  of  the  terms  agreed  upon  in  the  Mise  of  Lewes, 
a  convention  between  the  King  and  his  captors,  shows  Simon's  sense 
of  the  difificultics  of  his  pos  tion.  The  question  of  the  Provisions  was 
again  to  be  submitted  to  arbitration  ;  and  a  parliament  in  June,  to 
which  four  knights  were  summoned  from  every  county,  placed  the 
administration  till  this  arbitration  was  complete  in  the  hands  of  a  new 
council  of  nine,  to  be  nominated  by  the  Earls  of  Leicester  and 
Gloucester  and  the  patriotic  Bishop  of  Chichester.  Responsibility 
to  the  community  was  provided  for  by  the  declaration  of  a  right  in  the 
body  of  barons  and  prelates  to  remove  either  of  the  fhree  Electors, 
who  in  turn  could  displace  or  appoint  the  members  of  the  Council. 
Such  a  constitution  was  of  a  different  order  from  the  cumbrous  and 
oligarchical  Committees  of  1258.  But  the  plans  for  arbitration  broke 
down,  Lewis  refused  to  review  his  decision,  and  the  Pope  formally 
condemned  the  barons'  cause.  The  Earl's  difficulties  thickened  every 
day.  The  Queen  gathered  an  army  in  France  for  an  invasion,  and 
the  barons  on  the  Welsh  border  were  still  in  arms.  It  was  impossible 
to  make  binding  terms  with  an  imprisoned  King,  yet  to  release  Henry 
without  terms  was  to  renew  the  war.  A  new  parliament  was  summoned 
in  January,  1265,  to  Westminster,  but  the  weakness  of  the  patriotic 
party  among  the  baronage  was  shown  in  the  fact  that  only  twenty-three 
earls  and  barons  could  be  found  to  sit  beside  the  hundred  and  twenty 
ecclesiastics.  But  it  was  just  this  sense  of  his  weakness  that  drove  Ear' 
Simon  to  a  constitutional  change  of  mighty  issue  in  our  history.  As 
before,  he  summoned  two  knights  from  every  county.  But  he  created 
a  new  force  in  English  politics  when  he  summoned  to  sit  beside  them 
two  citizens  from  every  borough.  The  attendance  of  delegates  from 
the  towns  had  long  been  usu.il  in  the  county  courts  w'len  any  matter 
respecting  their  interests  was  in  question  ;  but  it  was  the  writ  issued 
by  Earl  Simon  that  first  summoned  the  merchant  and  the  trader  to  sit 
beside  the  knight  of  the  shire,  the  baron,  and  the  bishop  in  the 
parliament  of  the  realm. 

It  is  only  this  great  event  however  which  enables  us  to  under 
stand  the  large  and  prescient  nature  of  Earl  Simon's  designs. 
Hardly  a  few  months  had  passed  since  the  victory  of  Lewes,  and 


III.l 


THE  GREAT  CHARTER, 


159 


already,  when  the  burghers  took  their  seats  at  Westminster,  his 
government  was  tottering  to  its  fall.  Dangers  from  without  the  Earl 
had  met  with  complete  success ;  a  general  muster  of  the  national 
forces  on  Barham  Down  put  an  end  to  the  projects  of  invasion  enter- 
tained by  the  mercenaries  whom  the  Queen  had  collected  in  Flanders  ; 
the  threats  of  France  died  away  into  negotiations^;  the  Papal  Legate 
was  forbidden  to  cross  the  Channel,  and  his  bulls  of  excommunication 
were  flung  into  the  sea.  But  the  difficulties  at  home  grew  more  formid- 
able every  day.  The  restraint  upon  Henry  and  Edward  jarred  against 
the  national  feeling  of  loyalty,  and  estranged  the  mass  of  Englishmen 
who  always  side  with  the  weak.  Small  as  the  patriotic  party  among 
the  barons  had  always  been,  it  grew  smaller  as  dissensions  broke  out 
over  the  spoils  of  victory.  The  Earl's  justice  and  resolve  to  secure  the 
public  peace  told  heavily  against  him.  John  Giffard  left  him  because 
he  refused  to  allow  him  to  exact  ransom  from  a  prisoner  contrary  to 
the  agreement  made  after  Lewes.  The  young  Earl  Gilbert  of  Gloucester, 
though  enriched  with  the  estates  of  the  foreigners,  resented  Leicester's 
prohibition  of  a  tournament,  his  naming  the  wardens  of  the  royal 
castles  by  his  own  authority,  and  his  holding  Edward's  fortresses  on 
the  Welsh  marches  by  his  own  garrisons.  Gloucester's  later  conduct 
proves  the  wisdom  of  Leicester's  precautions.  In  the  spring  Parlia- 
ment of  1265  he  openly  charged  the  Earl  with  violating  the  Mise  of 
Lewes,  with  tyranny,  and  with  aiming  at  the  crown.  Before  its  close 
he  withdrew  to  his  own  lands  in  the  west,  and  secretly  allied  himself 
with  Roger  Mortimer  and  the  Marcher  barons.  Earl  Simon  soon 
followed  him  to  the  west,  taking  with  him  the  King  and  Edward.  He 
moved  along  the  Severn,  securing  its  towns,  advanced  westward  to 
Hereford,  and  was  marching  at  the  end  of  June  along  bad  roads  into 
the  heart  of  South  Wales  to  attack  the  fortresses  of  Earl  Gilbert  in 
Glamorgan  when  Edward  suddenly  made  his  escape  from  Hereford 
and  joined  Gloucester  at  Ludlow.  The  moment  had  been  skilfully 
chosen,  and  Edward  showed  a  rare  ability  in  the  movements  by  which 
he  took  advantage  of  the  Earl's  position.  Moving  rapidly  along  the 
Severn  he  seized  Gloucester  and  the  bridges  across  the  river,  destroyed 
the  ships  by  which  Leicester  strove  to  escape  across  the  Channel  to 
Bristol,  and  cut  him  off  altogether  from  England.  By  this  movement 
too  he  placed  himself  between  the  Earl  and  his  son  Simon,  who  was 
advancing  from  the  east  to  his  father's  relief.  Turning  rapidly  on  this 
second  force  Edward  surprised  it  at  Kenilworth  and  drove  it  with  heavy 
loss  within  the  walls  of  the  castle.  But  the  success  was  more  than  com- 
pensated by  the  opportunity  which  his  absence  gave  to  the  Earl  01 
breaking  the  line  of  the  Severn.  Taken  by  surprise  and  isolated  as  he 
was,  Simon  had  been  forced  to  seek  for  aid  and  troops  in  an  avowed 
alliance  with  Llewelyn,  and  it  was  with  Welsh  reinforcements  that  he 
turned  to  the  east.     But  the  seizure  of  his  ships  and  of  the  bridges  of 


i6o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  Severn  held  him  a  prisoner  in  Edward's  grasp,  and  a  fierce  attack 
drove  him  back,  with  broken  and  starving  forces,  into  the  Welsh  hills. 
In  utter  despair  he  struck  northward  to  Hereford  ;  but  the  absence  of 
Edward  now  enabled  him  on  the  2nd  of  August  to  throw  his  troops  in 
boats  across  the  Severn  below  Worcester.  The  news  drew  Edward 
quickly  back  in  a  fruitless  counter-march  to  the  river,  for  the  Earl  had 
already  reached  Evesham  by  a  long  night  march  on  the  morning  of  the 
4th,  while  his  son,  relieved  in  turn  by  Edward's  counter-march,  had 
pushed  in  the  same  night  to  the  little  town  of  Alcester.  The  two  armies 
were  now  but  some  ten  miles  apart,  and  their  junction  see:ned  secured. 
But  both  were  spent  with  long  marching,  and  while  the  Earl,  listening 
reluctantly  to  the  request  of  the  King,  who  accompanied  him,  halted  at 
Evesham  for  mass  and  dinner,  the  army  of  the  younger  Simon  halted 
for  the  same  purpose  at  Alcester. 

"Those  two  dinners  doleful  were,  alas  I"  sings  Robert  of  Gloucester ; 
for  through  the  same  memorable  night  Edward  was  hurrying  back  from 
the  Severn  by  country  cross-lanes  to  seize  the  fatal  gap  that  lay  between 
them.  As  morning  broke  his  army  lay  across  the  road  that  led  north- 
ward from  Evesham  to  Alcester.  Evesham  lies  in  a  loop  of  the  river 
Avon  where  it  bends  to  the  south  ;  and  a  height  on  which  Edward 
ranged  his  troops  closed  the  one  outlet  from  it  save  across  the  river. 
But  a  force  had  been  thrown  over  the  river  under  Mortimer  to  seize 
the  bridges,  and  all  retreat  was  thus  finally  cut  off.  The  approach  of 
Edward's  army  called  Simon  to  the  front,  and  for  the  moment  he  took 
it  for  his  son's.  Though  the  hope  soon  died  away  a  touch  of  soldierly 
pride  moved  him  as  he  recognized  in  the  orderly  advance  of  his 
enemies  a  proof  of  his  own  training.  "  By  the  arm  of  St.  James,"  he 
cried,  "  they  come  on  in  wise  fashion,  but  it  was  from  me  that  they 
learnt  it."  A  glance  however  satisfied  him  of  the  hopelessness  of  a 
struggle  ;  it  was  impossible  for  a  handful  of  horsemen  with  a  mob  of 
half-armed  Welshmen  to  resist  the  disciplined  knighthood  of  the  royal 
army.  "  Let  us  com  nend  our  souls  to  God,"  Simon  said  to  the  little 
group  around  him,  "for  our  bodies  are  the  foe's."  He  bade  Hugh 
Despenser  and  the  rest  of  his  comrades  fly  from  the  field.  "If  he 
died,"  was  the  noble  answer,  "  they  had  no  will  to  live."  In  three  hours 
the  butchery  was  over.  The  Welsh  fled  at  the  first  onset  like  sheep, 
and  were  cut  ruthlessly  down  in  the  cornfields  and  gardens  where  they 
sought  refuge.  The  little  group  of  knights  around  Simon  fought 
desperately,  falling  one  by  one  till  the  Earl  was  left  alone.  So  terrible 
were  his  sword-strokes  that  he  had  all  but  gained  the  hill-top  when  a 
lance-thrust  brought  his  horse  to  the  ground,  but  Simon  still  rejected 
the  summons  to  yield,  till  a  blow  from  behind  felled  him,  mortally 
wounded,  to  the  ground.  Then  with  a  last  cry  of"  It  is  God's  grace" 
the  soul  of  the  great  patriot  passed  away. 


IV] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


i6i 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    THREE   EDWARDS. 

1265— 1360. 

Section  I.— The  Conquest  of  Wales,  1265—1284-. 

[Authorities. — For  the  general  state  of  Wales,  see  the  "  Itinerarium  Cam- 
briae"  of  Giraldus  Cambrensis  :  for  its  general  listory,  the  "  Brut-y-Tywy- 
sogion,"  and  "  Annales  Cambriae."  jmblished  by  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  ;  the 
Chronicle  of  Caradoc  of  Lancarvan,  as  given  in  the  tran  lation  by  Powel  ; 
and  Warringt  n's  "  History  of  Wales."  Stephen's  "  Literature  of  the  Cymry  " 
affords  a  general  view  of  Welsh  poetry  ;  the  "  Mabinogion"  have  been  published 
by  Lady  Charlotte  Guest.  In  his  essays  on  "  1  he  Study  of  Celtic  Literature," 
Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  has  admirably  illustrated  the  characteristics  of  the 
Welsh  Poetry.  For  English  affairs  the  monastic  annals  we  have  before 
mentioned  are  supplemented  by  the  jejune  entries  of  Trivet  and  Murimuth.] 

While  literature  and  science  after  a  brief  outburst  were  crushed  in 
England  by  the  turmoil  of  the  Barons'  War,  a  poetic  revival  had 
brought  into  sharp  contrast  the  social  and  intellectual  condition  of 
Wale.. 

To  all  outer  seeming  Wales  had  in  the  thirteenth  century  become 
utterly  barbarous.  Stripped  of  every  vestige  of  the  older  Roman 
civilization  by  ages  of  bitter  warfare,  of  civil  strife,  of  estrangement 
from  the  general  culture  of  Christendom,  the  unconquered  Britons  had 
sunk  into  a  mass  of  savage  herdsmen,  clad  in  the  skins  and  fed  by 
the  milk  of  the  cattle  they  tended,  faithless,  greedy,  and  revengeful, 
retaining  no  higher  political  organization  than  that  of  the  clan,  broken 
by  ruthless  feuds,  united  only  in  battle  or  in  raid  against  the  stranger. 
But  in  the  heart  of  the  wild  people  there  still  lingered  a  spark  of  the 
poetic  fire  which  had  nerved  it  four  hundred  years  before,  through 
Aneurin  and  Llywarch  Hen,  to  its  struggle  with  the  Saxon.  At  the 
hour  of  its  lowest  degradation  the  silence  of  Wales  was  suddenly 
broken  by  a  crowd  of  singers.  The  song  of  the  twelfth  century  burst 
forth,  not  from  one  bard  or  another,  but  from  the  nation  at  large. 
"  In  every  house,"  says  the  shrewd  Gerald  de  Barri,  "  strangers  who 
arrived  in  the  morning  were  entertained  till  eventide  with  the  talk  of 
maidens  and  the  music  of  the  harp."  The  romantic  literature  of  the 
race  found  an  admirable  means  of  utterance  in  its  tongue,  as  real  a 
developement  of  the  old  Celtic  language  heard  by  Caesar  as  the 
Ro.nance  tongues  are  developements  of  Caesar's  Latin,  but  which  at 

G 


.t62 


HISTORY  OF  TilE  ENGUSH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


a  far  earlier  date  than  any  other  language  of  modem  Kurope  had 
attained  to  definite  structure  and  to  settled  literary  form.  No  other 
mcdiaival  literature  shows  at  its  outset  the  same  elaborate  and  com- 
pleted organization  as  that  of  the  Welsh.  But  within  these  settled 
forms  the  Celtic  fancy  plays  with  a  startling  freedom.  In  one  of  the 
later  poems  Gwion  the  Little  trpnsforms  himself  into  a  hare,  a 
fish,  a  bird,  a  grain  of  wheat;  but  he  is  only  the. symbol  of  the 
stiange  shapes  in  which  the  Celtic  fancy  embodies  itself  in  the  tales 
or  "Mabinogion"  which  reached  their  highest  perfection  in  the 
legends  of  Arthur.  Its  gay  extravagance  flings  defiance  to  all  fart, 
tradition,  probability,  and  revels  in  the  impossible  and  unreal.    When 

\rthur  sails  into  the  unknown  world,  it  is  in  a  ship  of  glass.  The 
"  descent  into  hell,"  as  a  Celtic  poet  paints  it,  shakes  off  the  mcdiiS'.  al 
horror  with  the  mediaeval  reverence,  and  the  knight  who  achieves  the 
quest  spends  his  years  of  infernal  durance  in  hunting  and  minstrelsy, 
and  in  converse  with  fair  women.  The  world  of  the  Mabinogion  is  a 
world  of  pure  phantasy,  a  new  earth  of  marvels  and  enchantments,  of 
dark  forests  who  e  silence  is  broken  by  the  hermii's  bdl,  and  sunny 
glades  where  the  light  plays  on  the  hero's  armour.  Each  figure  as  it 
moves  across  the  poet's  canvas  is  bright  with  glancing  colour.  "  The 
maiden  was  clothed  in  a  robe  of  flame-coloured  silk,  and  about  her 
neck  was  a  collar  of  ruddy  gold  in  which  were  preciou~>  emeralds  and 
rubies.  Her  head  was  of  brighter  gold  than  the  flower  of  the  broom, 
her  skin  was  whiter  than  the  foam  of  the  wave,  and  fairer  were  her 
hands  and  her  fingers  than  the  blossoms  of  the  wood-anemone  amidst 
the  spray  of  the  meadow  fountain.  The  eye  of  the  trained  hawk,  the 
glance  of  the  falcon,  was  not  brighter  than  hers.  Her  bosom  was 
more  snowy  than  the  breast  of  the  white  swan,  her  cheek  was  redder 
than  the  reddest  roses.'  Everywhere  there  is  an  Oriental  profusion 
of  gorgeous   imagery,   but   the  gorgeousness  is   seldom   oppressive. 

I  he  sensibility  of  the  Celtic  temper,  so  quick  to  perceive  beauty,  so 
eager  in  its  thirst  for  life,  its  emotions,  its  adventures,  its  sorrows,  its 
joys,  is  tempered  by  a  passionate  melancholy  that  expresses  its  revolt 
against  the  impossible,  by  an  instinct  of  what  is  noble,  by  a  sentiment 
that  discovers  the  weird  charm  of  nature.  Some  graceful  play  of  pure 
fancy,  some  tender  note  of  feeling,  some  magical  touch  of  beauty, 
relieves  its  wildest  extravagance.  As  Kalweh's  greyhounds  bound 
from  side  to  side  of  their  master's  steed,  they  **  sport  round  him  like 
two  sea  swallows."  His  spear  is  "  swifter  than  the  fall  of  the  dewdrop 
from  the  blade  of  reed-grass  upon  the  earth  when  the  dew  of  June  is 
at  the  heaviest."  A  subtle,  observant  love  of  nature  and  natural  beauty 
takes  fresh  colour  from  the  passionate  human  sentiment  with  which  it 
is  imbued,  sentiment  which  breaks  out  in  Gwalchmai's  cry  of  nature- 
love,  "  I  love  the  birds  and  their  sweet  voices  in  the  lulling  sones  of 
the  wood,"  in  his  watches  at  night   beside  the  fords  'among  the 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


'63 


untrodden  grass  "  to  hear  the  nightingale  and  watch  the  play  of  the  sea- 
mew.  Even  patriotism  takes  the  same  picturesque  form  ;  the  Welsh 
poet  hates  the  flat  and  sluggish  land  of  the  Saxon  ;  as  he  dwells  on  his 
own,  he  tells  of  "  its  sea-coast  and  its  mountains,  its  towns  on  the 
forest  border,  its  fair  landscape,  its  dales,  its  waters,  and  its  valleys,  its 
white  sea-mews,  its  beauteous  women.''  But  the  song  passes  swiftly 
and  subtly  into  a  world  of  romantic  sentiment :  "  I  love  its  fields 
clothed  with  tender  trefoil,  I  love  the  marches  of  Merioneth  where  my 
head  was  pillowed  on  a  snow-white  arm."  In  the  Celtic  love  of  woman 
there  is  little  of  the  Teutonic  depth  and  earnestness,  but  in  its  stead  a 
childlike  spirit  of  dehcate  enjoyment,  a  faint  distant  flush  of  passion 
like  the  rose  light  of  dawn  on  a  snowy  mountain  peak,  a  playful  delight 
in  beauty.  "  White  is  my  love  as  the  apple  blossom,  as  the  ocean's 
spray  ;  her  face  shines  like  the  pearly  dew  on  Eryri  ;  the  glow  of  her 
cheeks  is  like  the  light  of  sunset."  The  buoyant  and  elastic  temper  of 
the  French  tro'uvere  was  spiritualized  in  the  Welsh  singers  by  a  more 
refined  poetic  feeling.  "  Whoso  beheld  her  was  filled  with  her  love. 
Four  white  trefoils  sprang  up  wherever  she  trod."  The  touch  of  pure 
fancy  removes  its  object  out  of  the  sphere  of  passion  into  one  of 
delight  and  reverence. 

It  is  strange,  as  we  have  said,  to  pass  from  the  world  of  actual  Welsh 
histoiy  into  such  a  world  as  this.  But  side  by  side  with  this  wayward, 
fanciful  stream  of  poesy  and  romance  ran  a  torrent  of  intenser  song. 
The  old  spirit  of  the  earlier  bards,  their  joy  in  battle,  their  love  for 
freedom,  their  hatred  of  the  Saxon,  broke  out  in  ode  after  ode,  in  songs 
extravagant,  monotonous,  often  prosaic,  but  fused  into  poetry  by  the 
intense  fire  of  patriotism  which  glowed  within  them.  The  rise  of  the 
new  poetic  feeling  indeed  marked  the  appearance  of  a  new  energy  in 
the  long  struggle  with  the  English  conqueror. 

Of  the  three  Welsh  states  into  which  all  that  remained  unconquered 
of  Britain  had  been  broken  by  the  victories  of  Deorham  and  Chester, 
two  had  long  ceased  to  exist.  The  country  between  the  Clyde  and  the 
Dee  had  been  gradually  absorbed  by  the  conquests  of  Northumbria 
and  the  growth  of  the  Scot  monarchy.  West  Wales,  between  the 
British  Channel  and  the  estuary  of  the  Severn,  had  yielded  to  the 
sword  of  Ecgberht.  But  a  fiercer  resistance  prolonged  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  great  central  portion  which  alone  in  modern  language 
preserves  the  name  of  Wales.  In  itself  the  largest  and  most  powerful 
of  the  British  states,  it  was  aided  in  its  struggle  against  Mercia  by  the 
weakness  of  its  assdlant,  the  youngest  and  least  powerful  of  the 
English  states,  as  well  as  by  the  internal  warfare  which  distracted 
the  energies  of  the  invaders.  But  Mercia  had  no  sooner  risen  to 
supremacy  among  the  English  kingdoms  than  it  took  the  work  of 
conquest  vigorously  in  hand.  Offa  tore  from  Wales  the  border  land 
between  the  Severn  and  the  Wye  ;  the  raids  of  his  successors  carried 


Sec.  I. 

The  Con- 
quest Of 
Wales 

1265 

TO 

1284 


England 
and  tbc 
'We  sh 


I64 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


fire  and  sword  into  the  heart  of  the  country  ;  and  an  acknowledgement 
of  the  Mercian  over-lordship  was  wrested  from  the  Welsh  princes.  On 
the  fall  of  Mercia  this  passed  to  the  West-Saxon  kings.  The  Laws  of 
Howel  Dda  own  the  payment  of  a  yearly  tribute  by  "  the  prince  of 
Aberffraw "  to  "  the  King  of  London."  The  weakness  of  England 
during  her  long  struggle  with  the  Danes  revived  the  hopes  of  British 
independence.  But  with  the  fall  of  the  Danelaw  the  Welsh  princes 
were  again  brought  to  submission,  and  when  in  the  midst  of  the  Con- 
fessor's reign  the  Welsh  seized  on  a  quarrel  between  the  houses  of 
Leofric  and  Godwine  to  cross  the  border  and  carry  their  attacks  into 
England  itself,  the  victories  of  Harold  re-asserted  the  English  sup- 
remacy. His  light-armed  troops  disembarking  on  the  coast  pene- 
trated to  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  and  the  successors  of  the 
Welsh  prince  Gruffydd,  whose  head  was  the  trophy  of  the  campaign, 
swore  to  observe  the  old  fealty  and  render  the  old  tribute  to  the 
English  Crown. 

A  far  more  desperate  struggle  began  when  the  wave  of  Norman 
conquest  broke  on  the  Welsh  frontier.  A  chain  of  great  earldoms, 
settled  by  William  along  the  border-land,  at  once  bridled  the  old 
marauding  forays.  From  his  county  palatine  of  Chester,  Hugh  the 
Wolf  harried  Flintshire  into  a  desert  ;  Robert  of  Belesme,  in  his 
earldom  of  Shrewsbury,  "  slew  the  Welsh,"  says  a  chronicler,  "  like 
sheep,  conquered  them,  enslaved  them,  and  flayed  them  with  nails  of 
iron."  Backed  by  these  greater  baronies  a  horde  of  lesser  adventurers 
obtained  the  royal  "  licence  to  make  conquest  on  the  Welsh." 
Monmouth  and  Abergavenny  were  seized  and  guarded  by  Norman 
castellans;  Bernard  of  Neufmarch^  won  the  lordship  of  Brecknock ; 
Roger  of  Montgomery  raised  the  town  and  fortress  in  Powysland 
which  still  preserves  his  name.  A  great  rising  of  the  whole  people  in 
the  days  of  the  second  William  at  last  recovered  some  of  this  Norman 
spoil.  The  new  castle  of  Montgomery  was  burned,  Brecknock  and 
Cardigan  were  cleared  of  the  invaders,  and  the  Welsh  poured  ravaging 
over  the  English  border.  Twice  the  Red  King  carried  his  arms 
fruitlessly  among  the  mountains,  against  enemies  who  took  refuge  in 
their  fastnesses  till  famine  and  hardship  had  driven  his  broken  host 
into  retreat.  The  wiser  policy  of  Henry  the  First  fell  back  on  his 
father's  system  of  gradual  conquest,  ^nd  a  new  tide  of  invasion  flowed 
along  the  coast,  where  the  land  was  level  and  open  and  accessible 
from  the  sea.  The  attack  was  aided  by  internal  strife.  Robert 
Fitz-Hamo,  the  lord  of  Gloucester,  was  summoned  to  his  aid  by  a 
Welsh  chieftain  ;  and  the  defeat  of  Rhys  ap  Tewdor,  the  last  prince 
under  whom  Southern  Wales  was  united,  produced  an  anarchy  which 
enabled  Robert  to  land  safely  on  the  coast  of  Glamorgan,  to  conquer 
the  country  round,  and  to  divide  it  among  his  soldiers.  A  force  of 
Flemings  and  Englishmen  followed  the  Earl  of  Clare  as  he  landed 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


I6S 


near  Milford  Haven,  and  pushing  back  the  British  inhabitants  settled 
a  "  Little  England "  in  the  present  Pembrokeshire.  A  few  daring 
adventurers  accompanied  the  Norman  Lord  of  Kemeys  into  Cardigan, 
where  land  might  be  had  for  the  winning  by  any  one  who  would  "  wage 
war  on  the  Welsh." 

It  was  at  this  moment,  when  the  utter  subjugation  of  the  British 
race  seemed  at  hand,  that  a  new  outburst  of  energy  rolled  back  the 
tide  of  invasion  and  changed  the  fitful  resistance  of  the  separate  Welsh 
provinces  into  a  national  effort  to  regain  independence.  A  new  poetic 
fire,  as  we  have  seen,  sprang  into  hfe.  Every  fight,  every  hero,  had 
suddenly  its  verse.  The  names  of  the  older  bards  were  revived  in 
bold  forgeries  to  animate  the  national  resistance  and  to  prophesy 
victory.  It  was  in  North  Wales  that  the  new  spirit  of  patriotism 
received  its  strongest  inspiration  from  this  burst  of  song.  Again  and 
again  Henry  the  Second  was  driven  to  retreat  from  the  impregnable 
fastnesses  where  the  "  Lords  of  Snowdon,"  the  princes  of  the  house  of 
Gruffydd  ap  Conan,  claimed  supremacy  over  Wales.  Once  a  cry 
arose  that  the  King  was  slain,  Henry  of  Essex  flung  down  the  royal 
standard,  and  the  King's  desperate  efforts  could  hardly  save  his  army 
from  utter  rout.  In  a  later  campaign  the  invaders  were  met  by 
storms  of  rain,  and  forced  to  abandon  their  baggage  in  a  headlong 
flight  to  Chester.  The  greatest  of  the  Welsh  odes,  that  known  to 
English  readers  in  Gray's  translation  as  "  The  Triumph  of  Owen,"  is 
Gwalchmai's  song  of  victory  over  the  repulse  of  an  English  fleet  from 
Abermenai.  The  long  reigns  of  the  two  Llewelyns,  the  sons  of 
Jorwerth  and  of  Gruffydd,  which  all  but  cover  the  last  century  of  Welsh 
independence,  seemed  destined  to  realize  the  hopes  of  their  country- 
men. The  homage  which  the  first  succeeded  in  extorting  from  the 
whole  of  the  Welsh  chieftains  placed  him  openly  at  the  head  of  his 
race,  and  gave  a  new  character  to  his  struggle  with  the  English  King. 
In  consolidating  his  authority  within  his  own  domains,  and  in  the 
assertion  of  his  lordship  over  the  princes  of  the  south,  Llewelyn  ap 
Jorwerth  aimed  steadily  at  securing  the  means  of  striking  off  the  yoke 
of  the  Saxon.  It  was  in  vain  that  John  strove  to  buy  his  friendship 
by  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Johanna.  Fresh  raids  on  the  Marches 
forced  the  King  to  enter  Wales ;  but  though  his  army  reached 
Snowdon  it  fell  back  like  its  predecessors,  starved  and  broken  before 
an  enemy  it  could  never  reach.  A  second  attack  had  better  success. 
The  chieftains  of  South  Wales  were  drawn  from  their  new  allegiance 
to  join  the  English  forces,  and  Llewelyn,  prisoned  in  his  fastnesses,  was 
at  last  driven  to  submit.  But  the  ink  of  the  treaty  was  hardly  dry 
before  Wales  was  again  on  fire  ;  the  common  fear  of  the  English  once 
more  united  its  chieftains,  and  the  war  between  John  and  his  barons 
removed  all  dread  of  a  new  invasion.  Absolved  from  his  allegiance 
to  an  excommunicated  King,  and  allied  with  the  barons  under  Fitz- 


1 6b 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(CHAV 


Walter— too  glad  to  enlist  in  their  cause  a  prince  who  could  hold  in 
check  the  nobles  of  the  border  country,  where  the  royalist  cause  was 
strongest— Llewelyn  seized  his  opportunity  to  reduce  Shrewsbury',  to 
annex  Powys,  where  the  English  influence  had  always  been  powerful, 
to  clear  the  royal  garrisons  from  Caermarthen  and  Cardigan,  and  to 
force  even  the  Flemings  of  Pembroke  to  do  him  homage. 

The  hopes  of  Wales  rose  higher  and  higher  with  each  triumph  of 
the  Lord  of  Snowdon.  The  court  of  Llewelyn  was  crowded  with 
bardic  singers.  "  He  pours,"  sings  one  of  them,  "his  gold  into  the 
lap  of  the  bard  as  the  ripe  fruit  falls  from  the  trees."  But  gold  was 
hardly  needed  to  wake  their  enthusiasm.  Poet  after  poet  sang  of  "  the 
Devastator  of  England,"  the  "  Eagle  of  men  that  loves  not  to  lie  nor 
sleep,"  "  towering  above  the  rest  of  men  with  his  long  red  lance," 
his  "  red  helmet  of  battle  crested  with  a  fierce  wolf"  "  The  sound 
of  his  coining  is  like  the  roar  of  the  wave  as  it  rushes  to  the  shore, 
that  can  neither  be  stayed  nor  appeased."  Les  er  bards  strung 
together  his  victories  in  rough  jingle  of  rime  and  hounded  him  on 
to  the  slaughter.  "  Be  of  good  courage  in  the  slaughter,"  sings  Elidir, 
"  cling  to  thy  work,  destroy  England,  and  plunder  its  multitudes." 
A  fierce  thirst  for  blood  runs  through  the  abrupt,  passionate  versee 
of  the  court  singers.  "  Swansea,  that  tranquil  town,  was  broken  in 
heaps,"  bursts  out  a  triumphant  poet  •  "  St.  Clears,  with  its  bright 
white  lands,  it  is  not  Saxons  who  hold  it  now  !  "  "  In  Swansea,  the 
key  of  Lloegria,  we  made  widows  of  all  the  wives."  "  The  dread  Eagle 
is  wont  to  lay  corpses  in  rows,  and  to  feast  with  the  leader  of  wolve? 
and  with  hovering  ravens  glutted  with  flesh,  butchers  with  keen  scent 
of  carcases."  "  Better,"  closes  the  song,  "  is  the  grave  than  the  life  ol 
man  who  sighs  when  the  horns  call  him  forth  to  the  squares  of  battle." 
But  even  in  bardic  verse  Llewelyn  rises  high  out  of  the  mere  mob  ol 
chieftains  who  live  by  rapine,  and  boast  as  the  Hirlas-horn  passes  from 
hand  to  h  md  through  the  hall  that  "  they  take  and  give  no  quarter." 
"  Tender-hearted,  wise,  witty,  ingenious,"  he  was  "  the  great  Caesar" 
who  was  to  gather  beneath  his  sway  the  broken  fragments  of  the  Celtic 
race.  Mysterious  prophecies,  the  prophecies  of  Merlin  the  Wise, 
floated  from  lip  to  lip,  to  nerve  Wales  to  its  last  struggle  with  the 
invaders.  Medrawd  and  Arthur  would  appear  once  more  on  earth  to 
fight  over  ag.iin  the  fatal  battle  of  Camlan.  The  last  conqueror  of  the 
Celtic  race,  Cadwallon,  still  lived  to  combat  for  his  people.  The  sup- 
posed verses  of  Taliesin  expressed  the  undying  hope  of  a  restoration 
of  the  Cymry.  "  In  their  hands  shall  be  all  the  land  from  Britanny  to 
Man  :  .  .  a  rumour  shall  arise  that  the  (Germans  are  moving  out  of 
Britain  back  again  to  their  fatherland  "  Gathered  up  in  the  strange 
work  of  (^cofl'ry  of  Monmouth,  these  predictions  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion, not  on  Wales  only,  but  on  its  conquerorr.  It  was  to  meet  indeed 
the  dreams  of  a  yet  living  Arthur  that  the  grave  of  the  legendary 


IV] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


167 


hero-king  at  Glastonbury  was  found  and  visited  by  Henry  the  Second. 
But  neither  trick  nor  conquest  could  shake  the  firm  faith  of  the  Celt 
in  the  ultimate  victory  of  his  race.  "  Think  you,"  said  Henry  to  a 
Welsh  chieftain  who  had  joined  his  host,  "  that  your  people  of  rebels 
can  withstand  my  army.?"  "My  people,"  replied  the  chieftain, 
"may  be  weakened  by  your  might,  and  even  in  great  part  destroyed, 
but  unless  the  wrath  of  God  be  on  the  side  of  its  foe  it  will  not  perish 
utterly.  Nor  deem  I  that  other  race  or  other  tongue  will  answer  for 
this  corner  of  the  world  before  the  Judge  of  all  at  the  last  day  save 
this  pejple  and  tongue  of  Wales."  So  ran  the  popular  rime,  "  Their 
Lord  they  will  praise,  their  speech  they  shall  keep,  their  land 
they  shall  lose — except  wild  Wales."  Faith  and  prophecy  seemed 
justified  by  the  growing  strength  of  the  British  people.  The  weak- 
ness and  dissensions  which  characterized  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Third 
enabled  Llewelyn  ap  Jorwerth  to  preserve  a  practical  independence 
till  the  close  of  his  life,  when  a  fresh  acknowledgement  of  the  English 
supremacy  was  wrested  from  him  by  Archbishop  Edmund.  But  the 
triumphs  of  his  arms  were  renewed  by  Llewelyn  the  son  of  Gruffydd, 
whose  ravages  swept  the  border  to  the  very  gates  of  Chester,  while 
his  conquest  of  Glamorgan  seemed  to  bind  the  whole  people  together 
in  a  power  strong  enough  to  meet  any  attack  from  the  stranger. 
Throughout  the  Barons'  war  Llewelyn  remained  master  of  Wales. 
Even  at  its  close  the  threat  of  an  attack  from  the  now  united 
kingdom^  only  forced  him  to  submission  on  a  practical  acknowledge- 
ment of  his  sovereignty.  The  chieftain  whom  the  English  kings  had 
till  then  scrupulously  designated  as  "  Prince  of  Aberfifraw,"  was  now 
allowed  the  title  of"  Prince  of  Wales,"  and  his  right  to  receive  homage 
from  the  other  nobles  of  his  principality  was  allowed. 

Near,  however,  as  Llewelyn  seemed  to  the  final  realization  of  his 
aims,  he  was  still  a  vassal  of  the  English  crown,  and  the  accession  of 
a  new  sovereign  to  the  throne  was  at  once  followed  by  the  demand 
of  his  homage.  The  youth  of  Edward  the  First  had  already  given 
promise  of  the  high  qualities  which  distinguished  him  as  an  English 
ruler.  The  passion  for  law,  the  instinct  of  good  government,  which 
were  to  make  his  reign  so  memorable  in  our  history,  had  declared 
themselves  from  the  first.  He  had  sided  with  the  barons  at  the  outset 
of  their  struggle  with  Henry  ;  he  had  striven  to  keep  his  father  true  to 
the  Provisions  of  Oxford.  It  was  only  when  the  Crown  seemed  falling 
into  bondage  that  Edward  passed  to  the  royal  side  ;  and  when  the 
danger  he  dreaded  was  over  he  returned  to  his  older  attitude.  In  the 
first  flush  of  victory,  while  the  doom  of  Simon  was  yet  unknown, 
Edward  stood  alone  in  desiring  his  captivity  against  the  cry  of  the 
Marcher  lords  for  his  death.  When  all  was  over  he  wept  over  the 
corpse  of  his  cousin,  Henry  de  Montfort,  and  followed  the  Earl's  body 
to  the  tomb.     It  was  from  Earl  Simon,  as  the  Earl  owned  with  a 


Sec.  I. 
The  Co?4- 

QUEST   OF 

Wales, 
1265 
1284 


Lfewefyn 
ap  Grtcffydd 
1246-128,' 


1267 


The 
Conque.sl: 
of  Waleb 


i68 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAr. 


proud  bitterness  ere  his  death,  that  Edward  had  learned  the  skill  in 
warfare  which  distinguished  him  among  the  princes  of  his  time.     But 
he  had  learned  the  far  nobler  lesson  of  a  self-government  which  lifted 
him  high  above  them  as  a  ruler  among  men.     Severing  himself  from 
the  brutal  triumph  of  the  royalist  party,  he  secured  fair  terms  to  the 
conquered,  and  after  crushing  the  last  traces  of  resistance,  he  won 
the  adoption  by  the  Crown  of  the  constitutional  system  of  government 
for  which  the  barons  had  fought.     So  utterly  was  the  land  at  rest  that 
he  felt  free  to  join  a  crusade  in  Palestine.     His  father's  death  recalled 
him  home  to  meet  at  once  the  difficulty  of  Wales.     During  two  years 
Llewelyn  rejected  the  King's  repeated  summons  to  him  to  perform  his 
homage,  till  Edward's  patience  was  exhausted,  and  the  royal  army 
marched  into  North  Wales.     The  fabric  of  Welsh  greatness  fell  at  a 
single  blow  ;  the  chieftains  of  the  south  and  centre  who  had  so  lately 
sworn  fealty  to  Llewelyn  deserted  him  to  join  his  English  enemies  ; 
an  English  fleet  reduced  Anglesea,  and  the  Prince,  cooped  up  in  his 
fastnesses,  was  forced  to  throw  himself  on  the  royal  mercy.     With 
characteristic  moderation  his  conqueror  contented  himself  with  adding 
to  the  English  dominions  the  coast-district  as  far  as  Conway,  and 
providing  that  the  title  of  Prince  of  Wales  should  cease  at  Llewelyn's 
death.     A  heavy  fine  which  he  had  incurred  was  remitted,  and  Eleanor 
the  daughter  of  Simon  of  Montfort,  who  had  been  arrested  on  her 
way  to  join  him  as  his  wife,  was  wedded  to  him  at  the  English  court. 
For  four  years  all  was  quiet,  but  the  persuasions  of  his  brother  David, 
who  had  deserted  him  in  the  previous  war,  and  whose  desertion  had 
been  rewarded  with  an  English  lordship,  roused  Llewelyn  to  a  fresh 
revolt.      A  prophecy  of  Merlin  had  announced  that  when  English 
money  became  round  the    Prince  of  Wales    should  be  crowned  at 
London  ;  and   a  new  coinage   of  copper   money,  coupled  with   the 
prohibition  to  break  the  silver  penny  into  halves  and  quarters,  as  had 
been  usual,  was  supposed  to  have  fulfilled  the  prediction.     In  the 
campaign  which  followed  the  Prince  held  out  in  Snowdon  with  the 
stubbornness  of  despair,  and  the  rout  of  an  English  detachment  which 
had  thrown  a  bridge  across  the  Menai    Straits   into  Anglesea   pro- 
longed the  contest  into  the  winter.      Terrible  however  as  were  the 
sufferings  of  the  English  army,  Edward's  firmness  remained  unbroken, 
and  rejecting  all  proposals  of  retreat  he  issued  orders  for  the  formation 
of  a  new  army  at  Caermarthen  to  complete  the  circle  of  investment 
round  Llewelyn.     The  Prince  sallied  from  his  mountain-hold  for  a 
raid  upon  Radnorshire,  and  fell  in  a  petty  skirmish  on  the  banks  of 
the  Wye.     With  him  died  the  independence  of  his  race.     After  six 
months  of  flight  his  brother  David  was  arrested  and  sentenced  in  full 
Parliament  to  a  traitor's  death.      The  submission  of  the  lesser  chief- 
tains was  followed  by  the  building  of  strong  castles  at  Conway  and 
Caernarvon,  and  the  settlement  of  English  barons  on  the  confiscated 


IV] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


169 


soil.  A  wiser  instinct  of  government  led  Edward  to  introduce  by  the 
"  Statute  of  Wales "  English  law  and  the  English  administration  of 
justice  into  Wales.  But  little  came  of  the  attempt ;  and  it  was  not  till 
the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  that  the  country  was  actually  incor- 
porated in  England.  What  Edward  had  really  done  was  to  break  the 
Welsh  resistance.  His  policy  of  justice  (for  the  "massacre  of  the 
bards"  is  a  mere  fable)  accomplished  its  end,  and  in  spite  of  two  later 
rebellions  Wales  ceased  to  be  any  serious  danger  to  England  for  a 
hundred  years. 

Section  II. -Tbe  Engrlish  Parliament,  1283—1295. 

[Aulhorities. — The  short  treatise  on  the  Constitution  of  Parliament  called 
"Modus  tenendi  Parliamenta  "  maybe  taken  as  a  fair  account  of  its  actual 
state  and  powers  in  the  fourteenth  century.  It  has  been  reprinted  by  Dr. 
Stubbs,  in  the  invaluable  collection  of  Documents  which  serves  as  the  base  of 
the  present  section.  Sir  Francis  Palgrave  has  illustrated  the  remedial  side 
of  our  parliamentary  institutions  with  much  vigour  and  picturesqueness  in  his 
**  History  of  the  English  Commonwealth,"  but  his  conclusions  are  often  hasty  and 
prejudiced.  On  all  constitutional  points  from  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First  we 
can  now  rely  on  the  judgment  and  research  of  Mr,  Hallam  ("  Middle  Ages  ").] 

[The  second  volume  of  Dr.  Stubbs's  **  Constitutional  History"  which  deals 
with  this  period  was  published  after  this  History  was  written  and  the  list  of 
authorities  prepared. — Ed.] 

The  conquest  of  Wales  marked  the  adoption  of  a  new  attitude  and 
policy  on  the  part  of  the  crown.  From  the  earliest  moment  of  his 
reign  Edward  the  First  definitely  abandoned  all  dreams  of  recovering 
the  foreign  dominions  which  his  grandfather  had  lost.  He  concen- 
trated himself  on  the  consolidation  and  good  government  of  England 
itself  We  can  only  fairly  judge  his  annexation  ofWales,  orhis  attempt 
to  annex  Scotland,  if  we  regard  them  as  parts  of  the  same  scheme  of 
national  administration  to  which  we  owe  his  final  establishment  of  our 
judicature,  our  legislation,  our  Parliament.  The  King's  English  policy, 
like  his  Enghsh  name,  was  the  sign  of  a  new  epoch.  The  long  period 
of  national  formation  had  come  practically  to  an  end.  With  the  reign 
of  Edward  begins  modern  England,  the  constitutional  England  in 
which  we  live.  It  is  not  that  any  chasm  separates  our  history  before 
it  from  our  history  after  it,  as  the  chasm  of  the  Revolution  divides  the 
history  of  France,  for  we  have  traced  the  rudiments  of  our  constitution 
to  the  first  moment  of  the  English  settlement  in  Britain.  But  it  is  with 
these  as  with  our  language.  The  tongue  of  Alfred  is  the  very  tongue 
we  speak,  but  in  spite  of  its  identity  with  modern  English  it  has  to  be 
learned  like  the  tongue  of  a  stranger.  On  the  other  hand,  the  English 
of  Chaucer  is  almost  as  intelligible  as  our  own.  In  the  first  the 
historian  and  philologer  can  study  the  origin  and  developement  of  our 
national  speech,  in  the  last  a  school-boy  can  enjoy  the  story  of  Troilus 
and  Cressida,  or  listen  to  the  gay  chat  of  the  Canterbury  Pilgrims.     In 

G* 


170 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


precisely  the  same  way  a  knowledge  of  our  earliest  laws  is  indispensable 
for  the  right  understanding  of  later  legislation,  its  origin  and  its 
developement,  while  the  principles  of  our  Parliamentary  system  must 
necessarily  be  studied  in  the  Meetings  of  Wise  Men  before  the  Con- 
quest or  the  Great  Council  of  barons  after  it.  But  the  Parliaments 
which  Edward  gathered  at  the  close  of  his  reign  are  not  merely  illus- 
trative of  the  history  of  later  Parliaments,  they  are  absolutely  identical 
with  those  which  still  sit  at  St.  Stephen's ;  and  a  statute  of  Edward,  if 
unrepealed,  can  be  pleaded  in  our  courts  as  formally  as  a  statute  of 
Victoria.  In  a  word,  the  long  struggle  of  the  constitution  for  actual 
existence  has  come  to  an  end.  The  contests  which  follow  are  not  con- 
tests which  tell,  like  those  which  preceded  them,  on  the  actual  fabric 
of  our  political  institutions  ;  they  are  simply  stages  in  the  rough  dis 
cipline  by  which  England  has  learned,  and  is  still  learning,  how  best  to 
use  and  how  wisely  to  develope  the  latent  powers  of  its  national  life,  how 
to  adjust  the  balance  of  its  social  and  political  forces,  and  to  adapt  its 
constitutional  forms  to  the  varying  conditions  of  the  time.  From  the 
reign  of  Edward,  in  fact,  we  are  face  to  face  with  modern  England. 
King,  Lords,  Commons,  the  Courts  of  Justice,  the  forms  of  public 
administration,  our  local  divisions  and  provincial  jurisdictions,  the 
relations  of  Church  and  State,  in  great  measure  the  framework  of 
society  itself,  have  all  taken  the  shape  which  they  still  essentially 
retain. 

Much  of  this  great  change  is  doubtless  attributable  to  the  generai 
temper  of  the  age,  whose  special  task  and  object  seemed  to  be  thai 
of  reducing  to  distinct  form  the  great  principles  which  had  sprung  into 
a  new  and  vigorous  life  during  the  century  that  preceded  it.  As  the 
opening  of  the  thirteenth  century  had  been  an  age  of  founders,  creators, 
discoverers,  so  its  close  was  an  age  of  lawyers  ;  the  most  illustrious 
men  of  the  time  were  no  longer  such  as  Bacon,  or  Earl  Simon,  or 
Francis  of  Assisi,  but  men  such  as  St.  Lewis  of  France  or  Alfonso  the 
Wise,  organizers,  administrators,  framers  of  laws  and  institutions.  It 
was  to  this  class  that  Edward  himself  belonged.  He  had  little  of 
creative  genius  or  political  originality  in  his  character,  but  he  possessed 
in  a  high  degree  the  faculty  of  organization,  and  his  passionate  love  of 
law  broke  out  even  in  the  legal  chicanery  to  which  he  sometimes 
stooped.  In  the  judicial  reforms  to  which  so  much  of  his  attention 
was  directed,  he  showed  himself,  if  not  an  "  English  Justinian,"  at  any 
rate  a  clear  sighted  man  of  business,  developing,  reforming,  bringing 
into  a  lasting  shape  the  institutions  of  his  predecessors.  One  of  his 
first  cares  was  to  complete  the  judicial  reforms  begun  by  Henry  II. 
The  most  important  court  of  civil  jurisdiction,  the  SheriflTs  or  County 
Court,  remained  unchanged,  both  in  the  extent  of  its  jurisdiction,  and 
the  character  of  the  Sheriff  as  a  royal  officer.  But  the  superior  courts 
into  which  the  King's  Court  had  since  the  Great  Charter  divided  itself, 


IV  i 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


171 


those  of  the  King's  Hench,  Exchequer,  and  Common  Pleas,  now 
received  a  distinct  staff  of  judges  for  each  court.  Of  far  greater 
importance  than  this  change,  which  was  in  effect  but  the  completion 
of  a  process  of  severance  that  had  long  been  going  on,  was  the  estab- 
lishment of  an  equitable  jurisdiction  side  by  side  with  that  of  the 
common  law.  In  his  reform  of  1 178  Henry  the  Second  had  broken  up 
the  older  King's  Court,  which  had  till  then  served  as  the  final  Court 
of  Appeal,  by  the  severance  of  the  purely  legal  judges  who  had  been 
gradually  added  to  it  from  the  general  body  of  his  councillors.  The 
judges  thus  severed  from  the  Council  retained  the  name  and  the 
ordinary  jurisdiction  of  "  the  King's  Court,"  while  all  cases  in  which 
they  failed  to  do  justice  were  reserved  for  the  special  cognizance  of 
the  royal  Council  itself.  To  this  final  jurisdiction  of  the  King  in 
Council  Edward  gave  a  wide  developement.  His  assembly  of  the 
ministers,  the  higher  permanent  officials,  and  the  law  officers  of  the 
Crown,  for  the  first  time  reserved  to  itself  in  its  judicial  capacity  the 
correction  of  all  breaches  of  the  law  which  the  lower  courts  had  failed 
to  repress,  whether  from  weakness,  partiality,  or  corruption,  and 
especially  of  those  lawless  outbreaks  of  the  more  powerful  baronage 
which  defied  the  common  authority  of  the  judges.  Though  regarded 
with  jealousy  by  Parliament,  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Council  seems  to 
have  been  steadily  put  in  force  through  the  two  centuries  which 
followed  ;  in  the  reignof  Henry  the  Seventh  it  took  legal  and  statutory 
form  in  the  shape  of  the  Court  of  Star  Chamber,  and  its  powers  are 
still  exercised  in  our  own  day  by  the  Judicial  Committee  of  the  Privy 
Council.  But  the  same  duty  of  the  Crown  to  do  justice  where  its 
courts  fell  short  of  giving  due  redress  for  wrong  expressed  itself  in  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  Chancellor.  This  great  officer  of  State,  who  had 
perhaps  originally  acted  only  as  President  of  the  Council  when  dis- 
charging its  judicial  functions,  acquired  at  a  very  early  date  an 
independent  judicial  position  of  the  same  nature.  It  is  by  remember- 
ing the  origin  of  the  Court  of  Chancery  that  we  understand  the  nature 
of  the  powers  it  gradually  acquired.  All  grievances  of  the  subject, 
especially  those  which  sprang  from  the  misconduct  of  government 
officials  or  of  powerful  oppressors,  fell  within  its  cognizance,  as  they 
fell  within  that  of  the  Royal  Council,  and  to  these  were  added  disputes 
respecting  the  wardship  of  infants,  dower,  rent-charges,  or  tithes.  Its 
equitable  jurisdiction  sprang  from  the  defective  nature  and  the  technical 
and  unbending  rules  of  the  common  law.  As  the  Council  had  given 
redress  in  cases  where  law  became  injustice,  so  the  Court  of  Chancery 
interfered  without  regard  to  the  rules  of  procedure  adopted  by  the 
common  law  courts,  on  the  petition  of  a  party  for  whose  grievance  the 
common  law  provided  no  adequate  remedy.  An  analogous  extension 
of  his  powers  enabled  the  Chancellor  to  afford  relief  in  cases  of  fraud, 
accident,  or  abuse  of  trust,  and  this  side  of  his  jurisdiction  was  largely 


Sec  II. 

The 
English 
Parlia- 
ment 

1283 

TO 

1295 


The  Kitig 
in  Council 


The  Court 
of  Chantey 


m 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


Sec.  II. 

The 
English 
Parlia- 
ment 

lasa 

TO 

1295 

EdT^ard'a 

lesrlsla- 

tion 


1279 


1283 


1285 


JuttUes  I'/ 

the  Peace 

1285 


extended  at  a  later  time  through  the  results  of  legislation  on  the  tenure 
of  land  by  ecclesiastical  bodies.  The  separate  powers  of  the  Chan- 
cellor, whatever  was  the  original  date  at  which  they  were  first 
exercised,  seem  to  have  been  thoroughly  established  under  Edward 
the  First. 

In  legislation,  as  in  his  judicial  reforms,  Edward  renewed  and  con- 
solidated the  principles  which  had  been  already  brought  into  practical 
working  by  Henry  the  Second.  Significant  acts  announced  his  deter- 
mination to  carry  out  Henry's  policy  of  limiting  the  independent 
jurisdiction  of  the  Church.  He  was  resolute  to  force  it  to  become 
thoroughly  national  by  bearing  its  due  part  of  the  common  national 
burthens,  and  to  break  its  growing  dependence  upon  Rome.  The 
defiant  resistance  of  the  ecclesiastical  body  was  answered  in  an 
emphatic  way.  By  falling  into  the  "  dead  hand  "  or  "  mortmain  "  of  the 
Church  land  ceased  to  render  its  feudal  services  ;  and  the  Statute  "  of 
Mortmain"  nowforbade  the  alienation  of  land  to  religious  bodies  in  such 
wise  that  it  should  cease  to  render  its  due  service  to  the  King.  The 
restriction  was  probably  no  beneficial  one  to  the  country  at  large,  for 
Churchmen  were  the  best  landlords,  and  it  was  soon  evaded  by  the 
ingenuity  of  the  clerical  lawyers  ;  but  it  marked  the  growing  jealousy 
of  any  attempt  to  set  aside  what  was  national  from  serving  the  general 
need  and  profit  of  the  nation.  Its  immediate  effect  was  to  stir  the 
clergy  to  a  bitter  resentment.  But  Edward  remained  firm,  and  when 
the  bishops  proposed  to  restrict  the  royal  courts  from  dealing  with  cases 
of  patronage  or  causes  which  touched  the  chattels  of  Churchmen  he  met 
their  proposals  by  an  instant  prohibition.  His  care  for  the  trading 
classes  was  seen  in  the  Statute  of  Merchants,  which  provided  for  the 
registration  of  the  debts  of  traders,  and  for  their  recovery  by  distraint 
of  the  debtor's  goods  and  the  imprisonment  of  his  person.  The 
Statute  of  Winchester,  the  greatest  of  Edward's  measures  for  the 
enforcement  of  public  order,  revived  an  1  reorganized  the  old  institu- 
tions of  national  police  and  national  defence.  It  regulated  the  action 
of  the  hundred,  the  duty  of  watch  and  ward,  and  the  gathering  of  the 
fyrd  or  militia  of  the  realm  as  Henry  the  Second  had  moulded  it  into 
form  in  his  Assize  of  Arms.  Every  man  was  bound  to  hold  himself-' 
in  readiness,  duly  armed,  for  the  King's  service  in  case  of  invasion  or 
revolt,  or  to  pursue  felons  when  hue  and  cry  were  raised  after  them. 
Every  district  was  made  responsible  for  crimes  committed  within  its 
bounds  ;  the  gates  of  each  town  were  required  to  be  closed  at  night- 
fall, and  all  strangers  to  give  an  account  of  themselves  to  its  magi- 
strates. As  a  security  for  travellers  against  sudden  attacks  from  robbers, 
all  brushwood  was  to  be  destroyed  for  a  space  of  two  hundred  feet  on 
either  side  the  public  highway,  a  provision  which  illustrates  at  once 
the  social  and  physical  condition  of  the  country  at  the  time.  To 
enforce  the  observance  of  this  act  knights  were  appointed  in  every  shire 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


73 


under  the  name  of  Conservators  of  the  Peace,  a  name  which,  as  the 
convenience  of  these  local  magistrates  was  more  sensibly  felt  and 
their  powers  more  largely  extended,  was  changed  for  that  which  they 
still  retain  of  "  Justices  of  the  Peace."  The  great  measure  which  is 
commonly  known  as  the  Statute  "  Quia  Emptores  "  is  one  of  those 
legislative  efforts  which  mark  the  progress  of  a  wide  social  revolution 
in  the  country  at  large.  The  number  of  the  greater  barons  was 
diminishing  every  day,  while  the  number  of  the  country  gentry  and 
of  the  more  substantial  yeomanry  was  increasing  with  the  increase  of 
the  national  wealth.  This  increase  showed  itself  in  the  growing 
desire  to  become  proprietors  of  land.  Tenants  of  the  greater  barons 
received  under-tenants  on  condition  of  their  rendering  them  similar 
services  to  those  which  they  themselves  rendered  to  their  lords ;  and 
the  baronage,  while  duly  receiving  the  services  in  compensation  for 
which  they  had  originally  granted  their  lands  in  fee,  saw  with  jealousy 
the  feudal  profits  of  these  new  under-tenants,  the  profits  of  wardship 
or  of  reliefs  and  the  like,  in  a  word  the  whole  increase  in  the  value  of 
the  estate  consequent  on  its  subdivision  and  higher  cultivation, 
passing  into  other  hands  than  their  own.  The  purpose  of  the  statute 
was  to  check  this  process  by  providing  that  in  any  case  of  alienation 
the  sub-tenant  should  henceforth  hold,  not  of  the  tenant,  but  directly 
of  the  superior  lord  But  its  result  was  to  promote  instead  of  hinder- 
ing the  transfer  and  subdivision  of  land.  The  tenant  who  was  before 
compelled  to  retain  in  any  case  so  much  of  the  estate  as  enabled  him 
to  discharge  his  feudal  services  to  the  over-lord  of  whom  he  held  it, 
was  now  enabled  by  a  process  analogous  to  the  modern  sale  of 
"tenant-right,"  to  transfer  both  land  and  services  to  new  holders. 
However  small  the  estates  thus  created  might  be,  the  bulk  were  held 
directly  of  the  Crown  ;  and  this  class  of  lesser  gentry  and  freeholders 
grew  steadily  from  this  time  in  numbers  and  importance. 

It  is  to  the  same  social  revolution  as  well  as  to  the  large  statesman- 
ship of  Edward  thi  First  that  we  owe  our  Parliament.  Neither  the 
Meriting  of  the  Wise  Men  before  the  Conquest,  nor  the  Great  Council 
of  the  Barons  after  it,  had  been  in  any  way  representative  bodies. 
The  first  theoretically  included  all  free  holders  of  land,  but  it  shrank 
at  an  early  time  into  a  gathering  of  earls,  higher  nobles,  and  bishops, 
with  the  officers  and  thegns  of  the  royal  household.  Little  change 
was  made  in  the  composition  of  this  assembly  by  the  Conquest,  for  the 
Great  Council  of  the  Norman  kings  was  held  to  include  all  tenants 
who  held  directly  of  the  Crown,  the  bishops  and  greater  abbots  (whose 
character  as  independent  spiritual  members  tended  more  and  more  to 
merge  in  their  position  as  barons),  and  the  great  officers  of  the  Court. 
But  though  its  composition  remained  the  same,  the  character  of  the 
assembly  was  essentially  altered.  From  a  free  gathering  of  "  Wise 
Men  "  it  sank  to  a  Royal  Court  of  feudal  vassals.     Its  functions  seem 


174 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fciiAr 


to  have  become  almost  nominal,  and  its  powers  to  have  been  restricted 
to  the  sanctioning,  without  debate  or  possibility  of  refusal,  all  grants 
demanded  from  it  by  the  Crown.     Its  "counsel  and  consent,"  how- 
ever, remained  necessary  for  the  legal  validity  of  every  great  fiscal  or 
political  measure,  and  its  very  existence  was  an  effectual  protest  against 
the  imperial  theories  advanced  '  v  the  lawyers  of  Henry  the  Second, 
theories  which  declared  all  legislative  power  to  reside  wholly  in  the 
sovereign.     It  was  in  fact  under  Henry  that  these  assemblies  became 
more  regular,  and  their  functions  more  important.     The  reforms  which 
marked  his  reign  were  issued  in  the  Great  Council,  and  even  financial 
matters  were  suffered  to  be  debated  there.     But  it  was  not  till  the 
grant  of  the  Great  Charter  that  its  powers  over  taxation  were  formally 
recognized,  and  the  principle  established  that  no  burthen  beyond  the 
customary  feudal   aids   might  be   imposed   "  save  by  the  Common 
Council  of  the  Realm."    The   same  great   document  first  expressly 
regulated  its  form.     In  theory,  as  we  have  seen,  the  assembly  con- 
sisted of  all    who  held  land  directly  of  the  Crown.      But  the  same 
causes  which  restricted  attendance  at  the  Witenagemot  to  the  greater 
nobles   told   on   the   actual   composition   of  the  Council  of  Barons. 
While  the  attendance  of  the  ordinary  tenants  in  chief,  the  Knights  or 
"  Lesser  Barons,"  was  burthensome  from  its  expense  to  themselves, 
their  numbers  and  their  dependence  on  the  higher  nobles  made  their 
assembly  dangerous  to  the  Crown.     As  early,  therefore,  as  the  time  of 
Henry  the  First  we  find  a  distinction  recognized  between  the  "  Greater 
liarons,"  of  whom  the  Council  was  usually  composed,  and  the  "  Lesser 
Barons "  who  formed  the  bulk  of  the  tenants   of  the   Crown.     But 
though  the  attendance  of  the  latter  had  become  rare,  their  right  of 
attendance  remained  intact.     While  enacting  that  the  prelates  and 
greater  barons  should  be  summoned  by  special  writs  to  each  gathering 
of  the  Council,  a  remarkable  provision  of  the  Great  Charter  orders  a 
general  summons  to  be  issued  through  the  Sheriff  to  all  direct  tenants 
of  the  Crown.     The  provision  was  probably  intended  to  rouse   the^ 
lesser  baronage  to  the  exercise  of  rights  which  had  practically  passed 
into  desuetude,  but  as  the  clause  is  omitted  in  later  issues  of  the 
Charter  we  may  doubt  whether  the  principle  it  embodied  ever  received 
more   than   a  very   limited   application.      There   are  traces  of   the 
attendance  of  a  few  of  the  lesser  knighthood,  gentry  perhaps  of  the 
neighbourhood  where  the  assembly  was  held,  in  some  of  its  meetings 
under   Henry   the  Third,  but  till  a  late  period  in  the  reign  of  his 
successor  the  Great  Council  practically  remained  a  gathering  of  the 
greater  barons,  the  prelates,  and   the   officers   of  the   Crown.     The 
change  which  the  Great  Charter  had  failed  to  accomplish  was  now, 
however,  brought  about  by  the  social  circumstances  of  the  time.    One 
of  the  most  remarkable  of  these  was  the  steady  decrease  in  the  number 
of  the  greater  nobles.     The  bulk  of  the  earldoms  had  already  lapsed 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS 


t?"; 


to  the  Crown  through  the  extinction  of  the  families  of  their  possessors  ; 
of  the  greater  baronies,  many  had  practically  ceased  to  exist  by  their 
division  among  co-heiresses,  many  through  the  constant  struggle  of 
the  poorer  barons  to  rid  themselves  of  their  rank  by  a  disclaimer,  so 
as  to  escape  the  burthen  of  higher  taxation  and  attendance  in  Parlia- 
ment which  it  involved.  How  far  this  diminution  had  gone  we  may 
see  from  the  fact  that  hardly  more  than  a  hundred  barons  sat  in  the 
earlier  Councils  of  Edward's  reign.  But  while  the  number  of  those 
.vho  actually  possessed  the  privilege  of  assisting  in  Parliament  was 
rapidly  diminishing,  the  numbers  and  wealth  of  the  "  lesser  baronage," 
whose  right  of  attendance  had  become  a  mere  constitutional  tradition, 
was  as  rapidly  increasing.  The  long  peace  and  prosperity  of  the 
realm,  the  extension  of  its  commerce,  and  the  increased  export  of 
wool,  were  swelling  the  ranks  and  incomes  of  the  country  gentry  as 
well  as  of  the  freeholders  and  substantial  yeomanry.  We  have  already 
noticed  the  growing  passion  for  the  possession  of  land  which  makes 
this  reign  so  critical  a  moment  in  thehistory  of  the  English  freeholder  ; 
but  the  same  tendency  had  to  some  extent  existed  in  the  preceding 
century,  and  it  was  a  consciousness  of  the  growing  importance  of  this 
class  of  rural  proprietors  which  induced  the  barons  at  the  time  of  the 
Charter  to  make  their  fruitless  attempt  to  induce  them  to  take  part  in 
the  deliberations  of  the  Great  Council.  But  while  the  barons  desired 
their  presence  as  an  aid  against  the  Crown,  the  Crown  itself  desired 
it  as  a  means  of  rendering  taxation  more  efficient.  So  long  as  the 
Great  Council  remained  a  mere  assembly  of  magnates  it  was  necessary 
for  the  King's  ministers  to  treat  separately  with  the  other  orders  of  the 
state  as  to  the  amount  and  assessment  of  their  contributions.  The 
grant  made  in  the  Great  Council  was  binding  only  on  the  barons  and 
prelates  who  made  it ;  but  before  the  aids  of  the  boroughs,  the  Church, 
or  the  shires  could  reach  the  royal  treasury,  a  separate  negotiation 
had  to  be  conducted  by  the  officers  of  the  Exchequer  with  the  reeves 
of  each  town,  the  sheriff  and  shire-court  of  each  county,  and  the  arch- 
deacons of  each  diocese.  Bargains  of  this  sort  would  be  the  more 
tedious  and  disappointing  as  the  necessities  of  the  Crown  increased 
in  the  later  years  of  Edward,  and  it  became  a  matter  of  fiscal  expediency 
to  obtain  the  sanction  of  any  proposed  taxation  through  the  presence 
of  these  classes  in  the  Great  Council  itself 

The  effort,  however,  to  revive  the  old  personal  attendance  of  the 
lesser  baronage,  which  had  bro'  en  down  half  a  century  before,  could 
hardly  be  renewed  at  a  time  when  the  increase  of  their  numbers  made 
it  more  impracticable  than  ever  ;  but  a  means  of  escape  from  this 
difficulty  was  fortunately  suggested  by  the  very  nature  of  the  court 
through  which  alone  a  summons  could  be  addressed  to  the  landed 
knighthood.  Amidst  the  many  judicial  reforms  of  Henry  or  Edward 
the  Shire  Court  remained  unchanged.     The  haunted  mound  or  the 


176 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


immemorial  oak  round  which  the  assembly  gathered  (for  the  court  was 
often  held  in  the  open  air)  were  the  relics  of  a  time  before  the  free 
kingdom  had  sunk  into  a  shire,  and  its  folk-moot  into  a  County 
Court.  But  save  that  the  King's  reeve  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
King,  and  that  the  Norman  legislation  had  displaced  the  Bishop  and 
set  four  Coroners  by  the  Sheriff's  side,  the  gathering  of  the  free- 
holders remained  much  as  of  old.  The  local  knighthood,  the 
yeomanry,  the  husbandmen  of  the  county,  were  all  represented  in 
the  crowd  that  gathered  round  the  Sheriff,  as,  guarded  by  his  liveried 
followers,  he  published  the  King's  writs,  announced  his  demand  of  aids, 
received  the  presentment  of  criminals  and  the  inquest  of  the  local 
jurors,  assessed  the  taxation  of  each  district,  or  listened  solemnly  to 
appeals  for  justice,  civil  and  criminal,  from  all  who  held  themselves 
oppressed  in  the  lesser  courts  of  the  hundred  or  the  soke.  It  was  in 
the  County  Court  alone  that  the  Sheriff  could  legally  summon  the 
lesser  baronage  to  attend  the  Great  Council,  and  it  was  in  the  actual 
constitution  of  this  assembly  that  the  Crown  found  a  solution  of  the 
difficulty  which  we  have  already  stated.  For  the  principle  of  repre- 
sentation by  which  it  was  finally  solved  was  coeval  with  the  Shire 
Court  itself.  In  all  cases  of  civil  or  criminal  justice  the  twelve  sworn 
assessors  of  the  Sheriff,  as  members  of  a  class,  though  not  formally 
deputed  for  that  purpose,  practically  represented  the  judicial  opinion 
of  the  county  at  large.  From  every  hundred  came  groups  of  twelve 
sworn  deputies,  the  "jurors,"  through  whom  the  presentments  of  the 
district  were  made  to  the  royal  officer,  and  with  whom  the  assess- 
ment of  its  share  in  the  general  taxation  was  arranged.  The  husband- 
men on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  clad  in  the  brown  smock  frock 
which  still  lingers  in  the  garb  of  our  carters  and  ploughmen,  were 
broken  up  into  little  knots  of  five,  a  reeve  and  four  assistants,  who 
formed  the  representatives  of  the  rural  townships.  If,  in  fact,  we 
regard  the  Shire  Courts  as  lineally  the  descendants  of  our  earliest 
English  folk-moots,  we  may  justly  claim  the  principle  of  parliamentary 
representation  as  among  the  oldest  of  our  institutions.  But  it  was  only 
slowly  and  tentatively  that  this  principle  was  applied  to  the  recon- 
stitution  of  the  Great  Council.  As  early  as  the  close  of  John's  reign 
there  are  indications  of  the  approaching  change  in  the  summons  of 
"  four  discreet  knights "  from  every  county.  Fresh  need  of  local 
support  was  felt  by  both  parties  in  the  conflict  of  the  succeeding  reign, 
and  Henry  and  his  barons  alike  summoned  knights  from  each  shire 
"  to  meet  on  the  common  business  of  the  realm."  It  was  no  doubt 
with  the  same  purpose  that  the  writs  of  Earl  Simon  ordered  the 
choice  of  knights  in  each  shire  for  his  famous  parliament  of  1265. 
Something  like  a  continuous  attendance  may  be  dated  from  the 
•accession  of  Edward,  but  it  was  long  before  the  knights  were  regarded 
as  more  than  local  deputies  for  the  assessment  of  taxation,  or  admitted 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


177 


to  a  share  in  the  general  business  of  the  Great  Council.  The  statute 
"  Quia  Emptores,"  for  instance,  was  passed  in  it  before  the  knights 
who  had  been  summoned  could  attend.  Their  participation  in  the 
deliberative  power  of  Parliament,  as  well  as  their  regular  and  con- 
tinuous attendance,  dates  only  from  the  Parliament  of  1295.  But  a 
far  greater  constitutional  change  in  their  position  had  already  taken 
place  through  the  extension  of  electoral  rights  to  the  freeholders  at 
large.  The  one  class  entitled  to  a  seat  in  the  Great  Council  was,  as 
we  have  seen,  that  of  the  lesser  baronage  ;  and  of  the  lesser  baronage 
alone  the  knights  were  in  theory  the  representatives.  But  the  neces- 
sity of  holding  their  election  in  the  County  Court  rendered  any 
restriction  of  the  electoral  body  physically  impossible.  The  court 
was  composed  of  the  whole  body  of  freeholders,  and  no  sheriff  could 
distinguish  the  "  aye,  aye  "  of  the  yeoman  from  the  "  aye,  aye  "  of  the 
lesser  baron.  From  the  first  moment  therefore  of  their  attendance 
we  find  the  knights  regarded  not  as  mere  representatives  of  the 
baronage,  but  as  knights  of  the  shire,  and  by  this  silent  revolution  the 
whole  body  of  the  rural  freeholders  were  admitted  to  a  share  in  the 
government  of  the  realm. 

The  financial  difficulties  of  the  Crown  led  to  a  far  more  radical 
revolution  in  the  admission  into  the  Great  Council  of  representatives 
from  the  boroughs.  The  presence  of  knights  from  each  shire  was,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  recognition  of  an  older  right,  but  no  right  of  attendance 
or  share  in  the  national  "  counsel  and  consent "  could  be  pleaded  for 
the  burgesses  of  the  towns.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rapid  developement 
of  their  wealth  made  them  every  day  more  important  as  elements  in 
the  national  taxation.  The  towns  had  long  since  freed  themselves 
from  all  payment  of  the  dues  or  fines  exacted  by  the  King,  as  the 
original  I'^rd  of  the  soil  on  which  they  had  in  most  cases  grown 
up,  by  what  was  called  the  purchase  of  the  "  farm  of  the  borough  "  ;  in 
other  words,  by  the  commutation  of  these  uncertain  dues  for  a  fixed 
sum  paid  annually  to  the  Crown,  and  apportioned  by  their  own 
magistrates  among  the  general  body  of  the  burghers.  All  that  the 
King  legally  retained  was  the  right  enjoyed  by  every  great  proprietor  of 
levying  a  corresponding  taxation  on  his  tenants  in  demesne  under  the 
name  of  "  a  free  aid,"  whenever  a  grant  was  made  for  the  national 
necessities  by  the  barons  of  the  Great  Council.  But  the  temptation  of 
appropriating  the  growing  wealth  of  the  mercantile  class  proved  stronger 
than  legal  restrictions,  and  we  find  both  Henry  the  Third  and  his  son 
assuming  a  right  of  imposing  taxes  at  pleasure  and  without  any  autho- 
rity from  the  Council  even  over  London  itself.  The  burgesses  could 
refuse  indeed  the  invitation  to  contribute  to  the  "free  aid"  demanded 
by  the  royal  officers,  but  the  suspension  of  their  markets  or  trading 
privileges  brought  them  in  the  end  to  submission.  Each  of  these  "  free 
ai  Is,"  however,  had  to  be  extorted  after  a  long  wrangle  between  the 


Sec.  II. 

The 
English 
Parlia- 
ment 

1283 

T> 

1295 


Repre- 
sentation 

of 
Boroughs 


17« 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


borough  and  the  officers  of  the  Exchequer  ;  and  if  the  towns  were 
driven  to  comply  with  what  they  considered  an  extortion,  they  could 
generally  force  the  Crown  by  evasions  and  delays  to  a  compromise  and 
abatement  of  its  original  demands.  The  same  ^nancial  reasons,  there- 
fore, existed  for  desiring  the  presence  of  their  representatives  in  the 
Great  Council  as  existed  in  the  case  of  the  shires;  but  it  was  the  genius  of 
Earl  Simon  which  first  brokethrough  the  older  constitutional  tradition, 
and  dared  to  summon  two  burgesses  from  each  town  to  the  Parliament  of 
1 265.  Time  had,  indeed,  to  pass  before  the  large  and  statesmanlike  con- 
ception of  the  great  patriot  could  meet  with  full  acceptance.^  Through 
the  earlier  part  of  Edward's  reign  we  find  a  few  instances  of  the  presence 
of  representatives  from  the  towns,  but  their  scanty  numbers  and  the 
irregularity  of  their  attendance  show  that  they  were  summoned  rather 
to  afford  financial  information  to  the  Great  Council  than  as  repre- 
sentatives in  it  of  an  Estate  of  the  Realm.  But  every  year  pleaded 
stronger  and  stronger  for  their  inclusion,  and  in  the  Parliament  of  1 295 
that  of  1265  found  itself  at  last  reproduced.  "  It  was  from  me  that  he 
learnt  it,"  Earl  Simon  had  cried,  as  he  recognized  the  military  skill 
of  Edward's  onset  at  Evesham  ;  "It  was  from  me  that  he  learnt  it," 
his  spirit  might  have  exclaimed,  as  he  saw  the  King  gathering  at  last 
two  burgesses  "  from  every  city,  borough,  and  leading  town  "  within 
his  realm  to  sit  side  by  side  with  the  knights,  nobles,  and  barons  of 
the  Great  Council.  To  the  Crown  the  change  was  from  the  first  an 
advantageous  one.  The  grants  of  subsidies  by  the  burgesses  in 
Parliament  proved  more  profitable  than  the  previous  extortions  of  the 
Exchequer.  The  proportion  of  their  grant  generally  exceeded  that  of 
the  other  estates  by  a  tenth.  Their  representatives  too  proved  far  more 
compliant  with  the  royal  will  than  the  barons  or  knights  of  the  shire  ; 
only  on  one  occasion  during  Edward's  reign  did  the  burgesses  waver 
from  their  general  support  of  the  Crown.  It  was  easy  indeed  to  con- 
trol them,  for  the  selection  of  boroughs  to  be  represented  remained 
wholly  in  the  King's  hands,  and  their  numbers  could  be  increased  or 
diminished  at  the  King's  pleasure.  The  determination  was  left  to  the 
sheriff,  and  at  a  hint  from  the  royal  Council  a  sheriff  of  Wilts  would  cut 
down  the  number  of  represented  boroughs  in  his  shire  from  eleven  to 
three,  or  a  sheriff  of  Bucks  declare  he  could  find  but  a  single  borough, 
that  of  Wycomb,  within  the  bounds  of  the  county.  Nor  was  this 
exercise  of  the  prerogative  hampered  by  any  anxiety  on  the  part  of 
the  towns  to  claim  representative  privileges.  It  was  difficult  to  suspect 
that  a  power  before  which  the  Crown  would  have  to  bow  lay  in  the 
ranks  of  soberly  clad  traders,  summoned  only  to  assess  the  contri- 
butions of  their  boroughs,  and  whose  attendance  was  as  difficult  to 
secure  as  it  seemed  burthensome  to  themselves  and  the  towns  wiio 
sent  them.  The  mass  of  citizens  took  little  or  no  part  in  their  choice, 
for  they  were  elected  in  the  county  court  by  a  few  of  the  principal 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


179 


burghers  deputed  for  the  purpose  ;  but  the  cost  of  their  maintenance, 
the  two  shillings  a  day  paid  to  the  burgess  by  his  town,  as  four  were 
paid  to  the  knight  by  his  county,  was  a  burthen  from  which  the 
boroughs  made  desperate  efforts  to  escape.  Some  persisted  in  making 
no  return  to  the  sheriff.  Some  bought  charters  of  exemption  from  the 
troublesome  privilege.  Of  the  165  who  were  summoned  by  Edward 
the  First  more  than  a  third  ceased  to  send  representatives  after 
a  single  compliance  with  the  royal  summons.  During  the  whole 
time  from  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third  to  the  reign  of  Henry 
the  Sixth  the  sheriff  of  Lancashire  declined  to  return  the  names  of 
any  boroughs  at  all  within  that  county,  '"  on  account  of  their  poverty." 
Nor  were  the  representatives  themselves  more  anxious  to  appear  than 
their  boroughs  to  send  them.  The  busy  country  squire  and  the  thrifty 
trader  were  equally  reluctant  to  uuJergo  the  trouble  and  expense  of  a 
journey  to  Westminster.  Legal  measures  were  often  necessary  to 
ensure  their  presence.  Writs  still  exist  in  abundance  such  as  that  by 
which  Walter  le  Rous  is  "  held  to  bail  in  eight  oxen  and  four  cart- 
horses to  come  before  the  King  on  the  day  specified  "  for  attendance 
in  Parliament.  But  in  spite  of  obstacles  such  as  these  the  presence  of 
representatives  from  the  boroughs  maybe  regarded  as  continuous  from 
the  Parliament  of  1295.  As  the  representation  of  the  lesser  barons  had 
widened  through  a  silent  change  into  that  of  the  shire,  so  that  of  the 
boroughs — restricted  in  theory  to  those  in  royal  demesne — seems 
practically  from  Edward's  time  to  have  been  extended  to  all  who  were 
in  a  condition  to  pay  the  cost  of  their  representatives'  support.  By 
a  change  as  silent  within  the  Parliament  itself  the  burgess,  originally 
summoned  to  take  part  only  in  matters  of  taxation,  was  at  last 
admitted  to  a  full  share  in  the  deliberations  and  authority  of  the  other 
orders  of  the  State. 

The  admission  of  the  burgesses  and  knights  of  the  shire  to  the 
assembly  of  1295  completed  the  fabric  of  our  representative  constitu- 
tion. The  Great  Council  of  the  Barons  had  become  the  Parliament 
of  the  Realm,  a  parliament  in  which  every  order  of  the  state  found 
itself  represented,  and  took  part  in  the  grant  of  supplies,  the  work  of 
legislation,  and  in  the  end  the  control  of  government.  But  though  in 
all  essential  points  the  character  of  Parliament  has  remained  the  same 
from  that  time  to  this,  there  were  some  remarkable  particulars  in  which 
this  assembly  of  1295  differed  widely  from  the  present  ParUament  at 
St.  Stephen's.  Some  of  these  differences,  such  as  those  which  sprang 
from  the  increased  powers  and  changed  relations  of  the  different 
orders  among  themselves,  we  shall  have  occasion  to  consider  at  a 
later  time.  But  a  difference  of  a  far  more  startling  kind  than  these 
lay  in  the  presence  of  the  clergy.  If  there  is  any  part  in  the  Parlia- 
mentary scheme  of  Edward  the  First  which  can  be  regarded  as 
especially  his   own,  it   is  his  project  for  the  representation   of  the 


i8o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ecclesiastical  order.  The  King  had  twice  at  least  summoned  its 
"proctors"  to  Great  Councils  before  1295,  but  it  was  then  only  that 
the  complete  representation  of  the  Church  was  definitely  organized  by 
the  insertion  of  a  clause  in  the  writ  which  summoned  a  bishop  to 
Parliament  requiring  the  personal  attendance  of  all  archdeacons, 
deans,  or  priors  of  cathedral  churches,  of  a  proctor  for  each  cathedral 
chapter,  and  two  for  the  clergy  within  his  diocese.  The  clause  is 
repeated  in  the  writs  of  the  present  day,  but  its  practical  effect  was 
foiled  almost  from  the  first  by  the  resolute  opposition  of  those  to 
whom  it  was  addressed.  What  the  towns  failed  in  doing  the  clergy 
actually  did.  Even  when  forced  to  comply  with  the  royal  summons, 
as  they  seem  to  have  been  forced  during  Edward's  reign,  they  sat 
jealously  by  themselves,  and  their  refusal  to  vofe  supplies  in  any  but 
their  own  provincial  assemblies,  or  convocations,  of  Canterbury  and 
York  left  the  Crown  without  a  motive  for  insisting  on  their  continued 
attendance.  Their  pre  ence  indeed,  though  still  occasionally  granted 
on  some  solemn  occasions,  became  so  pure  a  formality  that  by  the  end 
of  the  fifteenth  century  it  had  sunk  wholly  into  desuetude.  In  their 
anxiety  to  preserve  their  existence  as  an  isolated  and  privileged  order 
the  clergy  flung  away  a  power  which,  had  they  retained  it,  would  have 
ruinously  hampered  the  healthy  developement  of  the  state.  To  take  a 
single  instance,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  great  changes  of  the 
Reformation  could  have  been  brought  about  had  a  good  half  of  the 
House  of  Commons  consisted  purely  of  churchmen,  whose  numbers 
would  have  been  backed  by  the  weight  of  property  as  possessors  of  a 
third  of  the  landed  estates  of  the  realm.  A  hardly  less  important 
difference  may  be  found  in  the  gradual  restriction  of  the  meetings  of 
Parliament  to  Westminster.  The  names  of  the  early  statutes  remind 
us  of  its  convocation  at  the  most  various  quarters,  at  W^inchester, 
Acton  Burnell,  or  Ni)rthampton.  It  was  at  a  later  time  that  Parlia- 
ment became  settled  in  the  straggling  village  which  had  grown  up  in 
the  marshy  swamp  of  the  Isle  of  Thorns,  beside  the  palace  whose 
embattled  pile  towered  over  the  Thames  and  the  great  minster  which 
was  still  rising  in  Edward's  day  on  the  site  of  the  older  church  of  the 
Confessor.  It  is  possible  that,  while  contributing  greatly  to  its  consti- 
tutional importance,  this  settlement  of  the  Parliament  may  have  helped 
to  throw  into  the  background  its  character  as  a  supreme  court  of 
appeal.  The  proclamation  by  which  it  was  called  together  invited  "  all 
who  had  any  grace  to  demand  of  the  King  in  Parliament,  or  any  plaint 
to  make  of  matters  which  could  not  be  redressed  or  determined  by 
ordinary  course  of  law,  or  who  had  been  in  any  way  aggrieved  by  any 
of  the  King's  ministers  or  justices  or  sheriffs,  or  their  baililTs,  or  any 
other  officer,  or  have  been  unduly  assessed,  rated,  charged,  or  sur- 
charged to  aids,  subsidies,  or  taxes,"  to  deliver  their  petitions  to 
receivers  who  sat  in  the  Cireat  Hall  ot  the  Palace  of  Westminster 


iv:] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


i8j 


The  petitions  were  forwarded  to  the  King's  Council,  and  it  was  pro- 
bably the  extension  of  the  jurisdiction  of  that  body,  and  the  subsequent 
rise  of  the  Court  of  Chancery,  which  reduced  this  ancient  right  of 
the  subject  to  the  formal  election  of  "Triers  of  Petitions"  at  the 
opening  of  every  new  Parliament  by  the  House  of  Lords,  a  usage 
which  is  still  continued.  But  it  must  have  been  owing  to  some 
memory  of  the  older  custom  that  the  subject  always  looked  for  redress 
against  injuries  from  the  Crown  or  its  ministers  to  the  Parliament 
of  the  realm. 


Section  III.— The  Conquest  of  Scotland,  1290— 1306. 

^Authorities.  — Scotland  itself  has  no  contemporary  chronicles  for  this  period  : 
the  jingling  rimes  of  Blind  Harry  are  two  hundred  years  later  than  the  death 
of  his  hero,  Wallace.  Those  of  England  are  meagre  and  inaccurate  ;  the 
most  important  are  the  "  Annales  Anglia;  et  Scotia^"  and  "  Annales  Regni 
Scotise,"  Rishanger's  Chronicle,  his  "  Gesta  Edwardi  Primi,"  and  three  frag 
ments  of  annals  (all  published  in  the  Rolls  Series).  The  portion  of  the  so- 
called  Walsingham's  History  which  relates  to  this  time  is  now  attributed  by 
its  latent  editor,  Mr.  Riley,  to  Rishanger's  hand.  But  the  main  source  of  our 
information  lies  in  the  copious  collection  of  state  papers  preserved  in  Rymer's 
'*  Foedera,"  in  the  "Rotuli  Scotiae,"  and  in  the  "Documents  and  Records 
illustrative  of  the  History  of  Scotland,"  edited  by  Sir  F.  Palgrave.  Mr. 
Robertson,  in  his  *'  Scotland  under  her  Early  Kings,  '  has  admirably  illustrated 
the  ages  before  the  quarrel,  and  Mr.  Burton  in  his  History  of  Scotland  has 
stated  the  quarrel  itself  with  great  accuracy  and  fairness.  For  Edward's  side 
see  the  preface  of  Sir  F.  Palgrave  to  the  work  above,  and  Mr.  Freeman's 
essay  on  "The  Relations  between  the  Crowns  of  England  and  Scotland."] 

The  personal  character  of  Edward  the  First  had  borne  a  large  part 
in  the  constitutional  changes  which  we  have  described,  but  it  becomes 
of  the  highest  moment  during  the  war  with  Scotland  which  covers  the 
latter  half  of  his  reign. 

In  his  own  time,  and  amongst  his  own  subjects,  Edward  was  the 
object  of  almost  boundless  admiration.  He  was  in  the  truest  sense  a 
national  King.  At  the  moment  when  the  last  trace  of  foreign  conquest 
passed  away,  when  the  descendants  of  those  who  won  and  those  who 
lost  at  Senlac  blended  for  ever  into  an  English  people,  England  saw 
in  her  ruler  no  stranger,  but  an  Englishman.  The  national  tradition 
returned  in  more  than  the  golden  hair  or  the  English  name  which 
linked  him  to  our  earlier  Kings.  Edward's  very  temper  was  English 
to  the  core.  In  good  as  in  evil  he  stands  out  as  the  typical  repre- 
sentative of  the  race  he  ruled,  like  them  wilful  and  imperious,  tenacious 
of  his  rights,  indomitable  in  his  pride,  dogged,  stubborn,  slow  of  appre- 
hension, narrow  in  sympathy,  but  like  them,  too,  just  in  the  main, 
unselfish,  laborious,  conscientious,  haughtily  observant  of  truth  and 
self-respect,   temperate,   reverent   of   duty,   religious.      He    inherited 


Sec.  III. 

The  Con- 
quest OK 
Scotland 

1290 

TO 

1305 


Edivard 
the  First 

1272-1307 


1 82 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


indeed  from  the  Angevins  their  fierce  and  passionate  wrath ;  his 
punishments,  when  he  punished  in  anger,  were  without  pity  ;  and  a 
priest  who  ventured  at  a  moment  of  storm  into  his  presence  with  a 
remonstrance  dropped  dead  from  sheer  fright  at  his  feet.  But  for  the 
most  part  his  impulses  were  generous,  trustful,  averse  from  cruelty, 
prone  to  forgiveness.  "  No  man  ever  asked  mercy  of  me,"  he  said  in 
his  old  age,  "  and  was  refused."  The  rough  soldierly  nobleness  of  his 
nature  breaks  out  at  Falkirk,  where  he  lay  on  the  bare  ground  among 
his  men,  or  in  his  refusal  during  a  Welsh  campaign  to  drink  of  the  one 
cask  of  wine  which  had  been  saved  from  marauders :  "It  is  I  who 
have  brought  you  into  this  strait,"  he  said  to  his  thirsty  fellow-soldiers, 
"  and  I  will  have  no  advantage  of  you  in  meat  or  drink."  A  strange 
tenderness  and  sensitiveness  to  affection  lay  in  fact  beneath  the  stern 
imperiousness  of  his  outer  bearing.  Every  subject  throughout  his 
realm  was  drawn  closer  to  the  King  who  wept  bitterly  at  the  news  of 
his  father's  death,  though  it  gave  him  a  crown  ;  whose  fiercest  burst 
of  vengeance  was  called  out  by  an  insult  to  his  mother ;  whose  crosses 
rose  as  memorials  of  his  love  and  sorrow  at  every  spot  where  his  wife's 
bier  rested.  '*  I  loved  her  tenderly  in  her  lifetime,"  wrote  Edward  to 
Eleanor's  friend,  the  Abbot  of  Cluny  ;  "  I  do  not  cease  to  love  her  now 
she  is  dead."  And  as  it  was  with  mother  and  wife,  so  it  was  with  his 
people  at  large.  All  the  self-concentrated  isolation  of  the  earlier 
Angevins  disappears  in  Edward.  He  was  the  first  English  king  since 
the  Conquest  who  loved  his  people  with  a  personal  love,  and  craved 
for  their  love  back  again  To  his  trust  in  them  we  owe  our  Parlia- 
ment, to  his  care  for  them  the  great  statutes  which  stand  in  the 
forefront  of  our  laws.  Even  in  his  struggles  with  her  England  under- 
stood a  temper  which  was  so  perfectly  her  own,  and  the  quarrels 
between  King  and  people  during  his  reign  are  quarrels  where,  dog- 
gedly as  they  fought,  neither  disputant  doubted  for  a  moment  the 
worth  or  affection  of  the  other.  Few  scenes  in  our  history  are  more 
touching  than  that  which  closes  the  long  contest  over  the  Charter, 
when  Edward  stood  face  to  face  with  his  people  in  Westminster 
Hall,  and  with  a  sudden  burst  of  tears  owned  himself  frankl>  in 
the  wrong. 

liut  it  was  just  this  sensitiveness,  this  openness  to  outer  impressions 
and  outer  inlluences,  that  led  to  the  strange  contradictions  which  mee* 
us  in  Edward's  career.  Under  the  first  king  whose  temper  was  dis- 
tinctly English  a  foreign  influence  told  most  fatally  on  our  manners, 
our  literature,  our  national  spirit.  The  rise  of  France  into  a  compact 
and  organized  monarchy  from  the  time  of  Philip  Augustus  was  now 
making  its  influence  dominant  in  Western  Europe.  The  "chivalry ** 
so  familiar  in  Froissart,  that  picturesque  mimicry  of  high  sentiment, 
of  heroism,  love,  and  courtesy,  before  which  all  depth  and  reality  of 
nobleness  disappeared  to  make  room  for  the  coarsest  profligacy,  the 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


183 


narrowest  caste-spirit,  and  a  brutal  indifference  to  human  suffering, 
was  specially  of  French  creation.  There  was  a  nobleness  in  Edward's 
nature  from  which  the  baser  influences  of  this  chivalry  fell  away. 
His  life  was  pure,  his  piety,  save  when  it  stooped  to  the  superstition  of 
the  time,  manly  and  sincere,  while  his  high  sense  of  duty  saved  him 
from  the  frivolous  self-indulgence  of  his  successors.  But  he  was  far 
from  being  wholly  free  from  the  taint  of  his  age.  His  passionate 
desire  was  to  be  a  model  of  the  fashionable  chivalry  of  his  day.  He 
had  been  famous  from  his  very  youth  as  a  consummate  general  ;  Earl 
Simon  had  admired  the  skill  of  his  advance  at  Evesham,  and  in  his 
Welsh  campaign  he  had  shown  a  tenacity  and  force  of  will  which 
wrested  victory  out  of  the  midst  of  defeat.  He  could  head  a  furious 
charge  of  horse  at  Lewes,  or  organize  a  commissariat  which  enabled 
him  to  move  army  after  army  across  the  harried  Lowlands.  In  his 
old  age  he  was  quick  to  discover  the  value  of  the  English  archery,  and 
to  employ  it  as  a  means  of  victory  at  Falkirk.  But  his  fame  as  a 
general  seemed  a  small  thing  to  Edward  when  compared  with  his  fame 
as  a  knight.  He  shared  to  the  full  his  people's  love  of  hard  fighting. 
His  frame,  indeed,  was  that  of  a  born  soldier — tall,  deep-chested,  long 
of  limb,  capable  alike  of  endurance  or  action.  When  he  encountered 
Adam  Gurdon,  a  knight  of  gigantic  size  and  renowned  prowess,  after 
Evesham  he  forced  him  single-handed  to  beg  for  mercy.  At  the 
opening  of  his  reign  he  saved  his  life  by  sheer  fighting  in  a  tournament 
at  Challon.  It  was  this  love  of  adventure  which  lent  itself  to  the 
frivolous  unreality  of  the  new  chivalry.  At  his  "  Round  Table  of 
Kenilworth  "  a  hundred  lords  and  ladies,  "  clad  all  in  silk,"  renewed 
the  faded  glories  of  Arthur's  Court.  The  false  air  of  romance  which 
was  soon  to  turn  the  gravest  political  resolutions  into  outbursts  of 
sentimental  feeling  appeared  in  his  "  Vow  of  the  Swan,'*  when  rising 
at  the  royal  board  he  swore  on  the  dish  before  him  to  avenge  on 
Scotland  the  murder  of  Comyn.  Chivalry  exerted  on  him  a  yet  more 
fatal  influence  in  its  narrowing  of  his  sympathy  to  the  noble  class,  and 
in  its  exclusion  of  the  peasant  and  the  craftsman  from  all  claim  to  pity. 
"  Knight  without  reproach "  as  he  was,  he  looked  calmly  on  at  the 
massacre  of  the  burghers  of  Berwick,  and  saw  in  William  Wallace 
nothing  but  a  common  robber. 

Hardly  less  powerful  than  the  French  notion  of  chivalry  in  its  influ- 
ence on  Edward's  mind  was  the  new  French  conception  of  kingship, 
feudality,  and  law.  The  rise  of  a  lawyer  class  was  everywhere  harden- 
ing customary  into  written  rights,  allegiance  into  subjection,  loose  ties 
such  as  commendation  into  a  definite  vassalage.  But  it  was  specially 
through  French  influence,  the  influence  of  St.  Lewis  and  his  successors, 
that  the  imperial  theories  of  the  Roman  Law  were  brought  to  bear  upon 
this  natural  tendency  of  the  time.  When  the  "  sacred  majesty''  of  the 
Cassars  was  transferred  by  a  legal  fiction  to  the  royal  head  of  a  feudal 


[84 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


baronage,  every  constitutional  relation  was  changed.  The  "  defiance  " 
by  which  a  vassal  renounced  service  to  his  lord  became  treason,  his 
after  resistance  "  sacrilege."  That  Edward  could  appreciate  what  was 
sound  and  noble  in  the  legal  spirit  around  him  was  shown  in  his 
reforms  of  our  judicature  and  our  Parliament ;  but  there  was  some- 
thing as  congenial  to  his  mind  in  its  definiteness,  its  rigidity,  its 
narrow  technicalities.  He  was  never  wilfully  unjust,  but  he  was  too 
often  captious  in  his  justice,  fond  of  legal  chicanery,  prompt  to  take 
advantage  of  the  letter  of  the  law.  The  high  conception  of  royalty 
which  he  had  borrowed  from  St.  Lewis  united  with  this  legal  turn  of 
mind  in  the  worst  acts  of  his  reign.  Of  rights  or  liberties  unregistered 
in  charter  or  roll  Edward  would  know  nothing,  while  his  own  good 
sense  was  overpowered  by  the  majesty  of  his  crown.  It  was  incredible 
to  him  that  Scotland  should  revolt  against  a  legal  bargain  which  made 
her  national  independence  conditional  on  the  terms  extorted  from  a 
claimant  of  her  throne  ;  nor  could  he  view  in  any  other  light  but  as 
treason  the  resistance  of  his  own  baronage  to  an  arbitrary  taxation 
which  their  fathers  had  borne.  It  is  in  the  very  anomalies  of  such  a 
character,  in  its  strange  union  of  justice  and  wrong-doing,  of  noble- 
ness and  meanness,  that  we  must  look  for  any  fair  explanation  of 
much  that  has  since  been  bitterly  blamed  in  Edward's  conduct  and 
policy. 

Fairly  to  understand  his  quarrel  with  the  Scots,  we  nust  clear  our 
minds  of  the  ideas  which  we  now  associate  with  *he  words  ''Scotland," 
or  the  "  Scotch  people."  At  the  opening  of  tiie  fourteenth  century 
the  kingdom  of  the  Scots  was  composed  of  four  districts,  each  of  which 
had  originally  its  different  people,  its  different  speech,  or  at  least 
dialect,  and  its  different  history.  The  first  of  these  was  the  Lowland 
district,  at  one  time  called  Saxony,  and  which  now  bears  the  name  of 
Lothian  and  the  Merse  (or  border  land),  the  space,  roughly  speaking, 
between  the  Forth  and  Tweed.  We  have  seen  that  at  the  close  of  the 
English  conquest  of  Britain  the  kingdom  of  Northumbria  stretched 
from  the  11  umber  to  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  of  this  kingdom  the 
Lowlands  formed  simply  the  northern  portion.  The  English  conquest 
and  the  English  colonization  were  as  complete  here  as  over  the  rest  of 
Britain.  Rivers  and  hills  indeed  retained  their  Celtic  names,  but  the 
"tons"  and  "hams"  scattered  over  the  country  told  the  story  of  its 
Teutonic  settlement.  Livings  and  Dodings  left  their  names  to  Living- 
stone and  Duddingstone  ;  Elphinstone,  Dolphinstone  and  Edmundstone 
preserved  the  memory  of  English  Elphins,  Dolphins,  and  Edmunds, 
who  had  raised  their  homesteads  beyond  the  Teviot  and  the  Tweed. 
To  the  northward  and  westward  of  this  Northumbrian  land  lay  the 
kingdoms  of  the  conquered.  Over  the  ''Waste"  or  "Desert" — the 
range  of  barren  moors  which  stretches  from  Derbyshire  to  the  Cheviots 
—  the  Briton  had  sought  a  refuge  in  tlie  long  strip  of  coast  between  the 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


[85 


Clyde  and  the  Dee  which  formed  the  earher  Cumbria.  Against  this 
kingdom  the  efforts  of  the  Northumbrian  rulers  had  been  incessantly 
directed  ;  the  victory  of  Chester  had  severed  it  from  the  Welsh  king- 
doms to  the  south  ;  Lancashire,  Westmoreland,  and  Cumberland  were 
already  subdued  by  the  time  of  Ecgfrith  ;  while  the  fragment  which 
was  suffered  to  remain  unconquered  between  the  Firths  of  Solway  and 
of  Clyde,  and  to  which  the  name  of  Cumbria  is  in  its  later  use  confined, 
owned  the  English  supremacy.  At  the  close  of  the  seventh  century 
it  seemed  likely  that  the  same  supremacy  would  extend  over  the  Celtic 
tribes  to  the  north.  The  district  north  of  the  Clyde  and  Forth  was 
originally  inhabited  chiefly  by  the  Picts,  a  Latin  name  for  the  people 
who  seem  to  have  called  themselves  the  Cruithne.  To  these  Highlanders 
the  country  south  of  the  Forth  was  a  foreign  land,  and  significant 
entries  in  their  rude  chronicles  tell  us  how  in  their  forays  "  the  Picts 
made  a  raid  upon  Saxony."  But  during  the  period  of  Northumbrian 
greatness  they  had  begun  to  yield  at  least  on  their  borders  some  kind 
of  submission  to  its  kings.  Eadwine  had  built  a  fort  at  Dunedin,  which 
became  Edinburgh  and  looked  menacingly  across  the  Forth  ;  and  at 
Abercorn  beside  it  was  established  an  English  prelate  with  the  title  of 
Bishop  of  the  Picts.  Ecgfrith,  in  whose  hands  the  power  of  Northum- 
bria  reached  its  highest  point,  marched  across  the  Forth  to  change  this 
over-lordship  into  a  direct  dominion,  and  to  bring  the  series  of  English 
victories  to  a  close.  His  host  poured  burning  and  ravaging  across 
the  Tay,  and  s  irted  the  base  of  the  Grampians  as  far  as  the  field  of 
Nectansmere,  where  King  Bruidi  awaited  them  at  the  head  of  the 
Picts.  The  great  battle  which  followed  proved  a  turning-point  in  the 
history  of  the  North  ;  the  invaders  were  cut  to  pieces,  Ecgfrith  himself 
being  among  the  slain,  and  the  power  of  N  orthumbria  was  broken  for 
ever.  On  the  other  hand,  the  kingdom  of  the  Picts  started  into  new 
life  with  its  great  victory,  and  pushed  its  way  in  the  hundred  years 
thatfollowed  westward,  eastward,  and  southward,  till  the  whole  country 
north  of  the  Forth  and  the  Clyde  acknowledged  its  supremacy.  But 
the  hour  of  Pictish  greatness  was  marked  by  the  sudden  extinction  of 
the  Pictish  name.  Centuries  before,  when  the  English  invaders  were 
beginning  to  harry  the  south  coast  of  Britain,  a  fleet  of  coracles  had 
borne  a  tribe  of  the  Scots,  as  the  inhabitants  of  Ireland  were  at  that 
time  called,  from  the  black  cliff-walls  of  Antrim  to  the  rocky  and 
indented  coast  of  South  Argyle.  The  little  kingdom  of  Scot-land  which 
these  Irishmen  founded  slumbered  in  obscurity  among  the  lakes  and 
mountains  to  the  south  of  Loch  Linnhe,  now  submitting  to  the  over- 
lordship  of  Northumbria,  now  to  that  of  the  Picts,  till  the  extinction 
of  the  direct  Pictish  line  of  sovereigns  raised  the  Scot  King,  Kenneth 
MaG-/\lpin,  who  chanced  to  be  their  nearest  kinsman,  to  the  vacant 
tiirone.  For  fifty  years  these  rulers  of  Scottish  blood  still  call  them- 
elves   "Kings   of  the    Picts;"    but   with  the   opening  of  the   tenth 


i86 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAr 


century  the  very  name  passes  away,  the  tribe  which  had  given  its 
chief  to  the  common  throne  gives  its  designation  to  the  common  realm, 
and  "  Pict-land  "  vanishes  from  the  page  of  the  chronicler  or  annalist 
to  make  way  for  the  "  land  of  the  Scots." 

It  was  even  longer  before  the  change  made  way  among  the  people 
itself,  and  the  real  union  of  the  nation  with  its  kings  was  only  effected 
by  the  common  suffering  of  the  Danish  wars.  In  the  north,  as  in  the 
south  of  Britain,  the  invasion  of  the  Danes  brought  about  political 
unity.  Not  only  were  IMcts  and  Scots  thoroughly  blended  into  a  singte 
people,  but  by  the  annexation  of  Cumbria  and  the  Lowlands,  their 
monarchs  became  rulers  of  the  territory  which  we  now  call  Scotland. 
The  annexation  was  owing  to  the  new  policy  of  the  English  Kings. 
Their  aim,  after  the  long  struggle  of  England  with  the  northmen,  was 
no  longer  to  crush  the  kingdom  across  the  Forth,  but  to  raise  it  into  a 
bulwark  against  the  northmen  who  were  still  settled  in  Caithness  and 
the  Orkneys,  and  for  whose  aggressions  Scotland  was  the  natural 
highway.  C  n  the  other  hand,  it  was  only  in  English  aid  that  the  Scot 
Kings  could  find  a  support  for  their  throne  against  these  Norse  Jarls 
of  Orkney  and  Caithness.  It  was  probably  this  common  hostility  to 
a  common  foe  which  brought  about  the  "  commendation  "  by  which 
the  Scots  beyond  the  Forth,  with  the  Welsh  of  Strath-clyde,  chose  the 
English  King,  Eadward  the  Elder,  "  to  father  and  lord."  The  choice, 
whatever  weight  after  events  may  have  given  to  it,  seems  to  have 
been  little  more  than  the  renewal  of  the  loose  English  supremacy 
over  the  tribes  of  the  North  which  had  existed  during  the  times  of 
Northumbrian  greatness ;  it  certainly  implied  at  the  time  nothing 
save  a  right  on  either  side  to  military  aid,  though  the  aid  then 
rendered  was  necessarily  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  stronger  party  to 
the  agreement.  Such  a  connexion  naturally  ceased  in  the  event  ol 
any  war  between  the  two  contracting  parties  ;  it  was  in  fact  by  no 
means  the  feudal  vassalage  of  a  later  time,  but  rather  a  military  con- 
vention. But  loose  as  was  the  tie  which  bound  the  two  countries,  a 
closer  tie  soon  bound  the  Scot  King  himself  to  his  English  overlord. 
Strath-clyde,  which,  after  the  defeat  of  Nectansmere,  had  shaken  off 
the  English  yoke,  and  which  at  a  later  time  had  owned  the  supremacy 
of  the  Scots,  rose  into  a  temporary  independence  only  to  be  conquered 
by  the  English  Eadmund.  By  him  it  was  granted  to  Malcolm  of 
Scotland  on  condition  that  he  should  become  his  "  fellow- worker " 
both  by  land  and  sea,  and  became  from  that  time  the  appanage  of  the 
eldest  son  of  the  Scottish  king.  At  a  later  time,  under  Eadgar  or  Cnut, 
the  whole  of  Northern  Korthumbria,  or  what  we  now  call  the  Lothians, 
was  ceded  to  the  Scottish  sovereigns,  but  whether  on  the  same  terms 
of  feudal  dependence  or  on  the  same  loose  terms  of  "  commendation  " 
as  already  existed  for  lands  north  of  the  Forth,  we  have  no  means 
of  deciding.      The   retreat,   however    of   the    bounds   of  the  great 


IV.  j 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


187 


English  bishopric  of  the  North,  the  see  of  St.  Cuthbert,  as  far 
southward  as  the  Pentland  Hills,  would  seem  to  imply  a  greater 
change  in  the  political  character  of  the  ceded  district  than  the  first 
theory  would  allow. 

Whatever  change  these  cessions  may  have  brought  about  in  the 
relation  of  the  Scottish  to  the  English  Kings,  they  certainly  affected 
in  a  very  marked  way  their  relation  both  to  England  and  to  their  own 
realm.  One  result  of  the  acquisition  of  the  Lowlands  was  the  ultimate 
fixing  of  the  royal  residence  in  their  new  southern  dominion  at  Edin- 
burgh ;  and  the  English  civilization  with  which  they  were  then 
surrounded  changed  the  Scot  Kings  in  all  but  blood  into  English- 
men. A  way  soon  opened  itself  to  the  English  crown  by  the  marriage 
of  Malcolm  with  Margaret,  the  sister  of  Eadgar  ^theling.  Their 
children  were  regarded  by  a  large  party  within  England  as  representa- 
tives of  the  older  royal  race  and  as  claimants  of  the  throne,  and  this 
danger  grew  as  William's  devastation  of  the  North  not  only  drove 
fresh  multitudes  of  Englishmen  to  settle  in  the  Lowlands,  but  filled  the 
Scotch  court  with  English  nobles  who  fled  thither  for  refuge.  So 
formidable,  indeed,  became  the  pretensions  of  the  Scot  Kings,  that 
they  forced  the  ablest  of  our  Norman  sovereigns  into  a  complete 
,  change  of  policy.  The  Conqueror  and  William  the  Red  had  met  the 
threats  of  the  Scot  sovereigns  by  invasions  which  ended  again  and 
again  in  an  illusory  homage  ;  but  the  marriage  of  Henry  the  First 
with  the  Scottish  Matilda  not  only  robbed  the  claims  of  the  Scottish 
line  of  much  of  their  force,  but  enabled  him  to  draw  it  into  far  closer 
relations  with  the  Norman  throne.  King  David  not  only  abandoned 
the  ambitious  dreams  of  his  predecessors  to  place  himself  later  at  the 
head  of  his  niece  Matilda's  party  in  her  contest  with  Stephen,  but  as 
Henry's  brother-in-law  he  figured  as  the  first  noble  of  the  English 
court,  and  found  English  models  and  English  support  im  the  work  of 
organization  which  he  attempted  within  his  own  dominions.  As  the 
marriage  with  Margaret  had  changed  Malcolm  from  a  Celtic  chieftain 
into  an  English  King,  so  that  of  Matilda  converted  David  into  a 
Norman  and  'feudal  sovereign.  His  court  was  filled  with  Norman 
nobles  from  the  South,  such  as  the  Balliols  and  Bruces  who  were 
destined  to  play  so  great  a  part  afterwards  but  who  now  for  the  first 
time  obtained  fiefs  in  the  Scottish  realm  ;  and  a  feudal  jurisprudence 
modelled  on  that  of  England  was  introduced  into  the  Lowlands.  A 
fresh  connexion  between  the  countries  began  with  the  grant  of  lord- 
ships in  England  to  the  Scot  Kings  or  their  sons.  Homage  was  some- 
times rendered,  whether  for  these  lordships,  for  the  Lowlands,  or  for 
the  whole  Scottish  realm,  but  it  was  the  capture  of  William  the  Lion 
during  the  revolt  of  the  English  baronage  which  suggested  to 
Henry  the  Second  the  project  of  a  closer  dependence  of  Scotland  on 
the  English  Crown.     To  gain  his  freedom,  William  consented  to  hold 


i88 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  III. 

The  Con- 
quest OF 
Scotland 

ia9o 

TO 

laoft 


1286 


290 


Tbe  First 
Conquest 

I 290- I 296 


May^  1 29 1 


his  crown  of  Henry  and  his  heirs,  the  prelates  and  lords  of  the  Scotch 
kingdom  did  homage  to  Henry  as  to  their  direct  lord,  and  a  right  of 
appeal  in  all  Scotch  causes  was  allowed  to  the  superior  court  of  the 
English  suzerain.  From  this  bondage,  however,  Scotland  was  soon 
freed  by  the  prodigality  of  Richard,  who  allowed  her  to  buy  back  the 
freedom  she  had  forfeited,  and  from  that  time  the  difficulties  of  the 
older  claim  were  evaded  by  a  legal  compromise.  The  Scot  Kings 
repeatedly  did  homage  to  the  English  sovereign,  but  with  a  reservation 
of  rights  which  were  prudently  left  unspecified.  The  English  King 
accepted  the  homage  on  the  assumption  that  it  was  rendered  to  him 
as  overlord  of  the  Scottish  realm,  and  this  assumption  was  neither 
granted  nor  denied.  P^or  nearly  a  hundred  years  the  relations  of  the 
two  countries  were  thus  kept  peaceful  and  friendly,  and  the  death  of 
Alexander  the  Third  seemed  destined  to  remove  even  the  necessity  of 
protests  by  a  closer  union  of  the  two  kingdoms.  Alexander  had 
wedded  his  only  daughter  to  the  King  of  Norway,  and  after  long 
negotiation  the  Scotch  Parliament  proposed  the  marriage  of  her  child 
Margaret,  "the  Maid  of  Norway,"  with  the  son  of  Edward  the  Fiist. 
It  was,  however,  carefully  provided  in  the  marriage  treaty  of  lirigham 
that  Scotland  should  remain  a  separate  and  free  kingdom,  and  that  its 
laws  and  customs  should  be  preserved  inviolate.  No  military  aid  was^ 
to  be  claimed  by  the  English  King,  no  Scotch  appeal  to  be  carried  to 
an  English  court.  But  this  project  was  abruptly  frustrated  by  the 
child's  death  on  her  voyage  to  Scotland,  and  with  the  rise  of  claimant 
after  claimant  of  the  vacant  throne  Edward  was'  drawn  into  far  other 
relations  to  the  Scottish  realm. 

Of  the  thirteen  pretenders  to  the  throne  of  Scotland,  only  three 
could  be  regarded  as  serious  claimants.  By  the  extinction  of  the  line 
of  William  the  Lion  the  right  of  succession  passed  to  the  daughters  of 
his  brother, David.  The  claim  of  John  Balliol,  Lord  of  Galloway, 
rested  on  his  descent  from  the  eldest  of  these  ;  that  of  Robert  Bruce, 
Lord  of  Annandale,  on  his  descent  from  the  second  ;  that  of  John 
Hastings,  Lord  of  Abergavenny,  on  his  descent  from  the  third.  At 
this  crisis  the  Norwegian  King,  the  Primate  of  St.  Andrew's,  and 
seven  of  the  Scotch  Earls,  had  already  appealed  to  Edward  before 
Margaret's  death  ;  and  the  death  itself  was  followed  by  the  consent 
both  of  the  claimants  and  the  Council  of  Regency  to  refer  the  question 
of  the  succession  to  his  decision  in  a  Parliament  at  Norham.  But  the 
over-lordship  which  the  Scots  acknowledged  was  something  far  less 
direct  and  definite  than  what  Edward  claimed  at  the  opening  of  this 
conference.  His  claim  was  supported  by  excerpts  from  English 
monastic  chronicles,  and  by  the  slow  advance  of  an  English  army, 
while  the  Scotch  lords,  taken  by  surprise,  found  little  help  in  the  delay 
which  was  granted  them,  and  at  last,  in  common  with  nine  of  the 
claimants  themselves,  formally  admitted  Edward's  direct  suzerainty. 


IV.  1 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


1S9 


lo  the  nobles,  in  fact,  the  concession  must  have  seemed  a  small  one, 
for  like  the  principal  claimants  they  were  for  the  most  part  Norman 
in  blood,  with  estates  in  both  countries,  and  looking  for  honours  and 
pensions  from  the  English  Court.  From  the  Commons  who  were 
gathered  with  the  nobles  at  Norham  no  adntission  of  Edward's  claims 
could  be  extorted  ;  but  in  Scotland,  feudalized  as  it  had  been  by  David, 
the  Commons  were  as  yet  of  little  weight,  and  their  opposition  was 
quietly  passed  by.  All  the  rights  of  a  feudal  suzerain  were  at  once 
assumed  by  the  English  King ;  he  entered  into  the  possession  of  the 
country  as  into  that  of  a  disputed  fief  to  be  held  by  its  over-lord  till  the 
dispute  was  settled,  his  peace  was  sworn  throughout  the  land,  its 
castles  delivered  into  his  charge,  while  its  bishops  and  nobles  swore 
homage  to  him  directly  as  their  lord  superior,  Scotland  was  thus 
reduced  to  the  subjection  which  she  had  experienced  under  Henry  the 
Second,  but  the  full  discussion  which  followed  over  the  various  claims 
to  the  throne  showed  that,  while  exacting  to  the  full  what  he  believed 
to  be  his  right,  Edward  desired  to  do  justice  to  the  country  itself.  The 
commissioners  whom  he  named  to  report  on  the  claims  to  the  throne 
were  mainly  Scotch  ;  a  proposal  for  the  partition  of  the  realm  among 
the  claimants  was  rejected  as  contrary  to  Scotch  law  ;  and  the  claim 
of  Balliol  as  representative  of  the  elder  branch  was  finally  preferred 
to  that  of  his  rivals. 

The  castles  were  at  once  delivered  to  the  new  monarch,  and  Balliol 
did  homage  to  Edward  with  full  acknowledgement  of  the  services  due 
to  him  from  the  realm  of  Scotland.  For  a  time  there  was  peace. 
Edward  in  fact  seemed  to  have  no  desire  to  push  farther  the  rights  of 
his  crown.  Even  allowing  that  Scotland  was  a  dependent  kingdom,  it 
was  far  from  being  an  ordinary  fief  of  the  English  crown.  By  feudal 
custom  a  distinction  had  always  been  held  to  exist  between  the  rela- 
tions of  a  dependent  king  to  a  superior  lord  and  those  ofa  vassal  noble 
to  his  sovereign.  At  Balliol's  homage  Edward  had  disclaimed,  in 
strict  accordance  with  the  marriage  treaty  of  Brigham,  any  right  to 
the  ordinary  incidents  of  a  fief,  those  of  wardship  or  marriage  ;  but 
there  were  other  customs  of  the  realm  of  Scotland  as  incontestable  as 
these.  The  Scot  King  had  never  been  held  bound  to  attend  the 
council  of  the  English  baronage,  to  do  service  in  English  warfare,  or 
to  contribute  on  the  part  of  his  Scotch  realm  to  English  aids.  No 
express  acknowledgement  of  these  rights  had  been  given  by  Edward, 
but  for  a  time  they  were  practically  observed.  The  claim  of  inde- 
pendent justice  was  more  doubtful,  as  it  was  of  higher  import  than 
these.  It  was  certain  that  no  appeal  from  a  Scotch  King's  court  to 
that  of  his  supposed  overlord  had  been  allowed  since  the  days  of 
William  the  Lion,  and  the  judicial  independence  of  Scotland  had  been 
expressly  reserved  in  the  marriage  treaty.  But  in  feudal  jurisprudence 
the  right  of  ultimate  appeal  was  the  test  of  sovereignty.     This  right 


lOO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


of  appeal  Edward  now  determined  to  enforce,  and  Balliol  at  first  gave 
way.  It  was  alleged,  however,  that  the  resentment  of  his  baronage 
and  people  forced  him  to  resist ;  and  while  appearing  formally  ^t 
Westminster  he  refused  to  answer  an  appeal  save  by  advice  of  his 
Council.  He  was  in  fact  looking  to  France,  which,  as  we  shall  after- 
wards see,  was  jealously  watching  Edward's  proceedings,  and  ready 
to  force  him  into  war.  By  a  new  breach  of  customary  law  Edward 
summoned  the  Scotch  nobles  to  follow  him  in  arms  against  this  foreign 
foe.  But  the  summons  was  disregarded,  and  a  second  and  formal 
refusal  of  aid  was  followed  by  a  secret  alliance  with  France  and  by  a 
Papal  absolution  of  Balliol  from  his  oath  of  fealty. 

Edward  was  still  reluctant  to  begin  the  war,  when  all  hope  of 
accommodation  was  ended  by  the  refusal  of  Balliol  to  attend  his 
Parliament  at  Newcastle,  the  rout  of  a  small  body  of  English  troops, 
and  the  investment  of  Carlisle  by  the  Scots.  Orders  were  at  once 
given  for  an  advance  upon  Berwick.  The  taunts  of  its  citizens  stung 
the  King  to  the  quick.  "  Kynge  Edward,  waune  thou  havest  Berwick, 
pike  thee  ;  waune  thou  havest  geten,  dike  thee,"  they  shouted  from 
behind  the  wooden  stockade,  which  formed  the  only  rampart  of  the 
town.  But  the  stockade  was  stormed  with  the  loss  of  a  single  knight, 
and  nearly  eight  thousand  of  the  citizens  were  mown  down  in  a  ruth- 
less carnage,  while  a  handful  of  Flemish  traders  who  held  the  town- 
hall  stoutly  against  all  assailants  were  burned  alive  in  it.  The  massacre- 
only  ceased  when  a  procession  of  priests  bore  the  host  to  the  King's 
presence,  praying  for  mercy,  and  Edward  with  a  sudden  and  character- 
istic burst  of  tears  called  off  his  troops  ;  but  the  town  was  ruined  for 
ever,  and  the  great  merchant  city  of  the  North  sank  from  that  time 
into  a  petty  seaport.  At  Berwick  Edward  received  Balliol's  defiance. 
"Has  the  fool  done  this  folly?"  the  King  cried  in  haughty  scorn. 
"  If  he  will  not  come  to  us,  we  will  come  to  him."  The  terrible 
slaughter,  however,  had  done  its  work,  and  his  march  was  a  triumphal 
progress.  Edinburgh,  Stirling,  and  Perth  opened  their  gates,  Bruce 
joined  the  English  army,  and  Balliol  himself  surrendered  and  passed 
without  a  blow  from  his  throne  to  an  English  prison.  No  further 
punishment,  however,  was  exacted  from  the  prostrate  realm.  Edward 
simply  treated  it  as  a  fief,  and  declared  its  forfeiture  to  be  the  legal 
consequence  of  Balliol's  treason.  It  lapsed  in  fact  to  the  overlord, 
and  its  earls,  barons,  and  gentry  swore  homage  in  Parliament  at 
Berwick  to  Edward  as  their  king.  The  sacred  stone  on  which  itr 
older  sovereigns  had  been  installed,  an  oblong  block  of  sandstone, 
which  legend  asserted  to  have  been  the  pillow  of  Jacob  as  angels 
ascended  and  descended  rpon  him,  was  removed  from  Scone  and 
placed  in  Westminster  by  the  shrine  of  the  Confessor.  It  was  enclosed 
by  Edward's  order  in  a  stately  seat,  which  became  from  that  hour  the 
coronation  chair  of  English  kings. 


TM 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


191 


To  the  King  himself  the  whole  business  must  have  seemed  another 
and  easier  conquest  of  Wales,  and  the  mercy  and  just  government 
which  had  followed  his  first  success  followed  his  second  also.  The 
government  of  the  new  dependency  was  entrusted  to  Warenne,  Earl 
of  Surrey,  at  the  head  of  an  English  Council  of  Regency.  Pardon 
was  freely  extended  to  all  who  had  resisted  the  invasion,  and  order 
and  public  peace  were  rigidly  enforced.  But  both  the  justice  and 
injustice  of  the  new  rule  proved  fatal  to  it  ;  the  wrath  of  the  Scots, 
already  kindled  by  the  intrusion  of  English  priests  into  Scotch  livings, 
and  by  the  grant  of  lands  across  the  border  to  English  barons,  was 
fanned  to  fury  by  the  strict  administration  of  law,  and  the  repression 
of  feuds  and  cattle-lifting.  The  disbanding,  too,  of  troops,  which  was 
caused  by  the  penury  of  the  royal  exchequer,  united  with  the  licence 
of  the  soldiery  who  remained  to  quicken  the  national  sense  of  wrong. 
The  disgraceful  submission  of  their  leaders  brought  the  people  them- 
selves to  the  front.  In  spite  of  a  hundred  years  of  peace  the  farmer 
of  the  Lowlands  and  the  artisan  of  the  towns  remained  stout-hearted 
Northumbrian  Englishmen  ;  they  had  never  consented  to  Edward's 
supremacy,  and  their  blood  rose  against  the  insolent  rule  of  the 
stranger.  The  genius  of  an  outlaw  knight,  William  Wallace,  saw  in 
their  smouldering  discontent  a  hope  of  freedom  for  his  country,  and 
his  daring  raids  on  outlying  parties  of  the  English  soldiery  roused  the 
country  at  last  into  revolt  Of  Wallace  himself,  of  his  life  or  temper, 
we  know  little  or  nothing  ;  the  very  traditions  of  his  gigantic  stature 
and  enormous  strength  are  dim  and  unhistorical.  But  the  instinct  of 
the  Scotch  people  has  guided  it  aright  in  choosing  Wallace  for  its 
national  hero.  He  was  the  first  to  assert  freedom  as  a  national  birth- 
right, and  amidst  the  despair  of  nobles  and  priests  to  call  the  people 
itself  to  arms.  At  the  head  of  an  army  drawn  principally  from  the 
coa^t  districts  north  of  the  Tay,  which  were  inhabited  by  a  population 
of  the  same  blood  as  that  of  the  Lowlands,  Wallace,  in  September, 
1297,  encamped  near  Stirling,  the  pass  between  the  north  and  the 
south,  and  awaited  the  English  advance.  The  offers  of  John  of 
Warenne  were  scornfully  rejected  :  "We  have  come,"  said  the  Scottish 
leader,  "  not  to  make  peace,  but  to  free  our  country  "  The  position  of 
W^allace,  a  rise  of  hills  behind  a  loop  of  Forth,  was  in  fact  chosen  with 
consummate  skill.  The  one  bridge  which  crossed  the  river  was  only 
oroad  enough  to  admit  two  horsemen  abreast  ;  and  though  the  English 
army  had  been  passing  from  daybreak,  only  half  its  force  was  across 
at  noon  when  Wallace  closed  on  it  and  cut  it  after  a  short  combat  to 
pieces  in  the  sight  of  its  comrades.  The  retreat  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey 
over  the  border  left  Wallace  head  of  the  country  he  had  freed,  and  for 
a  time  he  acted  as  "Guardian  of  the  Realm"  in  Balliol's  name,  and 
headed  a  wild  foray  into  Northumberland.  His  reduction  of  Stirling 
Castle  at  last  called  Edward  to  the  field.     The   King,  who  marched 


102 


HISTORY  OF  THE'  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


northward  with  a  larger  host  tha^^  had  ever  foiloucJ  his  bannei,  was 
enabled  by  treachery  to  surprise  Wallace,  as  he  fell  back  to  avoi^i  an 
engagement,  and  to  force  him  to  battle  near  Falkirk.  The  Scotch 
force  consisted  almost  wholly  of  foot,  and  Wallace  drew  up  his  spear- 
men in  four  great  hollow  circles  or  squares,  the  outer  ranks  kneeling, 
and  the  whole  supported  by  bowmen  within,  while  a  small  force  of 
horse  were  drawn  up  as  a  reserve  in  the  rear.  It  was  the  form.itionof 
Waterloo,  the  tirst  appearance  in  our  history  since  the  day  of  Senlac 
of  "  that  unconquerable  British  infantry,"  before  which  chivalry  was 
destined  to  go  down.  For  a  moment  it  had  all  Waterloo's  success. 
"  I  have  brought  you  to  the  ring,  hop  (dance)  if  you  can,"  are  words 
of  rough  humour  that  reveal  the  very  soul  of  the  patriot  leader,  and 
the  serried  ranks  answered  well  to  his  appeal.  The  Bishop  of  Durham, 
who  led  the  En<?lish  van,  shrank  wisely  from  the  look  of  the  squares. 
"  Back  to  your  mass,  Bishop,"  shouted  the  reckless  knights  behind 
him,  but  the  body  of  horse  dashed  itself  vainly  on  the  wall  of  spears. 
Terror  spread  through  the  English  army,  and  its  Welsh  auxiliaries 
drew  off  in  a  body  from  the  field.  But  the  generalship  of  Wallace 
was  met  by  that  of  the  King.  Drawing  his  bowmen  to  the  front, 
Edward  riddled  the  Scottish  ranks  with  arrows,  and  then  hurled  his 
cavalry  afresh  on  the  wavering  line.  In  a  moment  all  was  over,  and 
the  maddened  knights  rode  in  and  out  of  the  broken  ranks,  slaying 
without  mercy.  Thousands  fell  on  the  field,  and  Wallace  himself 
escaped  with  difficulty,  followed  by  a  handful  of  men.  But  ruined  as 
the  cause  of  freedom  seemed,  his  work  was  done.  He  had  roused 
Scotland  into  life,  and  even  a  defeat  like  Falkirk  left  her  unconquered. 
Edward  remained  master  only  of  the  ground  he  stood  on  ;  want  of 
supplies  forced  him  to  retreat  ;  and  in  the  following  year  a  regency  of 
Scotch  nobles  under  Bruce  and  Comyn  continued  the  struggle  for 
independence.  Troubles  at  home  and  dangers  from  abroad  stayed 
Edward's  hand.  The  barons  were  pressing  more  and  more  vigorously 
for  redress  of  their  grievances  and  the  heavy  taxation  brought  about 
by  the  war.  France  was  still  menacing,  and  a  claim  advanced  by  Pope 
Boniface  the  Eighth,  at  its  suggestion,  to  the  feudal  superiority  over 
Scotland,  arrested  a  fresh  advance  of  the  King.  A  quarrel,  however, 
which  broke  out  between  Philippe  le  Bel  and  the  Papacy  removed  all 
obstacles,  and  enabled  Edward  to  defy  Boniface  and  to  wring  fro:n 
France  a  treaty  in  which  Scotland  was  abandoned.  In  1304  he 
resumed  the  work  of  invasion,  and  again  the  nobles  flung  down  their 
arms  as  he  marched  to  the  North.  Comyn,  at  the  head  of  the 
Regency,  acknowledged  his  sovereignty,  and  the  surrender  of  Stirling 
completed  the  conquest  of  Scotland.  The  triumph  of  Edward  was 
but  the  prelude  to  the  full  execution  of  his  desi^^ms  for  knitting  the  two 
countries  together  by  a  clemency  and  wisdom  which  reveal  the  great- 
ness of  his  statesmanship.     A  general  amnesty  was  extended  to  all 


nr.j 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


193 


who  had  shared  in  the  revolt.  Wallace,  who  refused  to  avail  himself 
of  Edward's  mercy,  was  captured,  and  condemned  to  death  at  West- 
minster on  charges  of  treason,  sacrilege,  and  ^'^bbery.  The  head  of 
the  great  patriot,  crowned  in  mojkery  with  a  circlet  of  laurel,  was 
placed  upon  London  Bridge.  But  the  execution  of  Wallace  was  the 
one  blot  on  Edward's  clemency.  With  a  masterly  boldness  he 
entrusted  the  government  of  the  country  to  a  council  of  Scotch  nobles, 
many  of  whom  were  freshly  pardoned  for  their  share  in  the  war,  and 
anticipated  the  policy  of  Cromwell  by  allotting  ten  representatives  to 
Scotland  in  the  Common  Parliament  of  his  realm.  A  Convocation 
was  summoned  at  Perth  for  the  election  of  these  representatives,  and 
a  great  judicial  scheme  which  was  promulgated  in  this  assembly 
adopted  the  amended  laws  of  King  David  as  the  base  of  a  new 
legislation,  and  divided  the  country  for  judicial  purposes  into  four 
districts,  Lothian,  Galloway,  the  Highlands,  and  the  land  between  the 
Highlands  and  the  Forth,  at  the  head  of  each  of  which  were  placed 
two  justiciars,  the  one  English  and  the  other  Scotch. 


Section  IV.— Tlie  English  Towns. 

[Aut/iorities. — For  the  general  history  of  London  see  its  "Liber  Albus" 
and  "Liber  Custumarum,"  in  the  series  of  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  ;  for  its 
communal  revolution,  the  "  Liber  de  Antiquis  Legibus,"  edited  by  Mr. 
Stapleton  for  the  Camden  Society  ;  for  the  rising  of  William  Longbeard,  the 
story  in  William  of  Newburgh.  In  his  "  Essay  on  English  Municipal  His- 
tory" (i8u7),  Mr.  Thompson  has  given  a  useful  account  of  the  relations  of 
Leicester  with  its  Earls.  A  great  store  of  documents  will  be  found  in  the 
Charter  Rolls  published  by  the  Record  Commission,  in  Brady's  work  on 
English  Boroughs,  and  (though  rather  for  Parliamentary  purposes)  in  Stephen's 
and  Merewether's  "  History  of  Boroughs  and  Corporations."  But  the  only 
full  and  scientific  examination  of  our  early  municipal  history,  at  least  on  one  of 
its  sides,  is  to  be  found  in  the  Essay  prefixed  by  Dr.  Brentano  to  the  "  Ordinances 
of  English  Gilds,"  published  by  the  Early  English  Text  Society.] 

From  scenes  such  as  we  have  been  describing,  from  the  wrong  and 
bloodshed  of  foreign  conquest,  we  pass  to  the  peaceful  life  and  progress 
of  England  itself 

Through  the  reign  of  the  three  Edwards  two  revolutions,  which  have 
been  almost  ignored  by  our  historians,  were  silently  changing  the 
whole  character  of  English  society.  The  first  of  these,  the  rise  of  a 
new  class  of  tenant-farmers,  we  shall  have  to  notice  hereafter  in  its 
connection  with  the  great  agrarian  revolt  which  bears  the  name  of 
Wat  Tyler.  The  second,  the  rise  of  the  craftsmen  within  our  towns, 
and  the  struggle  by  which  they  won  power  and  privilege  from  the 
oldr  •  burghers,  is  the  most  remarkable  event  in  the  period  of  our 
national  history  at  which  we  have  arrived. 


194 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CIIAP 


The  English  borough  was  originally  a  mere  township  or  group  of 
townships  whose  inhabitants  happened,  either  for  purposes  of  trade  or 
protection,  to  cluster  together  more  thickly  than  elsewhere.  It  is  this 
characteristic  of  our  boroughs  which  separates  them  at  once  from  the 
cities  of  Italy  and  Provence,  which  had  preserved  the  municipal  in- 
stitutions of  their  Roman  past,  from  the  German  towns  founded  by 
Henry  the  Fowler  with  the  special  purpose  of  sheltering  industry  from 
the  feudal  oppression  around  them,  or  from  the  communes  of  northern 
France  which  sprang  into  existence  in  revolt  against  feudal  outrage 
within  their  walls.  But  in  England  the  tradition  of  Rome  had  utterly 
passed  away,  while  feudal  oppression  was  held  fairly  in  check  by 
the  Crown.  The  English  town,  therefore,  was  in  its  beginning  simply 
a  piece  of  the  general  country,  organized  and  governed  precisely  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  townships  around  it.  The  burh  or  borough 
was  probably  a  more  defensible  place  than  the  common  village  ;  it 
may  have  had  a  ditch  or  mound  about  it  instead  of  the  quickset-hedge 
or  "  tun "  from  which  the  township  took  its  name.  But  its  con- 
stitution was  simply  that  of  the  people  at  large.  The  obligations 
of  the  dwellers  within  its  bounds  were  those  of  the  townships 
round,  to  keep  fente  and  trench  in  good  repair,  to  send  a  con- 
tingent to  the  fyrd,  and  a  reeve  and  four  men  to  the  hundred  court 
and  shire  court ;  and  the  inner  rule  of  the  borough  lay  as  in  the 
townships  about  in  the  hands  of  its  own  freemen,  gathered  in  "borough- 
moot  ''  or  "  portmannimote."  But  the  social  change  brought  about  by 
the  Danish  wars,  the  legal  requirement  that  each  man  should  have  a 
lord,  affected  the  towns,  as  it  affected  the  rest  of  the  country.  Some 
passed  into  the  hinds  of  great  thegns  near  to  them  ;  the  bulk  became 
known  as  in  the  demesne  of  the  king.  A  new  officer,  the  lord's  or 
king's  reeve,  was  a  sign  of  this  revolution.  It  was  the  reeve  who  now 
summoned  the  borough-moot  and  administered  justice  in  it ;  it  was  he 
who  collected  the  lord's  dues  or  annual  rent  of  the  town,  and  who 
exact«d  the  services  it  owed  to  its  lord.  To  modern  eyes  these 
services  would  imply  almost  complete  subjection.  When  Leicester, 
for  instance,  passed  from  the  hands  of  the  Conqueror  into  those  of  its 
Earls,  its  townsmen  were  bound  to  reap  their  lords  corn-crops,  to 
grind  at  his  mill,  to  redeem  their  strayed  cattle  from  his  pound.  The 
great  forest  around  was  the  Earl's,  and  it  was  only  out  of  his  grace 
that  the  little  borough  could  drive  its  swine  into  the  woods  or  pasture 
its  cattle  in  the  glades.  The  justice  and  government  of  the  town  lay 
wholly  in  its  master's  hands  ;  he  appointed  its  bailiffs,  received  the 
fines  and  forfeitures  of  his  tenants,  and  the  fees  and  tolls  of  their 
markets  and  fairs.  But  when  once  these  dues  were  paid  and  these 
services  rendered  the  English  townsman  was  practically  free.  His 
rights  were  as  rigidly  defined  by  custom  as  those  of  his  lord.  Property 
and  person  alike  were  secured  against  arbitrary  seizure.     He  could 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


195 


demand  a  fair  trial  on  any  charge,  and  even  if  justice  was  administered 
by  his  master's  reeve  it  was  administered  in  the  presence  and  with  the 
assent  of  his  fellow-townsmen.  The  bell  which  swung  out  from  the 
town  tower  gathered  the  burgesses  to  a  common  meeting,  where  they 
could  exercise  rights  of  free  speech  and  free  deliberation  on  their  own 
affairs.  Their  merchant-gild  over  its  ale-feast  regulated  trade,  distri- 
buted the  sums  due  from  the  town  among  the  different  burgesses, 
looked  to  the  due  repairs  of  gate  and  wall,  and  acted,  in  fact,  pretty 
much  the  same  part  as  a  town-council  of  to-day.  Not  only,  too,  were 
these  rights  secured  by  custom  from  the  first,  but  they  were  constantly 
widening  as  time  went  on.  Whenever  we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  inner 
history  of  an  English  town,  we  find  the  same  peaceful  revolution  in 
progress,  services  disappearing  through  disuse  or  omission,  while 
privileges  and  immunities  are  being  purchased  in  hard  cash.  The 
lord  of  the  town,  whether  he  were  king,  baron,  or  abbot,  was  commonly 
thriftless  or  poor,  and  the  capture  of  a  noble,  or  the  campaign  of  a 
sovereign,  or  the  building  of  some  new  minster  by  a  prior,  brought 
about  an  appeal  to  the  thrifty  burghers,  who  were  ready  to  fill  again 
their  master's  treasury  at  the  price  of  the  strip  of  parchment  which 
gave  them  freedom  of  trade,  of  justice,  and  of  government.  Some- 
times a  chance  story  lights  up  for  us  this  work  of  emancipation.  At 
Leicester  one  of  the  chief  aims  of  its  burgesses  was  to  regain  their  old 
English  trial  by  compurgation,  the  rough  predecessor  of  trial  by  jury, 
which  had  been  abolished  by  the  Earls  in  favour  of  the  foreign  trial 
by  battle.  "It  chanced,"  says  a  charter  of  the  place,  "  that  two  kins- 
men. Nicholas  the  son  of  Aeon,  and  Geoffrey  the  son  of  Nicholas, 
waged  a  duel  about  a  certain  piece  of  land,  concerning  which  a  dispute 
had  arisen  between  them  ;  and  they  fought  from  the  first  to  the  ninth 
hour,  each  conquering  by  turns.  Then  one  of  them  fleeing  from  the 
other  till  he  came  to  a  certain  little  pit,  as  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  the 
pit,  and  was  about  to  fall  therein,  his  kinsman  said  to  him  *  Take  care 
of  the  pit,  turn  back  lest  thou  shouldest  fall  into  it.'  Thereat  so  much 
clamour  and  noise  was  made  by  the  bystanders  and  those  who  were 
sitting  around,  that  the  Earl  heard  these  clamours  as  far  off  as  the 
castle,  and  he  inquired  of  some  how  it  was  there  was  such  a  clamour, 
and  answer  was  made  to  him  that  two  kinsmen  were  fighting  about  a 
certain  piece  of  ground,  and  that  one  had  fled  till  he  reached  a  certain 
little  pit,  and  that  as  he  stood  over  the  pit  and  was  about  to  fall  into  it 
the  other  warned  him.  Then  the  townsmen  being  moved  with  pity 
made  a  covenant  with  the  Earl  that  they  should  give  him  threepence 
yearly  for  each  house  in  the  High  Street  that  had  a  gable,  on  condi- 
tion that  he  should  grant  to  them  that  the  twenty-four  jurors  who  were 
in  Leicester  from  ancient  times  should  from  that  time  forward  discuss 
and  decide  all  pleas  they  might  have  among  themselves.''  For  the 
most  part  the  liberties  of  our  towns  wer*^  bought  in  this  way,  by  sheer 


196 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


hard  bargaining.  The  earliest  English  charters,  save  that  of  London, 
date  from  the  years  when  the  treasury  of  Henry  the  First  was  drained 
by  his  Norman  wars  ;  and  grants  of  municipal  liberty  made  professedly 
by  the  Angevins  are  probably  the  result  of  their  costly  employment  of 
mercenary  troops.  At  the  close,  however,  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
this  struggle  for  emancipation  was  nearly  over.  The  larger  towns  had 
secured  the  administration  of  justice  in  their  own  borough-courts,  the 
privilege  of  self-government,  and  the  control  of  their  own  trade,  and 
their  liberties  and  charters  served  as  models  and  incentives  to  the 
smaller  communities  which  were  struggling  into  life. 

During  the  progress  of  this  outer  revolution,  the  inner  life  of  the 
English  town  was  in  the  same  quiet  and  hardly  conscious  way  deve- 
loping itself  from  the  common  form  of  the  life  around  it  into  a  form 
especially  its  own.  Within  as  without  the  ditch  or  stockade  which 
formed  the  earliest  boundary  of  the  borough,  land  was  from  the  first  the 
test  of  freedom,  and  the  possession  of  land  was  what  constituted  the 
townsman.  We  may  take,  perhaps,  a  foreign  instance  to  illustrate  this 
fundamental  point  in  our  municipal  history.  When  Duke  Berthold  of 
Zahringen  resolved  to  found  Freiburg,  his  "free  town,''  in  the  Brisgau, 
the  mode  he  adopted  was  to  gather  a  group  of  traders  together,  and  to 
give  each  man  a  plot  of  ground  for  his  freehold  round  what  was  des- 
tined to  be  the  market-place  of  the  new  community.  In  England  the 
landless  man  who  dwelled  in  a  borough  had  no  share  in  its  corix)rate 
life  ;  for  purposes  of  government  or  property  the  town  was  simply 
an  association  of  the  landed  proprietors  within  its  bounds  ;  nor  was 
there  anything  in  this  association,  as  it  originally  existed,  which  could 
be  considered  peculiar  or  exceptional.  The  constitution  of  the  English 
town,  however  different  its  form  may  have  afterwards  become,  was  at 
first  simply  that  of  the  people  at  large.  We  have  seen  that  among  the 
German  races  society  rested  on  the  basis  of  the  family,  that  it  was  the 
family  who  fought  and  settled  side  by  side,  and  the  kinsfolk  who  were 
bound  together  in  ties  of  mutual  responsibility  to  each  other  and  to  the 
law.  As  society  became  more  complex  and  less  stationary  it  neces- 
sarily outgrew  these  simple  ties  of  blood,  and  in  England  this  dissolu- 
tion of  the  family  bond  seems  to  have  taken  place  at  the  ver)'  time 
when  Danish  incursions  and  the  growth  of  a  feudal  temper  among  the 
nobles  rendered  an  isolated  existence  most  perilous  for  the  freeman. 
His  only  resource  was  to  seek  protection  among  his  fellow-freemen, 
and  to  replace  the  older  brotherhood  of  the  kinsfolk  by  a  voluntary 
association  of  his  neighbours  for  the  same  purposes  of  order  and  self- 
defence.  The  tendency  to  unite  in  such  'frith-gilds'  or  peace-clubs 
became  general  throughout  luirope  during  the  ninth  and  tenth  centu- 
ries, but  on  the  Continent  it  was  roughly  met  and  repressed.  The 
successors  of  Charles  the  (ireat  enacted  penalties  of  scourging,  ncse- 
slitting,  and  banishment  against  voluntary  unions,  and  even  a  Icaf^ue 


iv.l 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


197 


of  the  poor  peasants  of  Gaul  against  the  inroads  of  the  northmen  was 
suppressed  by  the  swords  of  the  Frankish  nobles.  In  England  the 
attitude  of  the  Kings  was  utterly  different.  The  system  known  at  a  later 
time  as  '  frank-pledge/  or  free  engagement  of  neighboui  for  neighbour, 
was  accepted  after  the  Danish  wars  as  the  base  of  social  order.  .(Alfred 
recognized  the  common  responsibility  of  the  members  of  the  *  frith- 
gild  '  side  by  side  with  that  of  the  kinsfolk,  and  AZthelstan  accepted 
'frith-gilds*  as  a  constituent  element  of  borough  life  in  the  Dooms 
of  London. 

The  frith-gild,  then,  in  the  earlie'*  English  town,  was  precisely  similar 
to  the  frith-gilds  which  formed  the  basis  of  social  order  in  the  country 
at  large.  An  oath  of  mutual  fideli:y  among  its  members  was  substituted 
for  the  tie  of  blood,  while  the  gild-feast  held  once  a  month  in  the 
common  hall,  replaced  the  gathering  of  the  kinsfolk  round  their  family 
hearth.  But  within  this  new  family  the  aim  of  the  frith-gild  was  to 
establish  a  mutual  responsibility  as  close  as  that  of  the  old.  "  Let  all 
share  the  same  lot,"  ran  its  law;  "if  any  misdo,  let  all  bear  it."  A 
member  could  look  for  aid  from  his  gild-brothers  in  atoning  for  any 
guilt  incurred  by  mishap.  He  could  call  on  them  for  assistance  in  case 
of  violence  or  wrong  :  if  falsely  accused,  they  appeared  in  court  as  his 
compurgators  ;  if  poor  they  supported,  and  when  dead  they  buried  him. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  was  responsible  to  them,  as  they  were  to  the 
State,  for  order  and  obedience  to  the  laws.  A  wrong  of  brother  against 
brother  was  also  a  wrong  against  the  general  body  of  the  gild,  and  was 
punished  by  fine,  or  in  the  last  resort  by  expulsion,  which  left  the 
offender  a  *  lawless '  man  and  an  outcast.  The  one  difference  between 
these  gilds  in  country  and  town  was,  that  in  the  latter  case,  from  their 
close  local  neighbourhood,  they  tended  inevitably  to  coalesce.  Under 
yCthelstan  the  London  gilds  united  into  one  for  the  purpose  of  carrying 
out  more  effectually  their  common  aims,  and  at  a  later  time  we  find  the 
gilds  of  Berwick  enacting  "  that  where  many  bodies  are  found  side  by 
side  in  one  place  they  may  become  one,  and  have  one  will,  and  in  the 
dealings  of  one  with  another  have  a  strong  and  hearty  love."  The 
process  was  probably  a  long  and  difficult  one,  for  the  brotherhoods 
naturally  differed  much  in  social  rank,  and  even  after  the  union  was 
effected  we  see  traces  of  the  separate  existence  to  a  certain  extent 
of  some  one  or  more  of  the  wealthier  or  more  aristocratic  gilds.  In 
London,  for  instance,  the  Cnihten-gild,  which  seems  to  have  stood  at 
the  head  of  its  fellows,  retained  for  a  long  time  its  separate  property, 
while  its  Alderman — as  the  chief  officer  of  each  gild  was  called — 
became  the  Alderman  of  the  united  gild  ol  the  whole  city.  In  Canter- 
bury we  find  a  similar  gild  of  tKegns,  from  which  the  chief  officers  of 
the  town  seem  commonly  to  have  been  selected.  Imperfect,  however, 
ds  the  union  might  he,  when  once  it  was  effected  the  town  passed  from 
a  mere  collection  of  brotherhoods  mto  a  powerful  and  organized  com- 


Sec.  VL 

The 

English 
TcwNt 


The 

Merclumt 

Gilds 


198 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


munity,  whose  character  was  inevitably  determined  by  the  circum- 
stances of  its  origin.  In  their  beginnings  our  boroughs  seem  to  have 
been  mainly  gatherings  of  persons  engaged  in  agricultural  pursuits ; 
the  first  Dooms  of  London  provide  especially  for  the  recovery  of  cattle 
belonging  to  the  citizens.  But  as  the  increasing  secui  ity  of  the  country 
invited  the  farmer  or  the  squire  to  settle  apart  in  his  own  fields,  and 
the  growth  of  estate  and  trade  told  on  the  towns  themselves,  the 
difference  between  town  and  country  became  more  sharply  defined. 
London,  of  course,  took  the  lead  in  this  new  developement  of  civic  life. 
Even  in  ^thelstan's  day  every  London  merchant  who  had  made  three 
long  voyages  on  his  own  account  ranked  as  a  thegn.  Its  'liihsmen,' 
or  shipmen's-gild,  were  of  sufficient  importance  under  Harthacnut  to 
figure  in  the  election  of  a  king,  and  its  principal  street  still  tells  of  the 
rapid  growth  of  trade,  in  the  name  of  *  Cheap-side,'  or  the  bargaining 
place.  But  at  the  Norman  Conquest  the  commercial  tendency  had 
become  universal.  The  name  given  to  the  united  brotherhood  is  in 
almost  every  case  no  longer  that  of  the  'town-gild,'  but  of  the 
*  merchant-gild.' 

This  social  change  in  the  character  of  the  townsmen  produced 
important  results  in  the  character  of  their  municipal  institutions. 
In  becoming  a  merchant-gild  the  body  of  citizens  who  formed  the 
'  town '  enlarged  their  powers  of  civic  legislation  by  applying  them  to  the 
control  of  their  internal  trade.  It  became  their  special  business  to  obtain 
from  the  Crown,  or  from  their  lords,  wider  commercial  privileges,  rights 
of  coinage,  grants  of  fairs,  and  exemption  from  tolls  ;  while  within  the 
town  itself  they  framed  regulations  as  to  the  sale  and  quality  of  goods, 
the  control  of  markets,  and  the  recovery  of  debts.  A  yet  more  important 
result  sprang  from  the  increase  of  population  which  the  growth  of 
wealth  and  industry  brought  with  it.  The  mass  of  the  new  settlers,  com- 
posed as  they  were  of  escaped  serfs,  of  traders  without  landed  holdings, 
of  families  who  had  lost  their  original  lot  in  the  borough,  and  generally 
of  the  artisans  and  the  poor,  had  no  part  in  the  actual  life  of  the  town. 
The  right  of  trade  and  of  the  regulation  of  trade,  in  common  with  all 
other  forms  of  jurisdiction,  lay  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  landed 
burghers  whom  we  have  described.  By  a  natural  process,  too,  their 
superiority  in  wealth  produced  a  fresh  division  between  the '  burghers  'o^ 
the  merchant-gild  and  the  unenfranchised  mass  around  them.  The  same 
change  which  severed  at  Florence  the  seven  Greater  Arts,  or  trades, 
from  the  fourteen  Lesser  Arts,  and  which  raised  the  three  occupations 
of  banking,  the  manufacture  and  the  dyeing  of  cloth,  to  a  position  of 
superiority  even  within  the  privilegec^  circle  of  the  seven,  told,  though 
with  less  force,  on  the  English  boroughs.  The  burghers  of  the  merchant 
gild  gradually  concentrated  themselves  on  the  greater  operations  of 
commcrcQ,  on  trades  which  required  a  larger  capital,  while  the  meaner 
employments  of  general  traffic  were  abandoned  to  their  poorer  neigh- 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


199 


hours.  This  advance  in  the  division  of  labour  is  marked  by  such 
severances  as  we  note  in  the  thirteenth  century  of  the  cloth  merchant 
from  the  tailor,  or  the  leather  merchant  from  the  butcher.  But  the 
result  of  this  severance  was  all-important  in  its  influence  on  the  consti- 
tution of  our  towns.  The  members  of  the  trades  thus  abandoned  by 
the  wealthier  burghers  formed  themselves  into  Craft-gilds,  which  soon 
rose  into  dangerous  rivalry  with  the  original  Merchant-gild  of  the  town. 
A  seven  years'  apprenticeship  formed  the  necessary  prelude  to  full 
membership  of  any  trade-gild.  Their  regulations  were  of  the  minutest 
character  ;  the  quality  and  value  of  work  was  rigidly  prescribed,  the 
hours  of  toil  fixed  "  from  day-break  to  curfew,"  and  strict  provision 
made  against  competition  in  labour.  At  each  meeting  of  these  gilds 
their  members  gathered  round  the  Craft-box,  which  contained  the 
rules  of  their  Society,  and  stood  with  bared  heads  as  it  was  opened. 
The  warden  and  a  quorum  of  gild-brothers  formed  a  court  which 
enforced  the  ordinances  of  the  gild,  inspected  all  work  done  by  its 
members,  confiscated  unlawful  tools  or  unworthy  goods  ;  and  dis- 
obedience to  their  orders  was  punished  by  fines,  or  in  the  last  resort 
by  expulsion,  which  involved  the  loss  of  right  to  trade.  A  common 
fund  was  raised  by  contributions  among  the  members,  which  not  only 
provided  for  the  trade  objects  of  the  gild,  but  sufficed  to  found 
chantries  and  masses,  and  set  up  painted  windows  in  the  church  of 
their  patron  saint.  Even  at  the  present  day  the  arms  of  the  craft-gild 
may  often  be  seen  blazoned  in  cathedrals  side  by  side  with  those  of 
prelates  and  of  kings.  But  it  was  only  by  slow  degrees  that  they  rose 
to  such  a  height  as  this.  The  first  steps  in  their  existence  were  the 
most  difficult,  for  to  enable  a  trade-gild  to  carry  out  its  objects  with 
any  success,  it  was  first  necessary  that  the  whole  body  of  craftsmen 
belonging  to  the  trade  should  be  compelled  to  belong  to  it,  and 
secondly,  that  a  legal  control  over  the  trade  itself  should  be  secured 
to  it.  A  royal  charter  was  indispensable  for  these  purposes,  and  over 
the  grant  of  these  charters  took  place  the  first  struggle  with  the 
merchant  gild,  which  had  till  then  solely  exercised  jurisdiction  over 
trade  within  the  boroughs.  The  weavers,  who  were  the  first  trade- 
gild  to  secure  royal  sanction  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  First,  were  still 
engaged  in  the  contest  for  existence  as  late  as  the  reign  of  John,  when 
the  citizens  of  London  bought  for  a  time  the  suppression  of  their 
gild.  Even  under  the  house  of  Lancaster,  Exeter  was  engaged  in 
resisting  the  establishment  of  a  tailors'  gild.  From  the  eleventh 
century,  however,  the  spread  of  these  societies  went  steadily  on, 
and  the  control  of  trade  passed  from  the  merchant-gilds  to  the 
craft-gilds. 

It  is  this  struggle,  to  use  the  technical  terms  of  the  time,  of  the 
"greater  folk "  against  the  "lesser  folk,"  or  of  the  "commune,"  the 
general  mass  of  the  inhabitants,  against  the  "  prudhommes,"  or  "  wiser  " 


aoo 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


few,  which  brought  about,  as  it  passed  from  the  regulation  of  trade  td 
the  general  government  of  the  town,  the  great  civic  revolution  of  the 
thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries.  On  the  Continent,  and  especially 
along  the  Rhine,  the  struggle  was  as  fierce  as  the  supremacy  of  the 
older  burghers  had  been  complete.  In  Koln  the  craftsmen  had  been 
reduced  to  all  but  serfage,  and  the  merchant  of  Brussels  might  box  at 
his  will  the  ears  of  "  the  man  without  heart  or  honour  who  lives  by  his 
toil."  Such  social  tyranny  of  class  over  class  brought  a  century  of 
bloodshed  to  the  cities  of  Germany  ;  but  in  England  the  tyranny  of 
class  over  class  had  been  restrained  by  the  general  tenor  of  the  law, 
and  the  revolution  took  for  the  most  part  a  milder  form.  The  longest 
and  bitterest  strife  of  all  was  naturally  at  London.  Nowhere  had  the 
territorial  constitution  struck  root  so  deeply,  and  nowhere  had  the 
landed  oligarchy  risen  lo  such  a  height  of  wealth  and  influence.  The 
city  was  divided  into  wards,  each  of  which  was  governed  by  an  alder- 
man drawn  from  the  ruling  class.  In  some,  indeed,  the  office  seems 
to  have  become  hereditary.  The  "  magnates,"  or  "  barons,"  of  the 
merchant-gild  advised  alone  on  all  matters  of  civic  government  or 
trade  regulation,  and  distributed  or  assessed  at  their  will  the  revenues 
or  burthens  of  the  town.  Such  a  position  afforded  an  opening  for  cor- 
ruption and  oppression  of  the  most  galling  kind  ;  and  it  seems  to  have 
been  the  general  impression  of  the  unfair  assessment  levied  on  the 
poor,  and  the  undue  burthens  which  were  thrown  on  the  unenfranchised 
classes,  which  provoked  the  first  serious  discontent.  William  of  the 
Long  Beard,  himself  one  of  the  governing  body,  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  conspiracy  which  numbered,  in  the  terrified  fancy  of  the 
burghers,  fifty  thousand  of  the  craftsmen.  His  eloquence,  his  bold 
defiance  of  the  aldermen  in  the  town-mote,  gained  him  at  any  rate  a 
wide  popularity,  and  the  erowds  who  surrounded  him  hailed  him  as 
"  the  saviour  of  the  poor."  One  of  his  addresses  is  luckily  preserved  to 
us  by  a  hearer  of  the  time.  In  mediaeval  fashion  he  began  with  a  text 
from  the  Vulgate, "  Ye  shall  draw  water  with  joy  from  the  fountain  of  the 
Saviour."  "  I,"  he  began,  "  am  the  saviour  of  the  poor.  "^'^e  poor  men 
who  have  felt  the  weight  of  rich  men's  hands,  draw  from  my  fountain 
waters  of  wholesome  instruction  and  that  with  joy,  for  the  time  of  your 
visitation  is  at  hand.  For  I  will  divide  the  waters  from  the  waters.  It 
is  the  people  who  are  the  waters,  and  I  will  divide  the  lowly  and  faithful 
folk  from  the  proud  and  faithless  folk  ;  I  will  part  the  chosen  from  the 
reprobate  as  light  from  darkness."  But  it  was  in  vain  that  b)  appeals 
to  the  King  he  strove  to  win  royal  favour  for  the  popular  cause.  The 
support  of  the  moneyed  classes  was  essential  to  Richard  in  the  costly 
wars  with  Philip  of  France,  and  the  Justiciar,  Archbishop  Hubert, 
after  a  moment  of  hesitation,  issued  orders  for  his  arrest  William 
felled  with  an  axe  the  first  soldier  who  advanced  to  seize  him, 
ju^.d  taking  refuge  with  a  few  followers  in  the  tower  of  St.  Mary-Ic- 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


201 


Bow,  summoned  his  adherents  to  rise.  Hubert,  however,  who  had 
already  flooded  the  city  with  troops,  with  bold  contempt  of  the 
right  of  sanctuary,  set  fire  to  the  tower  and  forced  William  to 
surrender.  A  burgher's  son,  whose  father  he  had  slain,  stabbed  him 
as  he  came  forth,  and  with  his  death  the  quarrel  slumbered  for  more 
than  fifty  years. 

No  further  movement,  in  fact,  took  place  till  the  outbreak  of  the 
Barons'  war,  but  the  city  had  all  through  the  interval  been  seething 
with  discontent  ;  the  unenfranchised  craftsmen,  under  prete  t  of  preser- 
ving the  peace,  had  united  in  secret  frith-gilds  of  their  own,  and  mobs 
rose  from  time  to  time  to  sack  the  houses  of  foreigners  and  the  wealthier 
burghers.  But  it  was  not  till  the  civil  war  began  that  the  open  contest 
recommenced.  The  craftsmen  forced  their  way  into  the  town-mote,  and 
setting  aside  the  aldermen  and  magnates,  chose  Thomas  Fitz-Thomas 
for  their  mayor.  Although  dissension  still  raged  during  the  reign  of 
the  second  Edward,  we  may  regard  this  election  as  marking  the  final 
victory  of  the  craft-gilds.  Under  his  successor  all  contest  seems  to 
have  ceased  :  charters  had  been  granted  to  every  trade,  their  ordinances 
formally  recognized  and  enrolled  in  the  mayor's  court,  and  distinctive 
liveries  assumed  to  which  they  owed  the  name  of  "Livery  Companies" 
which  they  still  retain.  The  wealthier  citizens,  who  found  their  old 
power  broken,  regained  influence  by  enrolling  themselves  as  members 
of  the  trade-gilds,  and  Edward  the  Third  himself  humoured  the 
current  of  civic  feeling  by  becoming  a  member  of  the  gild  of  Armour- 
ers. This  event  marks  the  time  when  the  government  of  our  towns 
had  become  more  really  popular  than  it  ever  again  became  till  the 
Municipal  Reform  Act  of  our  own  days.  It  had  passed  from  the 
hands  of  an  oligarchy  into  those  of  the  middle  classes,  and  there  was 
nothing  as  yet  to  foretell  the  reactionary  revolution  by  which  the 
trade-gilds  themselves  became  an  obligarchy  as  narrow  as  that  which 
they  had  deposed. 


Section  V.— The  King  and  the  Baronage,  1290— 1327. 

[Authorities. — For  Edward  I.  as  before.  For  Edward  H.  we  have  three 
important  contemporaries  :  on  the  King's  side,  Thomas  de  la  More  (in  Camden, 
"Anglica,  Brittanica,  etc.");  on  that  of  the  Barons,  Trokelowe's  Annals 
^published  by  the  Master  of  the  Rolls),  and  the  Life  by  a  monk  of  Malmes- 
bury,  printed  by  Hearne.  The  short  Chronicle  by  Murimuth  is  also  contem- 
porary in  date.  Hallam  ("Middle  Ages")  has  illustrated  the  constitutional 
Aspect  of  the  time.] 

If  we  turn  again  to  the  constitutional  history  of  England  from  the 
accession  of  Edward  the  First  we  find  a  progress  not  less  real  but 
chequered  with  darker  vicissitudes  than  the  progress  of  our  towns, 
;\  great  transfer  of  power  had  been  brought  about  by  the  long  struggle 


2Q2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAI*. 


for  the  Charter,  by  the  reforms  of  Earl  Simon,  and  by  the  earlier 
legislation  of  Edward  himself.  His  conception  of  kingship  indeed  was 
that  of  a  just  and  religious  Henry  the  Second,  but  his  England  was  as 
different  from  the  England  of  Henry  as  the  Parliament  of  the  one  was 
different  from  the  Great  Council  of  the  other.  In  the  rough  rimes  of 
Robert  of  Gloucester  we  read  the  simple  political  creed  of  the  people 
at  large. 

•*  When  the  land  through  God's  grace  to  good  peace  was  broughf 
For  to  have  the  old  laws  the  high  men  turned  their  thought : 
For  to  have,  as  we  said  erst,  the  good  old  Law, 
The  King  made  his  charter  and  granted  it  with  sawe." 
But  the  power  which  the  Charter  had  wrested  from  the  Crown  fell  not 
to  the  people  but  to  the  Baronage.  The  farmer  and  the  artisan,  though 
they  could  fight  in  some  great  crisis  for  freedom,  had  as  yet  no  wish  to 
interfere  in  the  common  task  of  government  The  vast  industrial 
change  in  both  town  and  country,  which  had  begun  during  the  reign 
of  Henry  the  Third,  and  which  continued  with  increasing  force  during 
that  of  his  son,  absorbed  the  energy  and  attention  of  the  trading 
classes.  In  agriculture,  the  inclosure  of  common  lands  and  the  intro- 
duction of  the  system  of  leases  on  the  part  of  the  great  proprietors, 
coupled  with  the  subdivision  of  estates  which  was  facilitated  by 
Edward's  legislation,  was  gradually  creating  out  of  the  masses  of  rural 
bondsmen  a  new  class  of  tenant  farmers,  whose  whole  energy  was 
absorbed  in  their  own  great  rise  to  social  freedom.  The  very  causes 
which  rendered  the  growth  of  municipal  liberty  so  difficult,  increased 
the  wealth  of  the  towns.  To  the  trade  with  Norway  and  the  Hanse 
towns  of  North  Germany,  the  wool-trade  with  Flanders,  and  the  wine 
trade  with  Gascony,  was  now  added  a  fast  increasing  commerce  with 
Italy  and  Spain.  The  great  Venetian  merchant  galleys  appeared  on 
the  English  coast,  Florentine  traders  settled  in  the  southern  ports, 
the  bankers  of  Florence  and  Lucca  followed  those  of  Cahors,  who  had 
already  dealt  a  death-blow  to  the  usury  of  the  Jews.  But  the  wealth 
and  industrial  energy  of  the  country  was  shown,  not  only  in  the  rise  of 
a  capitalist  class,  but  in  a  crowd  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  buildings 
which  distinguished  this  period.  Christian  architecture  reached  its 
highest  beauty  in  the  opening  of  Edward's  reign,  a  period  marked  by 
the  completion  of  the  abbey  church  of  Westminster  and  the  exquisite 
cathedral  church  at  Salisbury.  An  English  noble  was  proud  to  be 
styled  "  an  incomparable  builder,"  while  some  traces  of  the  art  which 
was  rising  across  the  Alps  perhaps  flowed  in  with  the  Italian  ecclesi- 
astics whom  the  Papacy  was  forcing  on  the  English  Church.  In  tlie 
abbey  of  Westminster  the  shrine  of  the  Confessor,  the  mosaic  pave- 
ment, and  the  paintings  on  the  walls  of  minster  and  chapter-house, 
remind  us  of  the  schools  which  were  springing  up  under  Giotto  and 
the  Pisans, 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


203 


But  even  had  this  industrial  distraction  been  wanting  the  trading 
classes  had  no  mind  to  claim  any  direct  part  in  the  actual  work  of 
government.  It  was  a  work  which,  in  default  of  the  Crown,  fell  naturally, 
according  to  the  ideas  of  the  time,  to  the  Baronage.  Constitutionally 
the  position  of  the  English  nobles  had  now  become  established.  A 
King  could  no  longer  make  laws  or  levy  taxes  or  even  make  war 
without  their  assent.  And  in  the  Baronage  the  nation  reposed  an  un- 
wavering trust.  The  nobles  of  England  were  no  more  the  brutal 
foreigners  from  whose  violence  the  strong  hand  of  a  Norman  ruler  had 
been  needed  to  protect  his  subjects  ;  they  were  as  English  as  the 
peasant  or  the  trader.  They  had  won  English  liberty  by  their  swords, 
and  the  tradition  of  their  order  bound  them  to  look  on  themselves  as 
its  natural  guardians.  At  the  close  of  the  Barons'  war,  the  problem 
which  had  so  long  troubled  the  realm,  the  problem  of  how  to  ensure 
its  government  in  accordance  with  the  Charter,  was  solved  by  the 
transfer  of  the  business  of  administration  into  the  hands  of  a  standing 
committee  of  the  greater  prelates  and  barons,  acting  as  chief  officers 
of  state  in  conjimction  with  specially  appointed  ministers  of  the  Crown. 
The  body  thus  composed  was  known  as  the  Continual  Council ;  and 
the  quiet  government  of  the  kingdom  by  the  Council  in  the  long  interval 
between  the  death  of  Henry  the  Third  and  his  son's  return  shows  how 
effective  this  rule  of  the  nobles  was.  It  is  significant  of  the  new 
relation  which  they  were  to  strive  to  establish  between  themselves  and 
the  Crown  that  in  the  brief  which  announced  Edward's  accession  the 
Council  asserted  that  the  new  monarch  mounted  his  throne  "  by  the 
will  of  the  peers."  The  very  form  indeed  of  the  new  Parliament,  in 
which  the  barons  were  backed  by  the  knights  of  the  shire,  elected  for 
the  most  part  under  their  influence,  and  by  the  representatives  of  the 
towns,  still  true  to  the  traditions  of  the  Barons'  war ;  the  increased 
frequency  of  these  Parliamentary  assemblies  which  gave  opportunity 
for  counsel,  for  party  organization,  and  a  distinct  political  base  of 
action  ;  above  all,  the  new  financial  power  which  their  control  over 
taxation  enabled  them  to  exert  on  the  throne,  ultimately  placed  the 
rule  of  the  nobles  on  a  basis  too  strong  to  be  shaken  by  the  utmost 
efforts  of  even  Edward  himself. 

From  the  first  the  King  struggled  fruitlessly  against  this  overpower- 
ing influence ;  and  his  sympathies  must  have  been  stirred  by  the 
revolution  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel,  where  the  French  kings 
were  crushing  the  power  of  the  feudal  baronage,  and  erecting  a  royal 
despotism  on  its  ruins.  Edward  watched  jealously  over  the  ground 
which  the  Crown  had  already  gained  against  the  nobles.  Following 
the  policy  of  Henry  II.,  at  the  very  outset  of  his  reign  he  instituted  a 
commission  of  enquiry  into  the  judicial  franchises  still  existing,  and 
on  its  report  itinerant  justices  were  sent  to  discover  by  what  right 
these   franchises    were   held.      The   writs   of    "quo  warranto"  were 


SbcV. 
The  Kins 

AND   THE 

Baronacb 
1290 

TO 

1327 

The 

Baronagre 

and  its 

rule 


I«aw 

and  the 

Baronaee 


1278 


204 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


roughly  met  here  and  there.  Earl  Warenne  bared  a  rusty  sword,  and 
flung  it  on  the  justices'  table.  "  This,  sirs,"  he  said,  "  is  my  warrant 
By  the  sword  our  fathers  won  their  lands  when  they  came  over  with 
the  Conqueror,  and  by  the  sword  we  will  keep  them."  But  the  King 
was  far  from  limiting  himself  to  the  plans  of  Henry  II. ;  he  aimed 
further  at  neutralizing  the  power  of  the  nobles  by  raising  the  whole 
body  of  landowners  to  the  same  level  ;  and  a  royal  writ  ordered  all 
freeholders  who  held  land  of  the  value  of  twenty  pounds  to  receive 
knighthood  at  the  King's  hands.  While  the  political  influence  of 
the  baronage  as  a  leading  element  in  the  nation  mounted,  in  fact, 
the  personal  and  purely  feudal  power  of  each  individual  on  his 
estates  as  steadily  fell.  The  hold  which  the  Crown  had  gained 
on  every  noble  family  by  its  rights  of  wardship  and  marriage,  the 
circuits  of  the  royal  judges,  the  ever  narrowing  bounds  within  which 
baronial  justice  was  circumscribed,  the  blow  dealt  by  scutage  at  their 
military  power,  the  prompt  intervention  of  the  Council  in  their  feuds, 
lowered  the  nobles  more  and  more  to  the  level  of  their  fellow  subjects. 
Much  yet  remained  to  be  done.  Different  as  the  English  baronage, 
taken  as  a  whole,  was  from  a  feudal  noblesse  like  that  of  Germany  or 
France,  there  is  in  every  military  class  a  natural  drift  towards  violence 
and  lawlessness,  which  even  the  stem  justice  of  Edward  found  it 
difficult  to  repress.  Throughout  his  reign  his  strong  hand  was  needed 
to  enforce  order  on  warring  nobles.  Great  earls,  such  as  those  of 
Gloucester  and  Hereford,  carried  on  private  war  ;  in  Shropshire  the 
Earl  of  Arundel  waged  his  feud  with  Fulk  Fitz  Warine.  To  the  lesser 
and  poorer  nobles  the  wealth  of  the  trader,  the  long  wain  of  goods  as  it 
passed  along  the  highway,  was  a  tempting  prey.  Gnce,  under  cover  of 
a  mock  tournament  of  monks  against  canons,  a  band  of  countr>' 
gentlemen  succeeded  in  introducing  themselves  into  the  great 
merchant  fair  at  Boston ;  at  nightfall  every  booth  was  on  fire,  the 
merchants  robbed  and  slaughtered,  and  the  booty  carried  off  to  ships 
which  lay  ready  at  the  quay.  Streams  of  gold  and  silver,  ran  the  tale 
of  popular  horror,  flowed  melted  down  the  gutters  to  the  sea  ;  "  all  the 
money  in  England  could  hardly  make  good  the  loss."  Even  at  the 
close  of  Edward's  reign  lawless  bands  of  "  trail-bastons,*'  or  club-men, 
maintained  themselves  by  general  outrage,  aided  the  country  nobles  in 
their  feuds,  and  wrested  money  and  goods  by  threats  from  the  great 
tradesmen.  The  King  was  strong  enough  to  fine  and  imprison  the 
Earls,  to  hang  the  chief  of  the  Bosf.on  marauders,  and  to  suppress  the 
outlaws  by  rigorous  commissions.  During  Edward's  absence  of  three 
years  from  the  realm,  the  judges,  who  were  themselves  drawn  from 
the  lesser  baronage,  were  charged  with  violence  and  corruption.  After  a 
careful  investigation  the  judicial  abuses  were  recognized  and  amended  ; 
two  of  the  chief  justices  were  banished  from  the  country,  and  their 
colleagues  imprisoned  and  fined. 


fv.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


20S 


The  next  year  saw  a  step  which  remains  the  great  blot  upon  Edward's 
reign.  Under  the  Angevins  the  popular  hatred  of  the  Jews  had  grown 
rapidly  in  intensity.  But  the  royal  protection  had  never  wavered. 
Henry  the  Second  had  granted  them  the  right  of  burial  outside  of 
every  city  where  they  dwelt.  Richard  had  punished  heavily  a  massacre 
of  the  Jews  at  York,  and  organized  a  mixed  court  of  Jews  and  Christians 
for  the  registration  of  their  contracts.  John  suffered  none  to  plunder 
them  save  himself,  though  he  once  wrested  from  them  a  sum  equal  to 
a  year's  revenue  of  his  realm.  The  troubles  of  the  next  reign  brought 
in  a  harvest  greater  than  even  the  royal  greed  could  reap  ;  the  Jews 
grew  wealthy  enough  to  acquire  estates,  and  only  a  burst  of  popular 
feeling  prevented  a  legal  decision  which  would  have  enabled  them  to 
own  freeholds.  Their  pride  and  contempt  of  the  superstitions  around 
them  broke  out  in  the  taunts  they  levelled  at  processions  as  they 
passed  their  Jewries,  sometimes  as  at  Oxford  in  actual  attacks  upon 
them.  Wild  stories  floated  about  among  the  people  of  children  carried 
off  to  Jewish  houses,  to  be  circumcised  or  crucified,  and  a  boy  of 
Lincoln  who  was  found  slain  in  a  Jewish  house  was  canonized  by 
popular  reverence  as  "  St.  Hugh."  The  first  work  of  the  Friars  was  to 
settle  in  the  Hebrew  quarters  and  attempt  their  conversion,  but  the 
tide  of  popular  fury  rose  too  fast  for  these  gentler  means  of  recon- 
ciliation. When  the  Franciscans  saved  seventy  Jews  from  death  by 
their  prayers  to  Henry  the  Third  the  populace  angrily  refused  the 
brethren  alms.  The  sack  of  Jewry  after  Jewry  was  the  sign  of  popular 
hatred  during  the  Barons'  war.  With  its  close,  fell  on  the  Jews  the 
more  terrible  persecution  of  the  law.  Statute  after  statute  hemmed 
them  in.  They  were  forbidden  to  hold  real  property,  to  employ 
Christian  servants,  to  move  through  the  streets  without  the  two  white 
tablets  of  wool  on  their  breasts  which  distinguished  their  race.  They 
were  prohibited  from  building  new  synagogues,  or  eating  with  Chris- 
tians, or  acting  as  physicians  to  them.  Their  trade,  already  crippled  by 
the  rivalry  of  the  bankers  of  Cahors,  was  annihilated  by  a  royal  order, 
which  bade  them  renounce  usury  under  pain  of  death.  At  last  perse- 
cution could  do  no  more,  and  on  the  eve  of  his  struggle  with  Scotland, 
Edward,  eager  at  the  moment  to  find  supplies  for  his  treasury,  and 
himself  swayed  by  the  fanaticism  of  his  subjects,  bought  the  grant  of 
a  fifteenth  from  clergy  and  laity  by  consenting  to  drive  the  Jews  from 
his  realm.  Of  the  sixteen  thousand  who  preferred  exile  to  apostasy 
few  reached  the  shores  of  France.  Many  were  wrecked,  others  robbed 
and  flung  overboard.  One  shipmaster  turned  out  a  crew  of  wealthy 
merchants  on  to  a  sandbank,  and  bade  them  call  a  new  Moses  to  save 
them  from  the  sea.  From  the  time  of  Edward  to  that  of  Cromwell  no 
Jew  touched  English  ground. 

No  share  in  the  enormities  which  accompanied  the  expulsion  of  the 
Jews  can  ^all  upon  Edward,  for  he  not  only  suffered  the  fugitives  to 


206 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


take  their  wealth  with  them,  but  punished  with  the  haher  thoce  who 
plundered  them  at  sea.  But  the  expulsion  was  none  the  less  cruel,  and 
the  grant  of  a  fifteenth  made  by  the  grateful  Parliament  proved  but  a 
poor  substitute  for  the  loss  which  the  royal  treasury  hau  sustained. 
The  Scotch  war  more  than  exhausted  the  aids  granted  by  the  Parlia- 
ment. The  treasury  was  utterly  drained  ;  the  costly  fijjht  with  the 
French  in  Gascony  called  for  supplies,  while  the  King  was  planning  a 
yet  costlier  attack  on  northern  France  with  the  aid  of  Flanders.  It 
was  sheer  want  which  drove  Edward  to  tyrannous  extortion.  His  first 
blow  fell  on  the  Church  ;  he  had  already  demanded  hilf  their  annual 
income  from  the  clergy,  and  so  terrible  was  his  wrath  at  their  resist- 
ance, that  the  Ue  m  of  St.  Paul's,  who  had  stood  forth  to  remonstrate, 
dropped  dead  of  sheer  terror  at  his  feet.  "  If  any  oppose  the  King's 
demand,"  said  a  royal  envoy,  in  the  midst  of  the  Convocation,  *  let  him 
stand  up  that  he  may  be  noted  as  an  enemy  to  the  King's  peace."  The 
outraged  churchmen  fell  back  on  an  untenable  plea  that  their  aid  was 
due  solely  to  Rome,  and  pleaded  a  bull  of  exemption,  issued  by  Pope 
Boniface  VIII.,  as  a  ground  for  refusing  to  comply  with  further  taxa- 
tion. Edward  met  their  refusal  by  a  general  outlawry  of  the  whole 
order.  The  King's  courts  were  closed,  and  all  justice  denied  to  those 
who  refused  the  King  aid.  By  their  actual  plea  the  clergy  had  put 
themselves  formally  in  the  wrong,  and  the  outlawry  soon  forced  them 
to  submission,  but  their  aid  did  little  to  recruit  the  exhausted  treasury, 
while  the  pressure  of  the  war  steadily  increased.  Far  wider  measures 
of  arbitrary  taxation  were  needful  to  equip  an  expedition  which 
Edward  prepared  to  lead  in  person  to  Flanders.  The  country  gentle- 
men were  compelled  to  take  up  knighthood,  or  to  compound  for 
exemption  from  the  burthensome  honour.  Forced  contributions  of 
cattle  and  corn  were  demanded  from  the  counties,  and  the  export 
duty  on  wool — now  the  staple  produce  of  the  country — was  raised  to 
six  times  its  former  amount.  Though  he  infringed  no  positive  charter 
or  statute,  the  work  of  the  Great  Charter  and  the  Barons'  war  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  been  undone.  But  the  blow  had  no  sooner  been  struck 
than  Edward  found  himself  powerless  within  his  realm.  The  baronage 
roused  itself  to  resistance,  and  the  two  greatest  of  the  English  nobles, 
Bohun,  Earl  of  Hereford,  and  Bigod,  Earl  of  Norfolk,  placed  them- 
selves at  the  head  of  the  opposition.  Their  protest  against  the  war 
and  the  financial  measures  by  which  it  was  carried  on,  took  the  practical 
form  of  a  refusal  to  lead  a  force  to  Gascony  as  Edward's  lieutenants^ 
while  he  himself  sailed  for  Flanders.  They  availed  themselves  of  the 
plea  that  they  were  not  bound  to  foreign  service  save  in  attendance  on 
the  King.  "  By  God,  Sir  Earl,"  swore  the  King  to  Bigod,  *  you  shall 
either  go  or  hang  ! "  "  By  God,  Sir  King,"  was  the  cool  reply,  "  I  will 
neither  go  nor  hang  !  "  Ere  the  Parliament  he  had  convened  could 
meet,  Edward  had  discovered  his  own  power'essness,  and,  with  one  of 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


207 


those  sudden  revulsions  of  feeling  of  which  his  nature  was  capable,  he 
stood  before  his  people  in  Westminster  Hall  and  owned,  with  a  burst 
of  tears,  that  he  had  taken  their  substance  without  due  warrant  of  law. 
His  passionate  appeal  to  their  loyalty  wrested  a  reluctant  assent  to  the 
prosecution  of  the  war,  but  the  crisis  had  taught  the  need  of  further 
securities  against  the  royal  power.  While  Edward  was  still  struggling 
in  Flanders,  the  Primate,  Winchelsey,  joined  the  two  Earls  and  the 
citizens  of  London  in  forbidding  any  further  levy  of  supplies  till  Edward 
at  Ghent  solemnly  confirmed  the  Charter  with  the  new  clauses  added 
to  it  prohibiting  the  King  from  raising  taxes  save  by  general  consent 
of  the  realm.  At  the  demand  of  the  barons  he  renewed  the  Confirma- 
tion in  1299,  when  his  attempt  to  add  an  evasive  clause  saving  the 
rights  of  the  Crown  proved  the  justice  of  their  distrust.  Two  years 
later  a  fresh  gathering  of  the  barons  in  arms  wrested  from  him  the  full 
execution  of  the  Charter  of  Forests.  The  bitterness  of  his  humiliation 
preyed  on  him  ;  he  evaded  his  pledge  to  levy  no  new  taxes  on  mer- 
chandize by  the  sale  to  merchants  of  certain  privileges  of  trading  ; 
and  a  formal  absolution  from  his  promises  which  he  obtained  from 
the  Pope  showed  his  intention  of  re-opening  the  questions  he  had 
yielded.  His  hand  was  stayed,  however,  by  the  fatal  struggle  with 
Scotland  which  revived  in  the  rising  of  Robert  Bruce,  and  the  King's 
death  bequeathed  the  contest  to  his  worthless  son. 

Worthless,  however,  as  Edward  the  Second  morally  might  be,  he 
was  far  from  being  destitute  of  the  intellectual  power  which  seemed 
hereditary  in  the  Plantagenets.  It  was  his  settled  purpose  to  fling  off 
the  yoke  of  the  baronage,  and  the  means  by  which  he  designed  ac- 
compUshing  his  purpose  was  the  choice  of  a  minister  wholly  dependent 
on  the  Crown.  We  have  already  noticed  the  change  by  which  the 
"  clerks  of  the  king's  chapel,"  who  ha  1  been  the  ministers  of  arbitrary 
government  under  the  Normans  and  Angevins,  had  been  quietly  super- 
seded by  the  prelates  and  lords  of  the  Continual  Council.  At  the  close 
of  his  father's  reign,  a  direct  demand  on  the  part  of  the  Barons  to 
nominate  the  great  officers  of  state  had  been  curtly  rejected  ;  but  the 
royal  choice  had  been  practically  limited  in  the  selection  of  its  minis- 
ters to  the  class  of  prelates  and  nobles,  and,  however  closely  connected 
with  royalty,  such  officers  always  to  a  great  extent  shared  the  feelings 
and  opinions  of  their  order.  It  seems  to  have  been  the  aim  of  the 
young  King  to  undo  the  change  which  had  been  silently  brought 
about,  and  to  imitate  the  policy  of  the  contemporary  sovereigns  of 
France  by  choosing  as  his  ministers  men  of  an  inferior  position, 
wholly  dependent  on  the  Crown  for  their  power,  and  representatives  of 
nothing  but  the  policy  and  interests  of  their  master.  Piers  Gaveston, 
a  foreigner  sprung  from  a  family  of  Guienne,  had  been  his  friend  and 
companion  during  his  father's  reign,  at  the  close  of  which  he  had  been 
banished  from  the  realm  for  his  share  in  intrigues  which  had  divided 


208 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Edward  from  his  son.  At  the  new  King's  accession  he  was  at  once 
recalled,  created  Earl  of  Cornwall,  and  placed  at  the  head  of  the  ad- 
ministration. Gay,  genial,  thriftless,  Gaveston  showed  in  his  first  acts 
the  quickness  and  audacity  of  Southern  G.ml;  the  older  ministers 
were  dismissed,  all  claims  of  precedence  or  inheritance  set  aside  in  the 
distribution  of  offices  at  the  coronation,  while  taunts  and  defiances 
goaded  the  proud  baronage  to  fury.  The  favourite  was  a  fine  soldier, 
and  his  lance  unhorsed  his  opponents  in  tourney  after  tourney.  His 
reckless  wit  flung  nicknames  about  the  Court ;  the  Earl  of  Lancaster 
was  "the  Actor,"  Pembroke  ''the  Jew,"  Warwick  " the  Black  Dog" 
But  taunt  and  defiance  broke  helplessly  against  the  iron  mass  of  the 
baronage.  After  a  few  months  of  power  the  demand  of  the  Parliament 
for  his  dismissal  could  not  be  resisted,  and  he  was  formally  l^nished 
from  the  realm.  In  the  following  year  it  was  only  by  conceding  the 
rights  which  his  father  had  sought  to  establish  of  imposing  import 
duties  on  the  merchants  by  their  own  assent,  that  Edward  procured  a 
subsidy  for  the  Scotch  war.  The  firmness  of  the  baronage  sprang  from 
their  having  found  a  head  in  the  Earl  of  Lancaster,  son  of  Edmund 
Crouchback.  His  weight  proved  irresistible.  When  Edward  at  the 
close  of  the  Parliament  recalled  Gaveston,  Lancaster  withdrew  from 
the  royal  Council,  and  a  Parliament  which  met  in  1310  resolved  that 
the  affairs  of  the  realm  should  be  entrusted  for  a  year  to  a  body  of 
twenty-one  "  Ordainers." 

A  formidable  list  of  "  Ordinances  "  drawn  up  by  the  twenty-one 
met  Edward  on  his  return  from  a  fruitless  warfare  with  the  Scots. 
By  this  long  and  important  statute  Gaveston  was  banished,  other  ad- 
visers were  driven  from  the  Council,  and  the  Florentine  bankers  whose 
loans  had  enabled  Edward  to  hold  the  baronage  at  bay  sent  out  of  the 
realm.  The  customs  duties  imposed  by  Edward  the  First  were  de- 
clared to  be  illegal.  Parliaments  were  to  be  called  every  year,  and  in 
these  assemblies  the  King's  servants  were  to  be  brought,  if  need  were, 
to  justice.  The  great  officers  of  state  were  to  be  appointed  with  the 
counsel  and  consent  of  the  baronage,  and  to  be  sworn  in  Parliament. 
The  same  consent  of  the  barons  in  Parliament  was  to  be  needful  ere 
the  King  could  declare  war  or  absent  himself  from  the  realm.  As  the 
Ordinances  show,  the  baronage  still  looked  on  Parliament  rather  as  a 
political  organization  of  the  nobles  than  as  a  gathering  of  the  three 
Estates  of  the  realm.  The  lower  clergy  pass  unnoticed  ;  the  Coinnivins 
are  regarded  as  mere  tax-payers  whose  part  was  still  confined  to  the 
presentation  of  petitions  of  grievances  and  the  grant  of  money.  But 
even  in  this  imperfect  fashion  the  Parliament  was  a  real  representit ion 
of  the  country,  and  Edward  was  forced  to  assent  to  the  Ordinances 
after  a  long  and  obstinate  struggle.  The  exile  of  Gaveston  was  the 
sign  of  the  barons'  triumph  ;  his  recall  a  few  months  Liter  renewed  a 
strife  which  was  only  ended  by  his  capture  in  Scarborough.     The 


VI.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


209 


''Black  Dog"  of  Warwick  had  sworn  that  the  favourite  should  feel  his 
teeth  ;  and  Gaveston,  who  flung  himself  in  vain  at  the  feet  of  the  Earl 
of  Lancaster,  praying  for  pity  "  from  his  gentle  lord,"  was  beheaded  in 
defiance  of  the  terms  of  his  capitulation  on  Blacklow  Hill.  The  King's 
burst  of  grief  was  as  fruitless  as  his  threats  of  vengeance  :  a  feigned 
submission  of  tho  conquerors  completed  the  royal  humiliation,  and  the 
barons  knelt  before  Edward  in  Westminster  Hall  to  receive  a  pardon 
which  seemed  the  deathblow  of  the  royal  power.  But  if  Edward  was 
powerless  to  conquer  the  baronage  he  could  still,  by  evading  the  ob- 
servance of  the  Ordinances,  throw  the  whole  realm  into  confusion. 
The  six  years  that  follow  Gaveston's  death  are  among  the  darke  t  in  our 
history.  A  terrible  succession  of  famines  intensified  the  suffering 
which  sprang  from  the  utter  absence  of  all  rule  during  the  dissension 
between  the  barons  and  the  King.  The  overthrow  of  Bannockburn, 
and  the  ravages  of  the  Scots  in  the  North,  brought  shame  on  England 
such  as  it  had  never  known.  At  last  the  capture  of  Berwick  by 
Robert  Bruce  forced  Edward  to  give  way,  the  Ordinances  were 
formally  accepted,  an  amnesty  granted,  and  a  small  number  of  peers 
belonging  to  the  Barons'  party  added  to  the  great  officers  of  state. 

The  Earl  of  Lancaster,  by  the  union  of  the  four  earldom '.  of  Lincoln, 
Leicester,  Derby,  d  Lancaster,  as  well  as  by  his  royal  blood  (for  like 
the  King  he  was  grandson  of  Henry  the  Third),  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  English  bar  nage,  and  the  issue  of  the  long  struggle  with  Edward 
raised  him  for  th  moment  to  supreme  power  in  the  realm.  But  his 
character  seems  to  have  fallen  far  beneath  the  greatness  of  his  posi- 
tion. Incapable  of  governing,  he  could  do  little  but  regard  with 
jealousy  the  new  advisers  on  whom  the  King  now  leaned,  the  older 
and  the  younger  Hugh  Le  Despenser.  The  rise  of  the  younger,  on 
whom  the  King  bestowed  the  county  of  Glamorgan  with  the  hand  of 
its  heiress,  was  rapid  enough  to  excite  general  jealousy,  and  Lancaster 
found  little  difficulty  in  extorting  by  force  of  arms  his  exile  from  the 
kinrjdom.  But  the  tide  of  popular  sympathy,  already  wavering,  was 
turned  to  the  royal  cause  by  an  insult  offered  to  the  Queen,  against 
whom  Lady  Badlesmere  had  closed  the  doors  of  Ledes  Castle,  and  the 
unexpected  energy  shown  by  Edward  in  avenging  the  insult  gave 
fresh  strength  to  his  cause.  He  found  himself  strong  enough  to  recall 
Despenser,  and  when  Lancaster  convoked  the  baronage  to  force  him 
again  into  exile,  the  weakness  of  their  party  was  shown  by  the  treason- 
able negotiations  into  which  the  Earl  entered  with  the  Scots,  and  b)- 
his  precipitate  retreat  to  the  north  on  the  advance  of  the  royal  army. 
At  Boroughbridge  his  forces  were  arrested  and  dispersed,  and  the 
Earl  himself,  brought  captive  before  Edward  at  Pontefract,  was 
tried  and  condemned  to  death  as  a  traitor.  "  Have  mercy  on  me. 
King  of  Heaven,"  cried  Lancaster,  as  mounted  on  a  grey  pony  with- 
out a  bridle  he  was  hurried  to  execution,  "  for  my  earthly  King  has 


2IO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Shc.   V. 
Thh  King 

AND   THE 

Baronage 

ia9o 

TO 

1327 


1323 


1326 


1327 

Deposition 
5^  Edward 


forsaken  me."     His  death  was  followed  by  that  of  a  number  of  his 
adherents    and  by  the  captivity    of  others  ;   while  a   Parliament  at 
York  annulled  the  proceedings  against  the  Despensers,  and  repealed 
the  Ordinances.      It  is  to  this  Parliament  however,  and  perhaps  to 
the  victorious   confidence  of  the  royalists,  that  we  owe  the  famous 
provision  which  reveals  the  policy  of  the  Despensers,  the  provision  that 
all  laws  concerning  "  the  estate  of  the  Crown,  or  of  the  realm  and  people, 
shall  be  treated,  accorded,  and  established  in   Parliaments  by  our 
Lord  the  King  and  by   the    consent  of  the   prelates,  earls,  barons, 
and  commonalty  of  the  realm,  according  as  hath  been  hitherto  ac- 
customed."    It  would  seem  from  the  tenor  of  this  remarkable  enact- 
ment that  much  of  the  sudden  revulsion  of  popular  feeling  had  been 
owing  to  the  assumption  of  all  legislative   action   by   the  baronage 
alone.      But  the  arrogance  of  the  Despensers,  the  utter  failure  of  a 
fresh  campaign  against  Scotland,  and  the  humiliating  truce  for  thir- 
teen years  which  Edward  was  forced  to  conclude  with  Robert  Bruce, 
soon  robbed  the  Crown  of  its  temporary  popularity,  and  led  the  way 
to  the  sudden  catastrophe   which  closed  this   disastrous    reign.      It 
had  been  arranged  that  the  Queen,  a  sister  of  the  King  of  France, 
should   re-visit   her    home   to   conclude   a   treaty   between   the    two 
countries,  whose  quarrel  was  again  verging  upon  war  ;  and  her  son, 
a  boy  of  twelve  years  old,  followed  her  to  do  homage  in  his  father's 
stead  for  the  duchies  of  Gascony  and  Aquitaine       Neither  threats 
nor  prayers,  however,  could  induce  either  wife  or  child  to  return  to 
his  court  ;   and  the  Queen's  connexion  with  a  secret   conspiracy  of 
the  baronage  was  revealed  when  the  primate  and  nobles  hurried  to 
her  standard  on  her  landing  at   Orwell.      Deserted  by  all,  and  re- 
pulsed by  the  citizens  of  London  wlipse  aid  he  implored,  the  King 
fled  hastily  to  the  west  and  embarked  with  the  Despensers  for  Lundy 
Isle  ;   but    contrary   winds    flung  the  fugitives  again  on  the  Welsh 
coast,  where  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  new  Earl  of  Lancaster. 
The  younger  Despenser  was  at  once  hanged  on  a  gibbet  fifty  feet  high, 
and  the  King  placed  in  ward  at  Kenilworth  till  his  fate  could  be  de- 
cided by  a  Parliament  summoned  for  that  purpose  at  Westminster. 
The  Peers  who  assembled  fearle  sly  revived  the  constitutional  usage 
of  the  earlier  English  freedom,  and  asserted  their  right  to  depose  a 
king  who  had  proved  himself  unworthy  to   rule.     Not  a  voice  was 
raised  in  Edward's  behalf,  and  only  four  prelates  protested  when  the 
young  Prince  was  proclaimed  King  by  acclamation,  and  presented  as 
their  sovereign  to  the  multitudes  without.      The  revolution  soon  took 
legal  form  in  a  bill  which  charged  the  captive  monarch  with  indolence, 
incapjicity,  the  loss  of  Scotland,  the  violation  of  his  coronation  oath, 
and  oppression  of  the  Church  and  baronage  ;  and  on  the  approval  of 
this  it  was  resolved   that  the  reign  of  Edward  of  Caernarvon   had 
ceased  and  that  the  crown  had  passed  to  his  son,  Edward  of  Windsor. 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


211 


A  deputation  of  the  Parliament  proceeded  to  Kenilworth  to  procure 
the  assent  of  the  discrowned  King  to  his  own  deposition,  and  Edward, 
"clad  in  a  pi  lin  black  gown,"  submitted  quietly  to  his  fate.  Sir 
William  Trussel  at  once  addressed  him  in  words  which  better  than 
any  other  mark  the  true  nature  of  the  step  which  the  Parliament  had 
taken.  "  I,  William  Trussel,  proctor  of  the  earls,  barons,  and  others, 
having  for  this  full  and  sufficient  power,  do  render  and  give  back  to 
you,  Edward,  once  King  of  England,  the  homage  and  fealty  of  the 
persons  named  in  my  procuracy  ;  and  acquit  and  discharge  them 
thereof  in  the  best  manner  that  law  and  custom  will  give.  And  I 
now  make  protestation  in  their  name  that  they  will  no  longer  be  in 
your  fealty  and  allegiance,  nor  claim  to  hold  anything  of  you  as  king, 
but  will  account  you  hereafter  as  a  private  person,  without  any 
manner  of  royal  dignity."  A  significant  act  followed  these  emphatic 
words.  Sir  Thomas  Blount,  the  steward  of  the  household,  broke  his 
staff  of  office,  a  ceremony  only  used  at  a  king's  death,  and  declared 
that  all  persons  engaged  in  the  royal  service  were  discharged.  In 
the  following  September  the  King  was  murdered  in  Berkeley  Castle. 


Section  VI.    The  Scotch  VTar  of  Independence,  1306— 134-2. 

[Authorities. — Mainly  the  contemporary  English  Chroniclers  and  state 
documents  for  the  reigns  of  the  three  J*"dwards,  John  Barbour's  "Bruce," 
the  great  legendary  storehouse  for  his  hero's  adventures,  is  histoiically  worth- 
less.    Mr.  Burton's  is  throughout  the  best  modern  account  of  the  time.] 

To  obtain  a  clear  view  of  the  constitutional  struggle  between  the 
kings  and  the  baronage,  we  have  deferred  to  its  close  an  account 
of  the  great  contest  which  raged  throughout  the  whole  period  in  the 
north. 

With  the  Convocation  of  Perth  the  conquest  and  settlement  of 
Scotland  seemed  complete.  Edward  I.,  in  fact,  was  preparing  for  a 
joint  Parliament  of  the  two  nations  at  Carlisle,  when  the  conquered 
country  suddenly  sprang  again  to  arms  under  Robert  Bruce,  the 
grandson  of  one  of  the  original  claimants  of  the  crown.  The  Norman 
house  of  Bruce  formed  a  part  of  the  Yorkshire  baronage,  but  it  had 
acquired  through  intermarriages  the  Earldom  of  Carrick  and  the 
Lordship  of  Annandale.  ]3oth  the  claimant  and  his  son  had  been 
pretty  steadily  on  the  English  side  in  the  contest  with  Balliol  and 
Wallace,  and  Robert  had  himself  been  trained  in  the  English  court, 
and  stood  high  in  the  King's  favour.  But  the  withdrawal  of  Balliol 
gave  a  new  force  to  his  claims  upon  the  crown,  and  the  discovery  of 
an  intrigue  which  he  had  set  on  foot  with  the  Bishop  of  St.  Andrews  so 
roused  Edward's  jealousy  that  Bruce  fled  for  his  life  across  the  border. 
In  the  church  of  the  Grey  Friars  at  Dumfries  he  met  Comyn,  the 
Lord  of  Badenoch,  to  whose  treachery  he  attributed  the  disclosure  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


his  plans,  and  after  the  interchange  of  a  few  hot  words  struck  him 
with  his  dagger  to  the  ground.  It  was  an  outrage  that  admitted  of  no 
forgiveness,  and  Bruce  for  very  safety  was  forced  to  assume  the  crown 
six  weeks  after  in  the  Abbey  of  Scone.  The  news  roused  Scotland 
again  to  arms,  and  summoned  Edward  to  a  fresh  contest  with  his  un- 
conquerable foe.  But  the  murder  of  Comyn  had  changed  the  King's 
mood  to  a  terrible  pitilessness  ;  he  threatened  death  against  all  con- 
cerned in  the  outrage,  and  exposed  the  Countess  of  Buchan,  who  had 
set  the  crown  on  Bruce's  head,  in  a  cage  or  open  chamber  built  for 
the  purpose  in  one  of  the  towers  of  Berwick.  At  the  solemn  feast 
which  celebrated  his  son's  knighthood  Edward  vowed  on  the  swan, 
which  formed  the  chief  dish  at  the  banquet,  to  devote  the  rest  of  his 
days  to  exact  vengeance  from  the  murderer  himself  But  even  at  the 
moment  of  the  vow,  Bruce  was  already  flying  for  his  life  to  the 
western  islands.  "  Henceforth,"  he  had  said  to  his  wife  at  their  corona- 
tion, "thou  art  queen  of  Scotland  and  I  king."  "  I  fear,"  replied  Mary 
liruce,  "  we  are  only  playing  at  royalty,  like  children  in  their  games." 
The  play  was  soon  turned  into  bitter  earnest.  A  small  English  force 
under  Aymer  de  Valence  sufficed  to  rout  the  disorderly  levies  which 
gathered  round  the  new  monarch,  and  the  flight  of  Bruce  left  his 
followers  at  Edward's  mercy.  Noble  after  noble  was  hurried  to  the 
block.  The  Earl  of  Athole  pleaded  kindred  with  royalty  ;  "His  only 
privilege,"  burst  forth  the  King,  "  shall  be  that  of  being  hanged  on  a 
higher  gallows  than  the  rest."  Knights  and  priests  were  strung  up 
side  by  side  by  the  English  justiciars  ;  while  the  wife  and  daughter 
of  Robert  Bruce  were  flung  into  prison.  Bruce  himself  had  offered 
to  capitulate  to  Prince  Edward,  but  the  offer  only  roused  the  old 
King  to  fury.  "  Who  is  so  bold,"  he  cried,  "  as  to  treat  with  our 
traitors  without  our  knowledge  .'"'  and  rising  from  his  sick  bed  he  led 
his  army  northwards  to  complete  the  conquest.  But  the  hand  of 
death  was  upon  him,  and  in  the  very  sight  of  Scotland  the  old  man 
breathed  his  last  at  Burgh-upon-Sands. 

The  death  of  Edward  arrested  only  for  a  moment  the  advance  of 
his  army  to  the  north.  The  Earl  of  Pembroke  led  it  across  the  border, 
and  found  himself  master  of  the  country  without  a  blow.  Bruce's 
career  became  that  of  a  desperate  adventurer,  for  even  the  Highland 
chiefs  in  whose  fastnesses  he  found  shelter  were  bitterly  hostile  to  one 
who  claimed  to  be  King  of  their  foes  in  the  Lowlands.  It  was  this 
adversity  that  transformed  the  murderer  of  Comyn  into  the  noble 
leader  of  a  nation's  cause.  Strong  and  of  commanding  presence, 
brave  and  genial  in  temper,  Bruce  bore  the  hardships  of  his  career 
with  a  courage  and  hopefulness  which  never  failed.  In  the  legends 
which  clustered  round  his  name  we  see  him  listening  in  Highland  glens 
to  the  bay  of  the  bloodhounds  on  his  track,  or  holding  single-handed 
a  pass  against  a  crowd  of  savage  clansmen.     Sometimes  the  little 


IV. 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


213 


band  which  clung  to  him  were  forced  to  support  themselves  by  hunting 
or  fishing,  sometimes  to  break  up  for  safety  as  their  enemies  tracked 
them  to  the  lair.  Bruce  himself  had  more  than  once  to  fling  off  his 
shirt  of  mail  and  scramble  barefoot  for  very  life  up  the  crags.  Little 
by  little,  however,  the  dark  sky  cleared.  The  English  pressure  relaxed, 
as  the  struggle  between  Edward  and  his  barons  grew  fiercer.  James 
Douglas,  the  darling  of  Scotch  story,  was  the  first  of  the  Lowland 
barons  to  rally  again  to  the  Bruce,  and  his  daring  gave  heart  to  the 
King's  cause.  Once  he  surprised  his  own  house,  which  had  been 
given  to  an  Englishman,  ate  the  dinner  which  had  been  prepared  for 
its  new  owner,  slew  his  captives,  and  tossed  their  bodies  on  to  a  pile 
of  wood  gathered  at  the  castle  gate.  Then  he  staved  in  the  wine- 
vats  that  the  wine  might  mingle  with  their  blood,  and  set  house  and 
woodpile  on  fire.  A  terrible  ferocity  mingled  with  heroism  in  the 
work  of  freedom,  but  the  revival  of  the  country  went  steadily  on. 
Bruce's  "  harrying  of  Buchan  "  after  the  defeat  of  its  Earl,  who  had 
joined  the  English  army,  at  last  fairly  turned  the  tide  of  success. 
Edinburgh,  Roxburgh,  Perth,  and  most  of  the  Scotch  fortresses  fell 
one  by  one  into  King  Robert's  hands.  The  clergy  met  in  council  and  | 
owned  him  as  their  lawful  lord.  Gradually  the  Scotch  barons  who  still 
held  to  the  English  cause  were  coerced  into  submission,  and  Bruce 
found  himself  strong  enough  to  invest  Stirling,  the  last  and  the  most 
mportant  of  the  Scotch  fortresses  which  held  out  for  Edward. 

Stirling  was  in  fact  the  key  of  Scotland,  and  its  danger  roused  Eng- 
land out  of  its  civil  strife  to  a  vast  effort  for  the  recovery  of  its  prey. 
Thirty  thousand  horsemen  formed  the  fighting  part  of  the  great  army 
which  followed  Edward  to  the  north,  and  a  host  of  wild  marauders 
had  been  summoned  from  Ireland  and  Wales  to  its  support.  The 
army  which  Bruce  had  gathered  to  oppose  the  inroad  was  formed 
almost  wholly  of  footmen,  and  was  stationed  to  the  south  of  Stirling 
on  a  rising  ground  flanked  by  a  little  brook,  the  Bannock  burn  which 
gave  its  name  to  the  engagement.  Again  two  systems  of  warfare  were 
brought  face  to  face  as  they  had  been  brought  at  Falkirk,  for  Robert, 
like  Wallace,  drew  up  his  force  in  solid  squares  or  circles  of  spearmen. 
The  English  were  dispirited  at  the  very  outset  by  the  failure  of  an 
attempt  to  relieve  Stirling,  and  by  the  issue  of  a  single  combat  be- 
tween Bruce  and  Henry  de  Bohun,  a  knight  who  bore  down  upon  him 
as  he  was  riding  peacefully  along  the  front  of  his  army.  Robert  was 
mounted  on  a  small  hackney  and  held  only  a  light  battle-axe  in  his 
hand,  but,  warding  off  his  opponent's  spear,  he  cleft  his  skull  with  so 
terrible  a  blow  that  the  handle  of  the  axe  was  shattered  in  his  grasp. 
At  the  opening  of  the  battle  the  English  archers  were  thrown  forward 
to  rake  the  Scottish  squares,  but  they  were  without  support  and  were 
easily  dispersed  by  a  handful  of  horse  whom  Bruce  had  held  in  reserve; 
for  the  purpose.     The  body  of  men-at-arms  next  flung  themselves  on 


Thf.  Scotch 
War  ok 
Indepen- 

DENCK 

1306 

TO 

1342 


214 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  Scottish  front,  but  their  charge  was  embarrassed  by  the  narrow 
space  a)ong  which  the  line  was  forced  to  move,  and  the  steady  resist- 
ance of  the  squares  soon  threw  the  knighthood  into  disorder.  "  The 
horses  that  were  stickit,"  says  an  exulting  Scotch  writer,  "  rushed  and 
reeled  right  rudely."  In  the  moment  of  failure  the  sight  of  a  body  of 
camp-followers,  whom  they  mistook  for  reinforcements  to  the  enemy, 
spread  panic  through  the  English  host.  It  broke  in  a  headlong  rout. 
Its  thousands  of  brilliant  horsemen  were  soon  floundering  in  pits 
which  had  guarded  the  level  ground  to  Bruce's  left,  or  riding  in  wild 
haste  for  the  border.  Few  however  were  fortunate  enough  to  reach  it. 
Edward  himself,  with  a  body  of  five  hundred  knights,  succeeded  in 
escaping  to  Dunbar  and  the  sea.  But  the  flower  of  his  knighthood  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  victors,  while  the  Irishry  and  the  footmen  were 
ruthlessly  cut  down  by  the  country  folk  as  they  fled.  For  centuries 
after,  the  rich  plunder  of  the  English  camp  left  its  traces  on  the 
treasure  and  vestment  rolls  of  castle  and  abbey  throughout  the 
Lowlands. 

Terrible  as  was  the  blow  England  could  not  humble  1  irself  to  re- 
linquish her  claim  on  the  Scottish  crown.  With  equal  pertinacity 
Bruce  refused  all  negotiation  while  the  royal  title  was  refused  to  him, 
and  steadily  pushed  on  the  recovery  of  his  southern  dominions. 
Berwick  was  at  last  forced  to  surrender,  and  held  against  a  desperate 
attempt  at  its  recapture  ;  while  barbarous  forays  of  the  borderers 
under  Douglas  wasted  Northumberland.  Again  the  strife  between  the 
Crown  and  the  baronage  was  suspended  to  allow  the  march  of  a  great 
English  army  to  the  north  ;  but  firuce  declined  an  engagement  till 
the  wasted  Lowlands  starved  the  invaders  into  a  ruinous  retreat.  The 
failure  forced  England  to  stoop  to  a  truce  for  thirteen  years,  in  the 
negotiation  of  which  Bruce  wa:  suffered  to  take  the  royal  title.  But 
the  truce  ceased  legally  with  Edward's  deposition.  Troops  gathered 
on  either  side,  and  Edward  Balliol,  a  son  of  the  former  king  John, 
was  solemnly  received  as  a  vassal-king  of  Scotland  at  the  English 
court.  Robert  was  disabled  by  leprosy  from  taking  the  field  in  person, 
but  the  insult  roused  him  to  hurl  his  marauders  again  over  the  border 
under  Douglas  and  Randolph.  An  eye-witness  has  painted  for  us  the 
Scotch  army,  as  it  appeared  in  this  campaign :  "  It  consisted  of  four 
thousand  men-at-arms,  knights  and  esquires,  well  mounted,  besides 
twenty  thousand  men  bold  and  hardy,  armed  after  the  manner  of  their 
country,  and  mounted  upon  little  hackneys  that  are  never  tied  up  or 
dressed,  but  turned  immediately  after  the  day's  march  to  pasture  on 
the  heath  or  in  the  fields.  .  .  .  They  bring  no  carriages  with  them  on 
account  of  the  mountains  they  have  to  pass  in  Northumberland, 
neither  do  they  carry  with  them  any  provisions  of  bread  and  wine,  for 
their  habits  of  sobriety  are  such  in  time  of  war  that  they  will  live  for  a 
long  time  on  flesh  half-sodden  'vithout  brrad,  and  drink  the  river 


IV.] 


THE  THREE  EDWARDS. 


215 


water  without  wine.  They  have  therefore  no  occasion  for  pots  or 
pans,  for  they  dress  the  flesh  of  the  cattle  in  their  skins  after  they 
have  flayed  them,  and  being  sure  to  find  plenty  of  them  in  the  country 
which  they  invade,  they  carry  none  with  them.  Under  the  flaps  of 
his  saddle  each  man  carries  a  broad  piece  of  metal,  behind  him  a 
little  bag  of  oatmeal ;  when  they  have  eaten  too  much  of  the  sodden 
flesh  and  their  stomach  appears  weak  and  empty,  they  set  this  plate 
over  the  fire,  knead  the  meal  with  water,  and  when  the  plate  is  hot 
put  r.  little  of  the  paste  upon  it  in  a  thin  cake  Jke  a  biscuit  which  they 
eat  to  warm  their  stomachs.  It  is  therefore  no  wonder  that  they 
perform  a  longer  day's  march  than  other  soldiers."  Against  such  a 
foe  the  English  troops  who  marched  under  their  boy-king  to  protect 
the  border  were  utterly  helpless.  At  one  time  the  army  lost  its  way 
in  the  vast  border  waste  ;  at  another  all  traces  of  the  enemy  had 
disappeared,  and  an  offer  of  knighthood  and  a  hundred  marks  was 
made  to  any  who  could  tell  where  the  Scots  were  encamped.  But 
when  found  their  position  behind  the  Wear  proved  unassailable,  and 
after  a  bold  sally  on  the  English  camp  Douglas  foiled  an  attempt  at 
intercepting  him  by  a  clever  retreat.  The  English  levies  broke  hope- 
lessly up,  and  a  fresh  foray  on  Northumberland  forced  the  English 
court  to  submit  to  peace.  By  the  Treaty  of  Northampton  the  in- 
dependence of  Scotland  was  formally  recognized,  and  Bruce  acknow- 
ledged as  its  king. 

The  pride  of  England,  however,  had  been  too  much  aroused  by  the 
struggle  to  bear  easily  its  defeat.  The  first  result  of  the  treaty  was 
the  overthrow  of  the  government  which  concluded  it,  a  result  hastened 
by  the  pride  o.  its  head,  Roger  Mortimer,  and  by  his  exclusion  of  the 
rest  of  the  nobles  from  all  share  in  the  administration  of  the  realm. 
The  fir^t  efforts  to  shake  Roger's  power  were  unsuccessful :  a  league 
headed  by  the  Earl  of  Lancaster  broke  up  without  result ;  and  the 
King's  uncle,  the  Earl  of  Kent,  was  actually  brought  to  the  block, 
before  the  young  King  himself  interfered  in  the  struggle.  Entering 
the  Council  chamber  in  Nottingham  Castle,  with  a  force  which  he 
had  introduced  through  a  secret  passage  in  the  rock  on  which  it 
stands,  Edv/ard  arrested  Mortimer  with  his  own  hands,  hurried  him  to 
execution,  and  assumed  the  control  of  affairs.  His  first  care  was  to 
restore  good  order  throughout  the  country,  which  under  the  late 
government  had  fallen  into  ruin,  and  to  free  his  hands  by  a  peace  with 
France  for  further  enterprises  in  the  North.  Fortune  indeed,  seemed 
at  last  to  have  veered  to  the  English  sid^  ;  the  death  of  Bruce  only  a 
year  after  the  Treaty  of  Northampton  .jft  the  Scottish  throne  to  a 
child  of  but  eight  years  old,  and  the  internr^  lifficultics  of  the  realm 
broke  out  in  civil  strife.  To  the  great  barons  on  either  side  the  border 
the  late  peace  involved  serious  losses,  for  many  of  the  Scotch  houses 
held  large  estates  in   England,  as  many  of  the  English  lords  held 


2l6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


large  estates  in  Scotland  ;  and  although  the  treaty  had  provided  for 
their  claims,  they  had  in  each  case  been  practically  set  aside.  It  is 
this  discontent  of  the  barons  at  the  new  settlement  which  explains  the 
sudden  success  of  Edward  Balliol  in  his  snatch  at  the  Scottish  throne. 
In  spite  of  King  Edward's  prohibition,  he  sailed  from  England  at  the 
head  of  a  body  of  nobles  who  claimed  estates  in  the  north,  landed  on 
the  shores  of  Fife,  and,  after  repulsing  with  immense  loss  an  army 
which  attacked  him  near  Perth,  was  crowned  at  Scone,  while  David 
Bruce  fled  helplessly  to  France.  Edward  had  given  no  open  aid  to  the 
enterprise,  but  the  crisis  tempted  his  ambition,  and  he  demanded  and 
obtained  from  lialliol  an  acknowledgement  of  the  English  suzerainty. 
The  acknowledgement,  however,  was  fatal  to  iJalliol  himself.  He  was 
at  once  driven  from  his  realm,  and  Berwick,  which  he  had  agreed  to 
surrender  to  Edward,  was  strongly  garrisoned  against  an  English 
attack.  The  town  was  soon  besieged,  but  a  Scotch  army  under  the 
regent  Douglas,  brother  to  the  famous  Sir  James,  advanced  to  its 
relief,  and  attacked  a  covering  force,  which  was  encamped  on  the 
strong  position  of  Halidon  Hill.  The  English  bowmen,  however, 
vindicated  the  fame  they  had  first  won  at  Falkirk,  and  were  soon  to 
crown  in  the  victory  of  Crdcy ;  and  the  Scotch  only  struggled  through 
the  marsh  which  covered  the  English  front  to  be  riddled  with  a  storm 
of  arrows,  and  to  break  in  utter  rout.  The  battle  decided  the  fate  of 
Berwick,  and  from  that  time  the  town  remained  the  one  part  of 
Edward's  conquests  which  was  preserved  by  the  English  crown. 
Fragment  as  it  was,  it  was  always  viewed  legally  as  representing  the 
realm  of  which  it  had  once  formed  a  part.  As  Scotland,  it  had  its 
chancellor,  chamberlain,  and  other  officers  of  State  ;  and  the  peculiar 
heading  of  Acts  of  Parliament  enacted  for  England  "  and  the  town  of 
Berwick-upon-Tweed"  still  preserves  the  memory  of  its  peculiar 
position.  Balliol  was  restored  to  his  throne  by  the  conquerors,  and 
his  formal  cession  of  the  Lowlands  to  England  rewarded  their  aid. 
During  the  next  three  years  Edward  persisted  in  the  line  of  policy 
he  had  adopted,  retaining  his  hold  over  Southern  Scotland,  and  aiding 
his  sub-king  Balliol  in  campaign  after  campaign  against  the  despairing 
efforts  of  the  nobles  who  still  adhered  to  the  house  of  Bruce.  His 
perseverance  was  all  but  crowned  with  success,  when  the  outbreak  of 
war  with  France  saved  Scotland  by  drawing  the  strength  of  England 
across  the  Channel.  The  patriot  party  drew  again  together.  Balliol 
found  himself  at  last  without  an  adherent  and  withdrew  to  the  Court 
of  Edward,  while  David  returned  to  his  kingdom,  and  won  back  the 
chief  fastnesses  of  the  Lowlands.  The  freedom  of  Scotland  was,  in 
fact,  secured.  From  a  war  of  conquest  and  patriotic  resistance  the 
struggle  died  into  a  petty  strife  between  two  angry  neighbours,  which 
became  a  mere  episode  in  the  larger  contest  between  England  and 
France. 


FRANCE  AT  THE  TREATY  OP  BRETIGNT 


S  P  A-  I  N 


V.1 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


417 


CHAPTER  V. 
THE  HUNDRED    YEARS'    WAR, 
1336—1431. 
.  ^         Section  I.— Edward  the  Tbird^  1336— 1360. 

[Authorities. — The  concluding  part  of  the  chronicle  of  Walter  of  Hemin- 
burgh  or  Hemingford  seems  to  have  been  jotted  down  as  news  of  the  passing 
events  reached  its  author  ;  it  ends  at  the  battle  of  Crecy.  Hearne  has  pub- 
lished another  contemporary  account  by  Robert  of  Avesbury,  which  closes  in 
1356.  A  third  account  by  Knyghton,  a  canon  of  Leicester,  will  be  found  in 
the  collection  of  Twysden.  At  the  end  of  this  century  and  the  beginning  of 
the  next  the  annals  that  had  been  carried  on  in  the  Abbey  of  St.  Albans  were 
thrown  together  by  Walsingham  in  the  "  Historia  Anglicana  "  which  bears  his 
name,  a  compilation  whose  history  is  given  in  the  prefaces  to  the  "Chronica 
Monasterii  S,  Albani  "  (Rolls  Series).  Rymer's  Foedera  is  rich  in  documents 
for  this  period,  and  from  this  time  we  have  a  storehouse  of  political  and  social 
information  in  the  Parlian  entary  Rolls.  For  the  French  war  itself  our  primary 
authority  is  the  Chronicle  of  Jehan  le  Bel,  a  canon  of  S.  Lambert  of  Liege, 
who  had  himself  served  in  Edward's  campaign  against  the  Scots,-  and  spent 
the  rest  of  his  life  at  the  court  of  John  of  Hainault.  Up  to  the  Treaty  of 
Bretigny,  where  it  closes,  Froissart  has  done  little  more  than  copy  this  w ork, 
making  however  large  additions  from  his  own  inquiries,  especially  in  the 
Flemish  and  Breton  campaigns  and  the  account  of  Crecy.  A  Hainaulter  of 
Valenciennes,  Froissart  held  a  post  in  Queen  Philippa's  household  from  1 36 1  to 
1369  ;  and  under  this  influence  produced  in  1373  the  first  edition  of  his  well- 
known  Chronicle.  A  later  edition  is  far  less  English  in  tone,  and  a  third  ver- 
sion, begun  by  him  in  his  old  age  after  long  absence  from  England,  is  distinctly 
French  in  its  sympathies.  Froissart's  vivacity  and  picturesqueness  blind  us  to 
the  inaccuracy  of  his  details  ;  as  an  historical  authority  he  is  of  little  value. 
The  incidental  mention  of  Crecy  and  the  later  English  expeditions  by  Villani 
in  his  great  Florentine  Chronicle  are  important.  The  best  modern  account  of 
this  period  is  that  by  Mr.  W.  Longman,  "History  of  Erlvrard  HL"  Mr. 
Morley  ("English  Writers  ")  has  treated  in  great  detail  of  Chaucer.] 

[Dr.  Stubbs'  "Constitutional  History"  (vol.  ii. ),  published  since  this 
chapter  was  written,  deals  with  the  whole  period. — Ed.'] 

In  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  the  great  movement  towards 
national  unity  which  had  begun  under  the  last  of  the  Norman  Kings 
seemed  to  have  reached  its  end,  and  the  perfect  fusion,  of  conquered 
and  conquerors  into  an  English  people  was  marked  by  the  disuse,  even 
amongst  the  nobler  classes,  of  the  French  tongue.  In  spite  of  the 
efforts  of  the  grammar  schools,  and  of  the  strength  of  fashion,  English 
was  winning  its  way  throughout  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third  ^  its 

• 


Engrlandr 

under 

Edward 


2i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


LCHAP. 


final  triumph  in  that  of  his  grandson.  "  Children  in  school,"  says  a 
writer  of  the  earlier  reign,  "  against  the  usage  and  manner  of  all  othei 
nations,  be  compelled  for  to  leave  their  own  language,  and  for  to  con- 
strue their  lessons  and  their  things  in  French,  and  so  they  have  since 
Normans  first  came  into  England.  Also  gentlemen's  children  be 
taught  to  speak  French  from  the  time  that  they  be  rocked  in  their 
cradle,  and  know  how  to  speak  and  play  with  a  child's  toy  ;  and  up- 
landish  (or  country)  men  will  liken  themselves  to  gentlemen,  and  strive 
with  great  busyness  to  speak  French  for  to  be  more  told  of."  "  This 
manner,"  adds  a  translator  of  Richard's  time,  "  was  much  used  before 
the  first  murrain  (the  plague  of  1349),  and  is  since  somewhat  changed  ; 
for  John  Cornwal,  a  master  of  grammar,  changed  the  lore  in  grammar 
school  and  construing  of  French  into  English  ;  and  Richard  Pencrych 
learned  this  manner  of  teaching  of  him,  as  others  did  of  Pencrych.  So 
that  now,  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1385,  and  of  the  second  King  Richard 
after  the  Conquest  nine,  in  all  the  grammar  schools  of  England  children 
leaveth  French,  and  construeth  and  leameth  in  English."  A  more 
formal  note  of  the  change  is  found  when  English  was  ordered  to  be 
used  in  courts  of  law  in  1^62  "  because  the  French  tongue  is  much 
unknown  ; "  and  in  the  following  year  it  was  employed  by  the  Chan- 
cellor in  opening  Parliament.  Bishops  began  to  preach  in  English, 
and  the  English  tracts  of  Wyclif  made  it  once  more  a  literary  tongue. 
This  drift  towards  a  (General  use  of  the  national  tongue  told  powerfully 
on  literature.  The  mfluence  of  the  French  romances  everywhere 
tended  to  make  French  the  one  literary  language  at  the  opening  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  and  in  England  this  influence  had  been  backed 
by  the  French  tone  of  the  court  of  Henry  the  Third  and  the  three 
Edwards.  But  at  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third  the  long 
French  romances  needed  to  be  translated  even  for  knightly  hearers. 
"  Let  clerks  indite  in  Latin,"  says  the  author  of  the  "  Testament  of 
Love,"  "  and  let  Frenchmen  in  their  French  also  indite  their  quaint 
terms,  for  it  is  kindly  to  their  mouths  ;  and  let  us  show  our  fantasies 
in  such  wordes  as  we  learned  of  our  mother's  tongue."  But  the  new 
national  life  afforded  nobler  material  than  "  fantasies  "  now  for  English 
literature.  Withthecompletion  of  the  work  of  national  unity  had 
come  _the  completion  of  tFe  work  of  national  freedom.  Under  the 
first  Edwafd^The  Parliament  had  vindicated  its  right  to  the  control  of 
taxation,  under  the  second  it  had  advanced  from  the  removal  of 
ministers  to  the  deposition  of  a  King,  under  the  third  it  gave  its  voice 
on  questions  of  peace  and  war,  controlled  expenditure,  and  regulated 
the  course  of  civil  administration.  The  vigour  of  English  life  showed 
itself  socially  in  the  wide  extension  of  commerce,  in  the  rapid  growth 
of  the  woollen  trade,  and  the  increase  of  manufactures  after  the  settle- 
ment of  Flemish  weavers  on  the  eastern  coast ;  in  the  progress  of  the 
towns,  fresh  as  they  were  from  the  victory  of  the  craft-gilds  ;  and  in 


v."" 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


219 


the  developement  of  agriculture  through  the  division  of  lands,  and  tl:e 
rise  of  the  tenant  farmer  and  the  freeholder.  It  gave  nobler  signs  of 
its  activity  in  the  spirit  of  national  independence  and  moral  earnest- 
ness which  awoke  at  the  call  of  Wyclif.  New  forces  of  thought  and 
feeling,  which  were  destined  to  tell  on  every  age  of  our  later  history, 
broke  their  way  through  the  crust  of  feudalism  in  the  socialist  revolt 
of  the  Lollards,  and  a  sudden  burst  of  military  glory  threw  its  glamour 
over  the  age  of  Crdcy  and  Poitiers. 

It  is  this  new  gladness  of  a  great  people  which  utters  itself  in  the 
verse  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer.  Chaucer  was  born  about  1 340,  the  son  of 
a  London  vintner  who  lived  in  Thames  Street  ;  and  it  was  in  London 
that  the  bulk  of  his  life  was  spent.  H  is  family,  though  not  noble, 
seems  to  have  been  of  some  importance,  for  from  the  opening  of  his 
career  we  find  Chaucer  in  close  connexion  with  the  Court.  At  sixteen 
he  was  made  page  to  the  wife  of  Lionel  of  Clarence  ;  at  nineteen  he 
first  bore  arms  in  the  campaign  of  1359.  But  he  was  luckless  enough 
to  be  made  prisoner  ;  and  from  the  time  of  his  release  after  the  treaty 
of  Brdtigny  he  took  no  further  share  in  the  military  enterprises  of  his 
time.  He  seems  again  to  have  returned  to  service  about  the  Court, 
and  it  was  now  that  his  first  poems  made  their  appearance,  and  from 
this  time  John  of  Gaunt  may  be  looked  upon  as  his  patron.  He  was 
employed  in  seven  diplomatic  missions  which  were  probably  connected 
with  the  financial  straits  of  the  Crown,  and  three  of  these,  in  1372, 
1374,  and  T378,  carried  him  to  Italy.  He  visited  Genoa  and  the 
brilliant  court  of  the  Visconti  at  Milan  ;  at  Florence,  where  the 
memory  of  Dante,  the  "  great  master "  whom  he  commemorates  so 
reverently  in  his  verse,  was  still  living,  he  may  have  met  Boccaccio  ; 
at  Padua,  like  his  own  clerk  of  Oxenford,  he  possibly  caught  the  story 
of  Griseldis  from  the  lips  of  Petrarca.  He  was  a  busy,  practical  worker ; 
Comptroller  of  the  Customs  in  1374,  of  the  Petty  Customs  in  1382,  a 
member  of  the  Commons  in  the  Parliament  of  1386,  and  from  138910 
1 39 1  Clerk  of  the  Royal  Works,  busy  with  building  at  Westminster, 
Windsor,  and  the  Tower.  A  single  portrait  has  preserved  for  us  his 
forked  beard,  his  dark-coloured  dress,  the  knife  and  pen  case  at  his 
girdle,  and  we  may  supplement  this  portrait  by  a  few  vivid  touches  of 
his  own.  The  sly,  elvish  face,  the  quick  walk,  the  plump  figure  and 
portly  waist  were  those  of  a  genial  and  humorous  man  ;  but  men 
jested  at  his  silence,  his  love  of  study.  "Thou  lookest  as  thou 
wouldest  find  an  hare,"  laughs  the  Host,  in  the  "  Canterbury  Tales," 
"and  ever  on  the  ground  I  see  thee  stare."  He  heard  little  of  his 
neighbours'  talk  when  office  work  was  over.  "  Thou  goest  home  to 
thy  own  house  anon,  and  also  dumb  as  any  stone  thou  sittest  at 
another  book  till  fully  dazed  is  thy  look,  and  livest  thus  as  an  heremite, 
although,"  he  adds  slyly,  "thy  abstinence  is  lite  "  (little).  But  of  this 
abstraction  from  his  fellows  there  is  no  trace  in  his  verse.      No  poetry 


220 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


/chap. 


was  ever  more  human  than  Chaucer's  ;  none  ever  came  more  frankly 
and  genially  home  to  its  readers.  The  first  note  of  his  song  is  a  note 
of  freshness  and  gladness.  "  Of  ditties  and  of  songes  glad,  the  which 
he  for  my  sake  made,  the  land  fulfilled  is  over  all,"  Gower  makes  Love 
say  in  his  lifetime  ;  and  the  impression  of  gladness  remains  just  as 
fresh  now  that  four  hundred  years  have  passed  away.  The  historical 
character  of  Chaucer's  work  lies  on  its  surface.  It  stands  out  in  vivid 
contrast  with  the  poetic  literature  from  the  heart  of  which  it  sprang. 
The  long  French  romances  were  the  product  of  an  age  of  wealth  and 
ease,  of  indolent  curiosity,  of  a  fanciful  and  self-indulgent  sentiment. 
Of  the  great  passions  which  gave  life  to  the  Middle  Ages,  that  of 
religious  enthusiasm  had  degenerated  into  the  pretty  conceits  of 
Mariolatry,  that  of  war  into  the  extravagances  of  Chivalry.  Love, 
indeed,  remained  ;  it  was  the  one  theme  of  troubadour  and  trouvcre, 
but  it  was  a  love  of  refinement,  of  romantic  follies,  of  scholastic  dis- 
cussions, of  sensuous  enjoyment — a  plaything  rather  than  a  passion. 
Nature  had  to  reflect  the  pleasant  indolence  of  man  ;  the  song  of  the 
minstrel  moved  through  a  perpetual  May-time  ;  the  grass  was  ever 
green  ;  the  music  of  the  lark  and  the  nightingale  rang  out  from  field 
and  thicket.  There  was  a  gay  avoidance  of  all  that  is  serious,  moral, 
or  reflective  in  man's  life  :  life  was  too  amusing  to  be  serious,  too 
piquant,  too  sentimental,  too  full  of  interest  and  gaiety  and  chat.  It 
was  an  age  of  talk:  "mirth  is  none,"  says  the  Host,  "to  ride  on  by 
the  way  dumb  as  a  stone  ;  "  and  the  trouvcre  aimed  simply  at  being 
the  most  agreeable  talker  of  his  day.  His  romances,  his  rimes  of  Sir 
Tristram,  his  Romance  of  the  Rose,  are  full  of  colour  and  fantasy, 
endless  in  detail,  but  with  a  sort  of  gorgeous  idleness  about  their  very 
length,  the  minuteness  of  their  description  of  outer  things,  the  vague- 
ness of  their  touch  when  it  passes  to  the  subtler  inner  world.  It  was 
with  this  literature  that  Chaucer  had  till  now  been  familiar,  and  it 
was  this  which  he  followed  in  his  earlier  work.  But  from  the  time  of 
his  visits  to  Milan  and  Genoa  his  sympathies  drew  him  not  to  the 
dying  verse  of  France,  but  to  the  new  and  mighty  upgrowth  of  poetry 
in  Italy.  Dante's  eagle  looks  at  him  from  the  sun.  "  Fraunces 
Petrark,  the  laureat  poete,"  is  to  him  one  "  whose  rethorique  sweete 
enlumyned  al  Itail  of  poetrie."  The  "  Troilus  "  is  an  enlarged  English 
version  of  Boccaccio's  "  Filostrato,"  the  Knight's  Tale  bears  slight 
traces  of  his  Teseide.  It  was,  indeed,  the  "  Decameron "  which 
suggested  the  very  form  of  the  "  Canterbury  Tales."  But  even  while 
changing,  as  it  were,  the  front  of  English  poetry,  Chaucer  preserves 
his  own  distinct  personality.  If  he  quizzes  in  the  rime  of  Sir  Thopaz 
the  wearisome  idleness  of  the  French  romance,  he  retains  all  that  was 
worth  retaining  of  the  French  temper,  its  rapidity  and  agility  of 
movement,  its  lightness  and  brilliancy  of  touch,  its  airy  mockery,  its 
gaiety  and  good  humour,  its  critical  coolness  and  self-control.     The 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


French  wit  quickens  in  him  more  than  in  any  English  writer  the 
sturdy  sense  and  shrewdness  of  our  national  disposition,  corrects  its 
extravajance,  and  relieves  its  somewhat  ponderous  morality.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  echoes  the  joyous  carelessness  of  the  Italian 
tale,  he  tempers  it  with  the  English  seriousness.  As  he  follows 
Boccaccio,  all  his  changes  are  on  the  side  of  purity  ;  and  when  the 
Troilus  of  the  Florentine  ends  with  the  old  sneer  at  the  change- 
ableness  of  woman,  Chaucer  bids  us  '*'  look  Godward,"  and  dwells 
on  the  unchangeableness  of  Heaven. 

But  the  genius  of  Chaucer  was  neither  French  nor  Italian,  whatever 
element  it  might  borrow  from  either  literature,  but  English  to  the 
core,  and  from  1384  all  trace  of  foreign  influence  dies  away.  The 
great  poem  on  which  his  fame  must  rest,  the  "  Canterbury  Tales,"  was 
begun  after  his  first  visits  to  Italy,  and  its  best  tales  were  written 
between  1384  and  1391.  The  last  ten  years  of  his  life  saw  a  few  more 
tales  added  ;  but  his  power  was  lessening,  and  in  1400  he  rested  from 
his  labours  in  his  last  home,  a  house  in  the  garden  of  St.  Mary's  Chapel 
at  Westminster.  The  framework—  that  of  a  pilgrimage  from  London 
to  Canterbury— not  only  enabled  him  to  string  together  a  number  of 
tales,  composed  at  different  times,  but  lent  itself  admirably  to  the 
peculiar  characteristics  of  his  poetic  temper,  his  dramatic  versatility, 
and  the  universality  of  his  sympathy.  His  tales  cover  the  whole  field 
of  mediaeval  poetry  ;  the  legend  of  the  priest,  the  knightly  romance, 
the  wonder-tale  of  the  traveller,  the  broad  humour  of  the  fabliau, 
allegory  and  apologue  are  all  there.  He  finds  a  yet  wider  scope  for 
his  genius  in  the  persons  who  tell  these  stories,  the  thirty  pilgrims  who 
start  in  the  May  morning  from  the  Tabard  in  Southwark— thirty 
distinct  figures,  representatives  of  every  class  of  English  society  from 
the  noble  to  the  ploughman.  We  see  the  "verray  perfight  gentil 
knight"  in  cassock  and  coat  of  mail,  with  his  curly-headed  squire 
beside  him,  fresh  as  the  May  morning,  and  behind  them  the  brown- 
faced  yeoman,  in  his  coat  and  hood  of  green,  with  the  good  bow  in 
his  hand.  A  group  of  ecclesiastics  ligh<-  up  for  us  the  mediaeval  church 
— the  brawny  hunt-loving  monk,  whose  bridle  jingles  as  loud  and  clear 
as  the  chapel-bell— the  wanton  friar, 'first  among  the  beggars  and 
harpers  of  the  country  side— the  poor  parson,  threadbare,  learned, 
and  devout  ("Christ's  lore  and  His  apostles  twelve  he  taught,  and 
first  he  followed  it  himself")— the  summoner  with  his  fiery  face — the 
pardoner  with  his  wallet  "  bret-fuU  of  pardons,  come  from  Rome  all 
hot"— the  lively  prioress  with  her  courtly  French  Hsp,  her  soft  little 
red  mouth,  and  "  Amor  vincit  omnia  "  graven  on  her  brooch.  Learn- 
ing is  there  in  the  portly  person  of  the  doctor  of  physic,  rich  with  the 
profits  of  the  pestilence— the  busy  serjeant-of-law,  "that  ever  seemed 
busier  than  he  was" — the  hollow-cheeked  clerk  of  Oxford,  with  his 
love  of  books,  and  short  sharp  sentences  that  disguise  a  latent  tender- 


222 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ness  which  breaks  out  at  last  in  the  story  of  Griseldis.  Around  them 
crowd  types  of  English  industry  ;  the  merchant ;  the  franklin,  in 
whose  house  "  it  snowed  of  meat  and  drink ; "  the  sailor  fresh  from 
frays  in  the  Channel ;  the  buxom  wife  of  Bath  ;  the  broad-shouldered 
miller  ;  the  haberdasher,  carpenter,  weaver,  dyer,  tapestry-maker,  each 
in  the  livery  of  his  craft ;  and  last,  the  honest  ploughman,  who  would 
dyke  and  delve  for  the  poor  without  hire.  It  is  the  first  time  in 
English  poetry  that  we  are  brought  face  to  face  not  with  characters  or 
allegories  or  reminiscences  of  the  past,  but  with  living  and  breathing 
men,  men  distinct  in  temper  and  sentiment  as  in  face  or  costume  or 
mode  of  speech  ;  and  with  this  distinctness  of  each  maintained 
throughout  the  story  by  a  thousand  shades  of  expression  and  action. 
It  is  the  first  time  too,  that  we  meet  with  the  dramatic  power  which 
not  only  creates  each  character,  but  combines  it  with  its  fellows,  which 
not  only  adjusts  each  tale  or  jest  to  the  temper  of  the  person  who 
utters  it,  but  fuses  all  into  a  poetic  unity.  It  is  life  in  its  largeness,  its 
variety,  its  complexity,  which  surrounds  us  in  the  '*  Canterbury  Tales." 
In  some  of  the  stories,  indeed,  composed  no  doubt  at  an  earlier  time, 
there  is  the  tedium  of  the  old  romance  or  the  pedantry  of  the  school- 
man ;  but  taken  as  a  whole  the  poem  is  the  work  not  of  a  man  of 
letters,  but  of  a  man  of  action.  Chaucer  has  received  his  training 
from  war,  courts,  business,  travel — a  training  not  of  books,  but  of  life. 
And  it  is  life  that  he  loves — the  delicacy  of  its  sentiment,  the  breadth 
of  its  farce,  its  laughter  and  its  tears,  the  tenderness  of  its  Griseldis  or 
the  Smollett-like  adventures  of  the  miller  and  the  clerks.  It  is  this 
largeness  of  heart,  this  wide  tolerance,  which  enables  him  to  reflect 
man  for  us  as  none  but  Shakspere  has  ever  reflected  him,  and  to 
do  this  with  a  pathos,  a  shrewd  sense  and  kindly  humour,  a 
freshness  and  joyousness  of  feeling,  that  even  Shakspere  has  not 
surpassed. 

It  is  strange  that  such  a  voice  as  this  should  have  awakened  no 
echo  in  the  singers  who  follow  ;  but  the  first  burst  of  English  song 
died  as  suddenly  and  utterly  with  Chaucer  as  the  hope  and  glory  of 
his  age.  The  hundred  year.s  which  follow  the  brief  sunshine  of  Cr^y 
and  the  "  Canterbury  Tales  "  itre  years  of  the  deepest  gloom  ;  no  age 
of  our  history,  is  more  sad  andsombre  than  the  age  which  we  traverse 
from  the  third  Edward  to  Joan  of  Arc.  The  throb  of  hope  and  glory 
which  pulsed  at  its  outset  through  every  class  of  English  society  died 
at  its  close  into  inaction  or  despair.  Material  life  lingered  on  indeed, 
commerce  still  widened,  but  its  progress  was  dissociated  from  ^W  the 
A  nobler  elements  of  national  well-being.  The  towns  sank  again  into 
close  oligarchies  ;  the  bondsmen  struggling  forward  to  freedom  fell 
back  into  a  serfage  which  still  leaves  its  trace  on  the  soil.  Literature 
reached  its  lowest  ebb.  The  religious  revival  of  the  Lollard  was 
trodden  out  in  blood,  while  the  Church  shrivelled  into  a  self-seeking 


yivvV-tt^-^  Mx^  c^'OcU^ 


V.J 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


92^ 


secular  priesthood.  In  the  clash  of  civil  strife  political  freedom  was  all 
but  extinguished,  and  the  age  which  began  with  the  Good  Parliament 
ended  with  the  despotism  of  the  Tudors. 

The  secret  of  ihe  change  is  to  be  found  in  the  fatal  war  which  for 
more  than  a  hundred  years  drained  the  strength  and  corrupted  the 
temper  of  the  English  people.  We  have  followed  the  attack  on 
Scotland  to  its  disastrous  close,  but  the  struggle  ere  it  ended,  had 
involved  England  in  a  second  contest,  to  which  we  must  now  turn 
back,  a  contest  yet  more  ruinous  than  that  which  Edward  the  First 
had  begun.  From  the  war  with  Scotland  sprang  the  hundred  years' 
struggle  with  France.  From  the  first  France  had  watched  the  suc- 
cesses of  her  rival  in  the  north,  partly  with  a  natural  jealousy,  but  still 
more  as  likely  to  afford  her  an  opening  for  winning  the  great  southern 
Duchy  of  Guienne  and  Gascony — the  one  fragment  of  Eleanor's  in- 
heritance which  remained  to  her  descendants.  Scotland  had  no 
sooner  begun  to  resent  the  clai  ns  of  her  over-lord,  Edward  the  First, 
than  a  pretext  for  open  quarrel  was  found  by  France  in  the  rivalry 
between  the  mariners  of  Normandy  and  those  of  the  Cinque  Ports, 
which  culminated  at  the  moment  in  a  great  sea-fight  that  proved  fatal 
to  8,000  Frenchmen.  So  eager  was  Edward  to  avert  a  quarrel  with 
France,  that  his  threats  roused  the  English  seamen  to  a  characteristic 
defiance.  "  Be  the  King's  Council  well  advised,"  ran  the  remonstrance 
of  the  mariners,  "  that  if  wrong  or  grievance  be  done  them  in  any 
fashion  against  right,  they  will  sooner  forsake  wives,  children,  and  all 
that  they  have,  and  go  seek  through  the  seas  where  they  shall  think 
to  make  their  profit."  In  spite,  therefore,  of  Edward's  efforts  the 
contest  continue^,  and  Philip  found  an  opportunity  to  cite  the  King 
before  his  court  at  Paris  for  wrongs  done  to  him  as  suzerain.  Again 
Edward  endeavoured  to  avert  the  conflict  by  a  formal  cession  of 
Guienne  into  Philip's  hands  during  forty  days,  but  the  refusal  of  the 
French  sovereign  to  restore  the  province  left  no  choice  for  him  but 
war.  The  refusal  of  the  Scotch  barons  to  answer  his  summons  to 
arms,  and  the  revolt  of  Balliol,  proved  that  the  French  outrage  was 
but  the  first  blow  in  a  deliberate  and  long-planned  scheme  of  attack  ; 
Edward  had  for  a  while  no  force  to  waste  on  France,  and  when  the 
first  conquest  of  Scotland  freed  his  hands,  his  league  with  Flanders  for 
the  recovery  of  Guienne  was  foiled  by  the  strife  with  his  baronage. 
A  truce  with  Philip  set  him  free  to  meet  new  troubles  in  the  north  ;  but 
even  after  the  victory  of  Falkirk  Scotch  independence  was  still  saved 
for  six  years  bythe  threats  of  France  and  the  intervention  of  its  ally,  Boni- 
face the  Eighth  ;  and  it  was  only  the  quarrel  of  these  two  confederates 
which  allowed  Edward  to  complete  its  subjection.  But  the  rising  under 
Bruce  was  again  backed  by  French  aid  and  by  the  renewal  of  the  old 
quarrel  over  Guienne— a  quarrel  which  hampered  England  through 
the  reign  of  Edward  the  Second,  and  which  indirectly  brought  about 


224 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


his  terrible  fall.  The  accession  of  Edward  the  Third  secured  a 
momentary  peace,  but  the  fresh  attack  on  Scotland  which  marked  the 
opening  of  his  reign  kindled  hostility  anew  ;  the  young  King  David 
found  refuge  in  France,  and  arms,  money,  and  men  were  despatched 
from  its  ports  to  support  his  cause.  It  was  this  intervention  of  France 
which  foiled  Edward's  hopes  of  the  submission  of  Scotland  at  the  very 
moment  when  success  seemed  in  his  grasp  ;  the  solemn  announcement 
by  Philip  of  Valois  that  his  treaties  bound  him  to  give  effective  help  U> 
his  old  ally,  and  the  assembly  of  a  French  fleet  in  the  Channel  drew 
the  King  from  his  struggle  in  the  north  to  face  a  storm  which  his 
negotiations  could  no  longer  avert. 

From  the  first  the  war  took  European  dimensions  The  weakness 
of  the  Empire,  the  captivity  of  the  Papacy  at  Avignon,  left  France 
without  a  rival  among  European  powers.  In  numbers,  in  wealth,  the 
French  people  far  surpassed  their  neighbours  over  the  Channel. 
England  can  hardly  have  counted  four  millions  of  in'.abitants,  F'rance 
boasted  of  twenty.  Edward  could  only  bring  eight  thousand  men-at- 
arms  into  the  field.  Philip,  while  a  third  of  his  force  was  busy  else- 
where, could  appear  at  the  head  of  forty  thousand.  Edward's  whole 
energy  was  bent  on  meeting  the  strength  of  France  by  a  coalition  of 
powers  against  her  ;  and  his  plans  were  helped  by  the  dread  which 
the  great  feudatories  of  the  Empire  who  lay  nearest  to  him  felt  of 
French  annexation,  as  well  as  by  the  quarrel  of  the  Empire  with  the 
Papacy.  Anticipating  the  later  policy  of  Godolphin  and  Pitt, 
Edward  became  the  paymaster  of  the  poorer  princes  of  Germany  ;  his 
subsidies  purchased  ihe  aid  of  Hainault,  Gelders,  and  Jiilich  ;  sixty 
thousand  crowns  went  to  the  Duke  of  Brabant,  while  the  Emperor  him- 
self was  induced  by  a  promise  of  three  thousand  gold  florins  to  furnish 
two  thousand  men-at-arms.  Negotiations  and  profuse  expenditure, 
however,  brought  the  King  little  fruit  save  the  title  of  Vicar-General  of 
the  Empire  on  the  lefi  of  the  Rhine  ;  now  the  Emperor  hung  back, 
now  the  allies  refused  to  move  ;  and  when  the  host  at  last  crossed  the 
border,  Edward  found  it  impossible  to  bring  the  French  king  to  an 
en[,'agement.  But  as  hope  from  the  Imperial  alliance  faded  away,  a 
fresh  hope  dawned  on  the  King  from  another  quarter  Flanders  was 
his  natural  ally.  England  was  the  great  wool-producing  country  of 
the  west,  but  few  woollen  fabrics  were  woven  in  England.  The  number 
of  weavers'  gilds  shows  that  the  trade  was  gradually  extending, 
and  at  the  very  outset  of  his  reign  Edward  had  taken  steps  for  its 
encouragement.  He  invited  P'lemish  weavers  to  settle  in  his  country, 
and  took  the  new  immigrants,  who  chose  the  ea->tern  counties 
for  the  seat  of  their  trade,  under  his  royal  protection.  But  English 
manufactures  were  still  in  their  infancy,  and  nine-tenths  of  the  English 
wool  went  to  the  looms  of  Bruges  or  of  Ghent.  We  may  see  the  rapid 
growth  of  this  export  trade  in  the  fact  that  the  Kinir  received  in  a 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


225 


single  year  more  than  ;^ 30,000  from  duties  levied  on  wool  alone.  A 
stoppage  of  this  export  would  throw  half  the  population  of  the  great 
Flemish  towns  out  of  work  ;  and  Flanders  was  drawn  to  the  English 
alliance,  not  only  by  the  interest  of  trade,  but  by  the  democratic  spirit 
of  the  towns  which  jostled  roughly  with  the  feudalism  of  France.  A 
treaty  was  concluded  with  the  Duke  of  Brabant  and  the  Flemish 
towns,  and  preparations  were  made  for  a  new  campaign.  Philip 
gathered  a  fleet  of  two  hundred  vessels  at  Sluys  to  prevent  his  crossing 
the  Channel,  but  Edward  with  a  far  smaller  force  utterly  destroyed 
the  French  ships,  and  marched  to  invest  Tournay.  Its  siege  however 
proved  fruitless  ;  his  vast  army  broke  up,  and  want  of  money  forced 
him  to  a  truce  for  a  year.  A  quarrel  of  succession  to  the  Duchy  of 
Brittany,  which  broke  out  in  1341,  and  in  which  of  the  two  rival 
claimants  one  was  supported  by  Ph. lip  and  the  other  by  Edward, 
dragged  on  year  after  year.  In  Flanders  things  went  ill  for  the 
English  cause,  and  the  death  of  the  great  statesman  Van  Arteveldt  in 
1345  proved  a  heavy  blow  to  Edward's  projects.  The  Kmg's  difficulties 
indeed  had  at  last  reached  their  height.  His  loans  from  the  great 
bankers  of  Florence  amounted  to  half  a  million  of  our  money  ;  his 
overtures  for  peace  were  contemptuously  rejected  ;  the  claim  which 
he  advanced  to  the  French  crown  found  not  a  single  adherent  save 
among  the  burghers  of  Ghent.  To  establish  such  a  claim,  indeed,  was 
difficult  enough.  The  three  sons  of  Philip  the  Fair  had  died  without 
male  issue,  and  Edward  claimed  as  the  son  of  Phihp's  daughter 
Isabella.  But  though  her  brothers  had  left  no  sons,  they  had  left 
daughters  ;  and  if  female  succession  were  admitted,  these  daughters  cf 
Philip's  sons  would  precede  a  son  of  Philip's  daughter.  Isabella  met 
this  difficulty  by  contending  that  though  females  could  transmit  the 
right  of  succession  they  could  not  themselves  possess  it,  and  that  her 
son,  as  the  nearest  living  male  descendant  of  Philip,  <md  born  in  his 
lifetime,  could  claim  in  preference  to  females  who  were  related  to 
Phihp  in  as  near  a  degree.  But  tke  bulk  of  French  jurists  asserted 
that  only  male  succession  gave  right  to  the  throne.  On  such  a  theory 
the  right  inheritable  from  Philip  was  exhausted ;  and  the  crown  passed 
to  the  son  of  his  brother  Charles  of  Valois,  who  in  fact  peacefully 
mounted  the  throne  as  Philip  the  Fifth.  Edward's  claim  seems  to 
have  been  regarded  on  both  sides  as  a  mere  formality  ;  the  King,  in 
fact,  did  full  and  liege  homage  to  his  rival  for  his  Duchy  of  Guienne  ; 
and  it  was  not  till  his  hopes  from  Germany  had  been  exhausted,  and 
his  claim  was  found  to  be  useful  in  securing  the  loyal  aid  of  the 
Flemish  towns,  that  it  was  brought  seriously  to  the  front. 

The  failure  of  his  foreign  hopes  threw  Edward  on  the  resources  of 
England  itself,  and  it  was  with  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men  that 
he  landed  at  La  Hogue,  and  commenced  a  march  which  was  to  change 
the  whole  face  of  the  war.     The  P'rench  forces  were  engaged  in  hold- 

I 


226 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ing  in  check  an  English  army  which  had  landed  in  Gu'enne  ;  and 
panic  seized  the  French  King  as  Edward  now  marched  through 
Normandy,  and  finding  the  bridges  on  the  lower  Seine  broken,  pushed 
straight  on  Paris,  rebuilt  the  bridge  of  Poissy  and  threatened  the 
capital.  At  this  crisis,  however,  France  found  an  unexpected  help  in 
a  body  of  German  knights.  The  Pope  having  deposed  the  Emperor 
Lewis  of  I3a\  aria,  had  crowned  as  his  successor  a  son  of  King  John 
of  Bohemia,  the  well-known  Charles  IV.  of  the  Golden  Bull.  But 
against  this  Papal  assumption  of  a  right  to  bestow  the  German  Crown, 
Germany  rose  as  one  man,  and  Charles,  driven  to  seek  help  from 
Philip,  now  found  himself  in  France  with  his  father  and  a  troop  of  five 
hundred  knights.  Hurrying  to  Paris  this  German  force  formed  the 
nucleus  of  an  army  which  assembled  at  St.  Denys ;  and  which  was 
soon  reinforced  by  1 5,000  Genoese  cross-bowmen  who  had  been  hired 
from  among  the  soldiers  of  the  Lord  of  Monaco  on  the  sunny  Riviera, 
and  arrived  at  this  hour  of  need.  The  French  troops  too  were  called 
from  Guienne  to  the  rescue.  With  this  host  rapidly  gathering  in 
his  front  Edward  abandoned  his  march  on  Paris,  and  threw  himself 
across  the  Seine  to  join  a  Plemish  force  gathered  at  Gravel ines,  and 
open  a  campaign  in  the  north.  But  the  rivers  in  his  path  were 
carefully  guarded,  and  it  was  only  by  surprising  the  ford  ot  Blanche- 
Taque  on  the  Somme,  that  Edward  escaped  the  necessity  of  surren- 
dering to  the  vast  host  which  was  now  hastening  in  pursuit.  His  com- 
munications, however,  were  no  sooner  secured  than  he  halted  at  the 
village  of  Crdcy,  in  Ponthieu,  and  resolved  to  give  battle.  Half  of 
his  army,  now  greatly  reduced  in  strength  by  his  rapid  marches,  con- 
sisted of  the  light-armed  footmen  of  Ireland  and  Wales  ;  the  bulk  of 
the  remainder  was  composed  of  English  bowmen.  The  King  ordered 
his  men-at-arms  to  dismount,  and  drew  up  his  forces  on  a  low  rise 
sloping  gently  to  the  south-east,  with  a  windmill  on  its  summit  from 
which  he  could  overlook  the  whole  field  of  battle.  Immediately 
beneath  him  lay  his  reserve,  while  at  the  base  of  the  slope  was  placed 
the  main  body  of  the  army  in  two  divisions,  that  to  the  right  com- 
manded by  the  young  Prince  of  Wales,  Edward  the  Black  Prince  as 
he  was  called,  that  to  the  left  by  the  Earl  of  Northampton.  A  small 
ditch  protected  the  English  front,  and  behind  it  Uie  bowmen  were 
drawn  up  **  in  the  form  of  a  harrow,"  widi  small  bombards  between 
them  "  which,  with  fire,  threw  little  iron  balls  to  frighten  the  horses" — 
the  first  instance  of  the  use  of  artillery  in  field  warfare.  The  halt  of 
the  English  army  took  Philip  by  surprise,  and  he  attempted  for  a  time 
to  check  the  advance  of  his  army,  but  the  disorderly  host  rolled  on  lo 
the  English  front.  The  sight  of  his  enemies,  indeed,  stirred  the 
King's  own  blood  to  fury,  "  for  he  hated  them,"  and  at  vespers  the 
fight  began.  The  Genoese  crossbowmen  were  ordered  to  begin  the 
attack,  but  the  men  were  weary  with  the  march;  a  sudden  storm 


v.\ 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


22> 


wetted  and  rendered  useless  their  bowstrings  ;  and  the  loud  shouts 
with  which  they  leapt  forward  to  the  encounter  were  met  with  dogged 
silence  in  the  English  ranks.  Their  first  arrow-flight,  however, 
brought  a  terrible  reply.  So  rapid  was  the  English  shot,  "  that  it 
seemed  as  if  it  snowed."  "  Kill  me  these  scoundrels,"  shouted  Philip, 
as  the  Genoese  fell  back  ;  and  his  men-at-arms  plunged  butchering 
into  their  broken  ranks,  while  the  Counts  of  Alengon  and  Flanders,  at 
the  head  of  the  French  knighthood,  fell  hotly  on  the  Prince's  line. 
For  the  instant  his  small  force  seemed  lost,  but  Edward  refused  to 
send  him  aid.  "  Is  he  dead  or  unhorsed,  or  so  wounded  that  he  cannot 
help  himself?"  he  asked  the  envoy.  "No,  Sir,"  was  the  reply,  " but  he 
is  in  a  hard  passage  of  arms,  and  sorely  needs  your  help."  "  Return 
to  ihose  that  sent  you.  Sir  Thomas,"  said  the  King,  "  and  bid  them  not 
send  to  me  again  so  long  as  my  son  lives  !  Let  the  boy  win  his  spurs  ; 
for  if  God  so  order  it,  I  will  that  the  day  may  be  his,  and  that  the 
honour  may  be  with  him  and  them  to  whom  I  have  given  it  in  charge." 
Edward  could  see,  in  fact,  from  his  higher  ground,  that  all  went  well. 
The  English  bowmen  and  men-at-arms  held  their  ground  stoutly, 
while  the  Welshmen  stabbed  the  French  horses  in  the  melde,  and 
brought  knight  after  knight  to  the  ground.  Soon  the  French  host  was 
wavering  in  a  fatal  confusion.  "  You  are  my  vassals,  my  friends," 
cried  the  blind  King  John  of  Bohemia,  who  had  joined  PhiHp's  army, 
to  the  German  nobles  around  him :  "I  pray  and  beseech  you  to  lead 
me  so  far  into  the  fight  that  I  may  strike  one  good  blow  with  this 
sword  of  mine  ! "  Linking  their  bridles  together,  the  little  company 
plunged  into  the  thick  of  the  combat  to  fall  as  their  fellows  were  fall- 
ing. The  battle  went  steadily  against  the  French:  at  last  Philip 
himself  hurried  from  the  field,  and  the  defeat  became  a  rout:  1,200 
knights  and  30,000  footmen — a  number  equal  to  the  whole  English 
for.e — lay  dead  upon  the  ground. 

"  God  has  punished  us  for  our  sins,"  cries  the  chronicler  of  St. 
Denys,  in  a  passion  of  bewildered  grief,  as  he  tells  the  rout  of  the 
great  host  which  he  had  seen  mustering  beneath  his  abbey  walls.  But 
the  fall  of  France  was  hardly  so  sudden  or  so  incomprehensible  as  the 
ruin  at  a  single  blow  of  a  system  of  warfare,  and  of  the  political  and 
social  fabric  which  rested  on  it.  Feudalism  depended  on  the 
superiority  of  the  mounted  noble  to  the  unmounted  churl ;  its  fighting 
power  lay  in  its  knighthood.  But  the  English  yeomen  and  small 
freeholders  who  bore  the  bow  in  the  national  fyrd  had  raised  their 
weapon  into  a  terrible  engine  of  war  ;  in  the  English  archers  Edward 
carried  a  new  class  of  soldiers  to  the  fields  of  France.  The  churl  had 
struck  down  the  noble ;  the  yeoman  proved  more  than  a  match 
in  sheer  hard  fighting  for  the  knight.  From  the  day  of  Crdcy 
feudalism  tottered  slowly  but  surely  to  its  grave.  To  England  the 
day  was  the  beginning  of  a  career  of  military  glory,  which,  fatal  as  it 


228 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


was  destined  to  prove  to  the  higher  sentiments  and  interests  of  the 
nation,  gave  it  for  the  moment  an  energy  such  as  it  had  never  known 
before.  Victory  followed  victory.  A  few  months  after  Crecy  a  Scotch 
army  which  had  burst  into  the  north  was  routed  at  Neville's  Cross, 
and  its  King,  Uavid  Bruce,  taken  prisoner  ;  while  the  withdrawal  of 
the  French  from  the  Garonne  enabled  the  English  to  recover  Poitou. 
Edward  meanwhile  turned  to  strike  at  the  naval  superiority  of  France 
by  securing  the  mastery  of  the  Channel.  Calais  was  a  great  pirate- 
haven  ;  in  one  year  alone,  twenty-two  privateers  had  sailed  from  its 
port ;  while  its  capture  promised  the  King  an  easy  base  of  com- 
municat  on  with  Flanders,  and  of  operations  against  France.  The 
siege  lasted  a  year,  and  it  was  not  till  Philip  had  failed  to  relieve  it 
that  the  town  was  starved  into  surrender.  Mercy  was  granted  to  the 
garrison  and  the  people  on  condition  that  six  of  the  citizens  gave 
themselves  unconditionally  into  the  King's  hands.  "  (3n  them,"  said 
Edward,  with  a  burst  of  bitter  hatred,  "  I  will  do  my  will."  At  the 
sound  of  the  town  bell,  Jehan  le  Bel  tells  us,  the  folk  of  Calais  gathered 
round  the  bearer  of  these  terms,  "desiring  to  hear  their  good  news, 
for  they  were  all  mad  with  hunger.  When  the  said  knight  told  them 
his  news,  then  began  they  to  weep  and  cry  so  loudly  that  it  was  great 
pity.  Then  stood  up  the  wealthiest  burgess  of  the  town.  Master 
Eustache  de  S.  Pierre  by  name,  and  spake  thus  before  all :  '  My  masters, 
great  grief  and  mishap  it  were  for  all  to  leave  such  a  people  as  this  is 
to  die  by  famine  or  otherwise  ;  and  great  charity  and  grace  would  he 
win  from  our  Lord  who  could  defend  them  from  dying.  For  me,  I 
have  great  hope  in  the  Lord  that  if  I  can  save  this  people  by  my  death, 
I  shall  have  pardon  for  my  faults,  wherefore  will  I  be  the  first  of  the 
six,  and  of  my  own  will  put  myself  barefoot  in  my  shirt  and  with  a 
halter  round  my  neck  in  the  mercy  of  King  Edward.' "  The  list  of 
devoted  men  was  soon  made  up,  and  the  six  victims  were  led  before 
the  King.  "  All  the  host  assembled  together  ;  there  was  great  press, 
and  many  bade  hang  them  openly,  and  many  wept  for  pity  The 
noble  King  came  with  his  train  of  counts  and  barons  to  the  place,  and 
the  Queen  followed  him,  though  great  with  child,  to  see  what  there 
would  be.  The  six  citizens  knelt  down  at  once  before  the  King,  and 
Master  Eustache  said  thus:  'Gentle  King,  here  be  we  six  who  have 
been  of  the  old  bourgeoisie  of  Calais  and  great  merchants  ;  we  bring 
you  the  keys  of  the  town  and  castle  of  Calais,  and  render  them  to  you 
at  your  pleasure.  We  set  ourselves  in  such  wise  as  you  see  purely  at 
your  will,  to  save  the  remnant  of  the  people  that  has  suffered  much 
pain.  So  may  you  have  pity  and  mercy  on  us  for  your  high  nobleness' 
sake.'  Certes,  there  was  then  in  that  place  neither  lord  nor  knight  that 
wept  not  for  pity,  nor  who  could  speak  for  pity  ;  but  the  King  had  his 
heart  so  hardened  by  wrath,  that  for  a  long  while  he  could  not  reply  ; 
then  he  commanded  to  cut  off  their  heads.     All  the  knights  and  l«rds 


v.l 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


229 


prayed  him  with  tears,  as  much  as  they  could,  to  have  pity  on  them, 
but  he  would  not  hear.  Then  spoke  the  gentle  knight,  Master  Walter 
de  Maunay,  and  said,  '  Ha,  gentle  sire  !  bridle  your  wrath  ;  you  have 
the  renown  and  good  fame  of  all  gentleness  ;  do  not  a  thing  whereby 
men  can  speak  any  villany  of  you  !  If  you  have  no  pity,  all  men  will 
say  that  you  have  a  heart  full  of  all  cruelty  to  put  these  good  citizens 
to  death  that  of  their  own  will  are  come  to  render  themselves  to  you 
to  save  the  remnant  of  their  people.'  At  this  point  the  King  changed 
countenance  with  wrath,  and  said,  '  Hold  your  peace.  Master  Walter  ! 
it  shall  be  none  otherwise.  Call  the  headsman  !  They  of  Calais  have 
made  so  many  of  my  men  die,  that  they  must  die  themselves  ! '  Then 
did  the  noble  Queen  of  England  a  deed  of  noble  lowliness,  seeing  she 
was  great  with  child,  and  wept  so  tenderly  for  pity,  that  she  could  no 
longer  stand  upright ;  therefore  she  cast  herself  on  her  knees  before 
her  lord  the  King,  and  spake  on  this  wise  :  '  Ah,  gentle  sire  !  from  the 
(lay  that  I  passed  over  sea  in  great  peril,  as  you  know,  I  have  as'^ed 
for  nothing :  now  pray  I  and  beseech  you,  with  folded  hands,  for  the 
love  of  our  Lady's  Son,  to  have  mercy  upon  them.'  The  gentle  King 
waited  for  a  while  before  speaking,  and  looked  on  the  Queen  as  she 
knelt  before  him  bitterly  weeping.  Then  began  his  heart  to  soften  a 
little,  and  he  said,  '  Lady,  I  would  rather  you  had  been  otherwhere  ; 
you  pray  so  tenderly,  that  I  dare  not  refuse  you  ;  and  though  I  do  it 
against  my  will,  nevertheless  take  them,  I  give  them  to  you.'  Then 
took  he  the  six  citizens  by  the  halters  and  dehvered  them  to  the  Queen, 
and  released  from  death  all  those  of  Calais  for  the  love  of  her  ;  and 
the  good  lady  bade  them  clothe  the  six  burgesses  and  make  them 
good  cheer." 

Edward  now  stood  at  the  height  of  his  renown.  He  had  won  the 
greatest  victory  of  his  age.  France,  till  now  the  first  of  European 
states,  was  broken  and  dashed  from  her  pride  of  place  at  a  single  blow. 
A  naval  picture  of  Froissart  sketches  Edward  for  us  as  he  sailed  to 
meet  a  Spanish  fleet  which  was  sweeping  the  narrow  seas  We  see 
the  King  sitting  on  deck  in  his  jacket  of  black  velvet,  his  head  covered 
by  a  black  beaver  hat  ''  which  became  him.  well,"  and  calling  on  Sir 
John  Chandos  to  troll  out  the  songs  he  had  brought  with  him  from 
Germany,  till  the  Spanish  ships  heave  in  sight  and  a  furious  fight 
begins  which  ends  in  a  victory  that  leaves  Edward  "  King  of  the  Seas." 
But  peace  with  France  was  as  far  off  as  ever.  Even  the  truce  which 
for  seven  years  was  forced  on  both  countries  by  sheer  exhaustion 
became  at  last  impossible.  Edward  prepared  three  armies  to  act  at 
once  in  Normandy,  Brittany,  and  Guienne,  but  the  plan  of  the  cam- 
paign broke  down.  The  Black  Prince,  as  the  hero  of  Crdcy  was 
called,  alone  won  a  disgraceful  success.  Unable  to  pay  his  troops,  he 
staved  off  their  demands  by  a  campaign  of  sheer  pillage.  Northern 
and  central  France  had  by  this  time  fallen  into  utter  ruin  ;  the  royal 


ato 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


tr;aiiury  was  empty,  the  fortresses  unoccupied,  the  troops  di -banded 
for  want  of  pay,  the  country  swept  by  bandits.  Only  the  south 
remained  at  peace,  and  the  young  Prince  led  his  army  of  freebooters 
up  the  Garonne  into  "  what  was  before  one  of  the  fat  countries  of  the 
world,  the  people  good  and  simple,  who  did  not  know  what  war  was  ; 
indeed,  no  war  had  been  waged  against  them  till  the  Prince  came. 
The  English  and  Gascons  found  the  country  full  and  gay,  the  rooms 
adorned  with  carpets  and  draperies,  the  caskets  and  chests  full  of  fair 
jewels.  But  nothing  was  safe  from  these  robbers.  They,  and  especially 
the  Gascons,  who  are  very  greedy,  carried  off  everything,"  The 
capture  of  Narbonne  loaded  them  with  booty,  and  they  fell  back 
to  Bordeaux,  "  their  horses  so  laden  with  spoil  that  they  could  hardily 
move."  The  next  year  a  march  of  the  Prince's  army  on  the  Loire 
pointed  straight  upon  Paris,  and  a  French  army  under  John,  who  had 
succeeded  Philip  of  Valois  on  the  throne,  hurried  to  check  his  advance. 
The  Prince  gave  orders  for  a  retreat,  but  as  he  approached  Poitiers  he 
found  the  French,  who  now  numbered  60,000  men,  in  his  path.  He 
at  once  took  a  strong  position  in  the  fields  of  Maupertuis,  his  front 
covered  by  thick  hedges,  and  approach  ible  only  by  a  deep  and  narrow 
lane  which  ran  between  vineyards.  The  Prince  lined  the  vineyards 
and  hedges  with  bowmen,  and  drew  up  his  small  body  of  men-at-arms 
at  the  point  where  the  lane  opened  upon  the  higher  plain  where  he 
was  encamped.  His  force  numbered  only  8,000  men,  and  the  danger 
was  great  enough  to  force  him  to  offer  the  surrender  of  his  prisoners 
and  of  the  places  he  ha  I  taken,  and  an  oath  not  to  fight  against  France 
for  seven  years,  in  exchange  for  a  free  retreat.  The  terms  were 
rejected,  and  three  hundred  French  knights  charged  up  the  narrow 
lane.  It  was  soon  choked  with  men  and  horses,  while  the  front  ranks 
of  the  advancing  army  fell  back  before  a  galling  fire  of  arrows  from  the 
hedgerows.  In  the  moment  of  confusion  a  body  of  English  horsemen, 
posted  on  a  hill  to  the  right,  charged  suddenly  on  the  French  flank,  and 
the  Prince  seized  the  opportunity  to  fall  boldly  on  their  front.  The 
English  archery  completed  the  disorder  produced  by  this  sudden 
attack  ;  the  French  King  was  taken,  desperately  fighting  ;  and  at 
noontide,  when  his  army  poured  back  in  utter  rout  to  the  gates  of 
Poitiers,  8,000  of  their  number  had  fallen  on  the  field,  3,000  in  the 
flight,  and  2,000  men-at-arms,  with  a  crowd  of  nobles,  were  taken 
prisoners.  The  royal  captive  entered  London  in  triumph,  and  a  truce 
for  two  years  seemed  to  give  healing-time  to  France,  liut  the  mis- 
erable country  found  no  rest  in  itself.  The  routed  soldiery  turned  into 
free  companies  of  bandits,  while  the  captive  lords  procured  the  sums 
needed  for  their  ransom  by  extortion  from  the  peasantry,  who  were 
driven  by  oppression  and  famine  into  wild  insurrection,  butchering 
their  lords,  and  firing  the  castles  ;  while  Paris,  imp;Uient  of  the 
weakness  and  misrule  of  the   Regency,  rose  in  arms  against  the 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


231 


Crown.  The  "  Jacquerie,"  as  the  peasant  rising  was  called,  had  hardly 
been  crushed,  when  Edward  again  poured  ravaging  over  the  wasted 
land.  Famine,  however,  proved  its  best  defence.  "  I  could  not 
believe,"  said  Petrarch  of  this  time,  "  that  this  was  the  same  France 
which  I  had  seen  so  rich  and  flourishing.  Nothing  presented  itself 
to  my  eyes  but  a  fearful  solitude,  an  utter  poverty,  land  uncultivated, 
houses  in  ruins.  Even  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris  showed  everywhere 
marks  of  desolation  and  conflagration.  The  streets  are  deserted, 
the  roads  overgrown  with  weeds,  the  whole  is  a  vast  solitude,"  The 
misery  of  the  land  at  last  bent  Charles  to  submission,  and  in  May  a 
treaty  was  concluded  at  Br^tigny,  a  small  place  to  the  eastward  of 
Chartres.  By  this  treaty  the  English  King  waived  his  claims  on  the 
crown  of  France  and  on  the  Duchy  of  Normandy.  On  the  other 
hand,  his  Duchy  of  Aquitaine,  which  included  Gascony,  Poitou,  and 
Saintonge,  the  Limousin  and  the  Angoumois,  Pe'rigord  and  the 
counties  of  Bigorre  and  Rouergue,  was  not  only  restored  but  freed 
from  its  obligations  as  a  French  fief,  and  granted  in  full  sovereignty 
with  Ponthieu,  Edward's  heritage  from  the  second  wife  of  Edward  the 
First,  as  well  as  with  Guisnes  and  his  new  conquest  of  Calais. 


Section  II.— The  Good  Parliament,  1360— 1377. 

[Authoriiies. — As  in  the  last  period.  An  anonymous  chronicler  whose  work 
is  printed  in  ihe  "  Archa;ologia"  (vol.  22)  gives  the  story  of  the  Good  Parlia- 
ment ;  another  account  is  preserved  in  the  "Chronica  Anglise  from  1328  to 
J388  "  (Rolls  Series),  and  fresh  light  has  been  recently  thrown  on  the  lime  by 
the  publication  of  a  Chronicle  by  Adam  of  Usk  fiom  1377  to  1404.] 

If  we  turn  from  the  stirring  but  barren  annals  of  foreign  warfare  to 
the  more  fruitful  field  of  constitutional  progress,  we  are  at  once  struck 
with  a  marked  change  which  takes  place  during  this  period  in  the 
composition  of  Parliament.  The  division,  with  which  we  are  so  familiar, 
into  a  House  of  Lords  and  a  House  of  Commons,  formed  no  part  of 
the  original  plan  of  Edward  the  First  ;  in  the  earlier  Parliaments, 
each  of  the  four  orders  of  clergy,  barons,  knights,  and  burgesses  met, 
deliberated,  and  made  their  grants  apart  from  each  other.  This  isola- 
tion, however,  of  the  Estates  soon  showed  signs  of  breaking  down. 
While  the  clergy,  as  we  have  seen,  held  steadily  aloof  from  any  real 
union  with  its  fellow-orders,  the  knights  of  the  shire  were  drawn  by 
the  similarity  of  their  social  position  into  a  close  connexion  with  the 
lords.  They  seem,  in  fact,  to  have  been  soon  admitted  by  the  baron- 
age to  an  almost  equal  position  with  themselves,  whether  as  legislators 
or  counsellors  of  the  Crown.  The  burgesses,  on  the  other  hand,  took 
little  part  at  first  in  Parliamentary  proceedings,  save  in  those  which 
related  to  the  taxation  of  their  class.     But  their  position  was  raised 


232 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAl 


by  the  strifes  of  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Second,  when  their  aid  was 
needed  by  the  baronage  in  its  struggle  with  the  Crown  ;  and  their 
right  to  share  fully  in  all  legislative  action  was  asserted  in  the  famous 
statute  of  1322.  Gradually  too,  through  causes  with  which  we  are 
imperfectly  acquainted,  the  knights  of  the  shire  drifted  from  their  older 
connexion  with  the  baronage  into  so  close  and  intimate  a  union  with 
the  representatives  of  the  towns  that  at  the  opening  of  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Third  the  two  orders  are  found  grouped  formaHy  together, 
under  the  name  of  "  The  Commons  "  ;  and  by  1341  the  final  decision  ot 
Parliament  into  two  Houses  was  complete.  It  is  difficult  to  over-esti- 
mate the  importance  of  this  change.  Had  Parliament  remained  broken 
up  into  its  four  orders  of  clergy,  barons,  knights,  and  citizens,  its  |  ower 
would  have  been  neutralized  at  every  great  crisis  by  the  jealousies  and 
difficulty  of  co-operation  among  its  component  parts.  A  permanent 
union  of  the  knighthood  and  the  baronage,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
have  converted  Parliament  into  a  mere  representative  of  an  aristo- 
cratic caste,  and  would  have  robbed  it  of  the  strength  which  it  has 
drawn  from  its  connexion  with  the  great  body  of  the  commercial 
classes.  The  new  attitude  of  the  knighthood,  their  social  connexion 
as  landed  gentry  with  the  baronage,  their  political  union  with  the 
burgesses,  really  welded  the  three  orders  into  one,  and  gave  that  unity 
of  feeling  and  action  to  our  Parliament  on  which  its  power  has  ever 
since  mainly  depended.  From  the  moment  of  this  change,  indeed,  we 
see  a  marked  increase  of  parliamentary  activity.  The  need  of  con- 
tinual grants  during  the  war  brought  about  an  assembly  of  Parliament 
year  by  year  ;  and  with  each  supply  some  step  was  made  to  greater 
political  influence  A  crowd  of  enactments  for  the  regulation  of  trade, 
whether  wise  or  unwise,  and  for  the  protection  of  the  subject  against 
oppression  or  injustice,  as  well  as  the  great  ecclesiastical  provisions  of 
this  reign,  show  the  rapid  widening  of  the  sphere  of  parliamentary 
action.  The  Houses  claimed  an  exclusive  right  to  grant  supplies, 
and  asserted  the  principle  of  ministerial  responsibility  to  Parlia- 
ment. But  the  Commons  long  shrank  from  meddling  with  purely 
administrative  matters.  Edward  in  his  anxiety  to  shift  from  his 
shoulders  the  responsibility  of  the  war  with  France,  referred  to 
them  for  counsel  on  the  subject  of  one  of  the  numerous  propositions  of 
peace.  "  Most  dreaded  lord,"  they  replied,  "  as  to  your  war  and  the 
equipment  necessary  for  it,  we  are  so  ignorant  and  simple  that  we 
know  not  how,  nor  have  the  power,  to  devise  :  wherefore  we  pray  your 
Grace  to  excuse  us  in  this  matter,  and  that  it  please  you,  with  advice 
of  the  great  and  wise  persons  of  your  Council,  to  ordain  what  seems 
best  to  you  for  the  honour  and  profit  of  yourself  and  of  your  king- 
dom ;  and  whatsoever  shall  be  thus  ordained  by  assent  and  agree- 
ment on  the  part  of  you  and  your  lords  we  readily  assent  to,  and 
will  hold  it  firmly  established."     But  while  shrinking  from  so  wide  an 


V.} 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


233 


extension  of  their  responsibility,  the  Commons  wrested  from  the  Crown 
a  practical  reform  of  the  highest  value.  As  yet  their  petitions,  if  granted, 
were  often  changed  or  left  incomplete  in  the  statute  or  ordinance  which 
professed  to  embody  them,  or  were  delayed  till  the  session  had  closed. 
Thus  many  provisions  made  in  Parliament  had  hitherto  been  evaded  or 
set  aside.  But  the  Commons  now  met  this  abuse  by  a  demand  that  on  the 
royal  assent  being  given  their  petitions  should  be  turned  without  change 
into  statutes  of  the  realm,  and  derive  force  of  law  from  their  entry  on 
the  rolls  of  Parliament. 

The  political  responsibility  which  the  Commons  evaded  was  at  last 
forced  on  them  by  the  misfortunes  of  the  war.  In  spite  of  quarrels  in 
Brittany  and  elsewhere,  peace  was  fairly  preserved  in  the  nine  years 
which  follow^d  the  treaty  of  Brdtigny  ;  but  the  shrewd  eye  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  the  successor  of  John,  was  watching  keenly  for  the  moment 
of  renewing  the  struggle.  He  had  cleared  his  kingdom  of  the  freebooters 
by  despatching  them  into  Spain,  and  the  Black  Prince  had  plunged 
into  the  revolutions  of  that  country  only  to  return  from  his  fruitless 
victory  of  Navarete  in  broken  health,  and  impoverished  by  the  ex- 
penses of  the  campaign.  The  anger  caused  by  the  taxation  which  this 
necessitated  was  fanned  by  Charles  into  revolt.  He  listened,  in  spite 
of  the  treaty,  to  an  appeal  from  the  lords  of  Aquitaine,  and  summoned 
the  Black  Prince  to  his  Court.  "  I  will  come,"  replied  the  Prince, 
'*  but  helmet  on  head,  and  with  sixty  thousand  men  at  my  back."  War, 
however,  had  hardly  been  declared  before  the  ability  with  which  Charles 
had  laid  his  plans  was  seen  in  his  seizure  of  Ponthieu,  and  in  a  rising 
of  the  whole  country  south  of  the  Garonne.  The  Black  Prince,  borne 
on  a  litter  to  the  walls  of  Limoges,  recovered  the  town,  which  had  been 
surrendered  to  the  French,  and  by  a  merciless  massacre  sullied  the 
fame  of  his  earlier  exploits  ;  but  sickness  recalled  him  home,  and  the 
war,  protracted  by  the  caution  of  Charles,  who  forb  ide  his  ar  nies  to 
engage,  did  little  but  exhaust  the  energy  and  treasures  of  England.  At 
last,  however,  the  error  of  the  Prince's  policy  was  seen  in  the  appe.ir- 
ance  of  a  Spanish  fleet  in  the  Channel,  and  in  a  decisive  victory  which 
it  won  over  an  English  convoy  off  Rochelle.  The  blow  was  in  fact 
fatal  to  the  English  cause  ;  it  wrested  from  Edward  the  mastery  of  the 
seas,  and  cut  off  his.  communication  with  Aquitaine.  Charles  was 
roused  to  new  exertions.  Poitou,  Saintonge,  and  the  Angoumois 
yielded  to  his  general  Du  Guesclin,  and  Rochelle  was  surrendered  by  its 
citizens.  A  great  army  under  the  King's  third  son,  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke 
of  Lancaster,  penetrated  fruitlessly  into  the  heart  of  France.  Charles 
had  forbidden  any  fighting.  "  If  a  storm  rages  over  the  land,"  said 
the  King,  coolly,  "  it  disperses  of  itself ;  and  so  will  it  be  with  the 
English."  Winter,  in  fact,  overtook  the  Duke  in  the  mountams  of 
Auvergne,  and  a  mere  fragment  of  his  host  reached  Bordeaux.  The 
failure  was  the  signal  for  a  general  defection,  and  ere  the  summer  of 


Sec.  II. 

The  Good 
Parlia- 
ment 

1360 

TO 

1377 


The  Loss 
of  Aqui- 
taine 

I 360- I 396 

1366 
1367 


[369 


1372 


234 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Sec.  II. 

The  Good 

Parlia 

ment 

1360 

TO 

1377 


[371 


The  Good 
Farliainen} 


1374  had  closed  the  two  towns  of  Bordeaux  and  Bayonne  were  all  that 
remained  of  the  English  possessions  in  southern  France. 

It  was  a  time  of  shame  and  suffering  such  as  England  had  never 
known.  Her  conquests  were  lost,  her  shores  insulted,  her  fleets  anni- 
hilated, her  commerce  swept  from  the  seas  ;  while  within  she  was 
exhausted  by  the  long  and  costly  war,  as  well  as  by  the  ravages  of 
pestilence.  In  the  hour  of  distress  the  eyes  of  the  hard-pressed  nobles 
and  knighthood  turned  greedily  on  the  riches  of  the  Church.  Never 
hid  her  spiritual  or  moral  hold  on  the  nation  been  less  ;  never  had  her 
wealth  been  greater.  Out  of  a  population  of  some  three  millions,  the 
ecclesiastics  numbered  between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand.  Wild 
tales  of  their  riches  floated  about.  They  were  said  to  own  in  landed 
property  alone  more  than  a  third  of  the  soil,  their  "  spiritualities  "  in 
dues  and  offerings  amounting  to  twice  the  King's  revenue.  The  throng 
of  bishops  round  the  council-board  was  still  more  galling  to  the  feudal 
baronage,  flushed  as  it  was  with  a  new  pride  by  the  victories  of  Cr^cy 
and  Poitiers.  On  the  renewal  of  the  war  the  Parliament  prayed  that 
the  chief  offices  of  state  might  be  placed  in  lay  hands.  William  of 
Wykeham,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  resigned  the  Chancellorship,  another 
prelate  the  Treasury,  to  lay  dependents  of  the  great  nobles  ;  and  the 
panic  of  the  clergy  was  seen  in  large  grants  which  they  voted  in 
Convocation.  The  baronage  found  a  leader  in  John  of  Gaunt ;  but 
even  the  promise  to  pillage  the  Church  failed  to  win  for  the  Duke 
and  his  party  the  goodwill  of  the  lesser  gentry  and  of  the  burgesses  ; 
while  the  corruption  and  the  utter  failure  of  the  new  admiijistration 
and  the  calamities  of  the  war  left  it  powerless  before  the  Parliament  of 
1376.  The  action  of  this  Parliament  marks  a  new  stage  in  the  cha- 
racter of  the  national  opposition  to  the  misrule  of  the  Crown.  Till 
now  the  task  of  resistance  had  devolved  on  the  baronage,  and  had  been 
carried  out  through  risings  of  its  feudal  tenantry  ;  but  the  misgovern- 
ment  was  now  that  of  a  main  part  of  the  baronage  itself  in  actual  con- 
junction with  the  Crown.  Only  in  the  power  of  the  Commons  lay  any 
adequate  means  of  peaceful  redress.  The  old  reluctance  of  the  Lower 
House  to  meddle  with  matters  of  State  was  roughly  swept  away  there- 
fore by  the  pressure  of  the  time.  The  Black  Prince,  sick  as  he  was  to 
death  and  anxious  to  secure  his  child's  succession  by  the  removal  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  the  prelates  with  William  of  Wykehan\  at  their  head, 
resolute  again  to  take  their  place  in  the  royal  councils  and  to  check 
the  projects  of  ecclesiastical  spoliation,  alike  found  in  it  a  body  to  oppose 
to  the  Duke's  administration.  Backed  by  powers  such  as  these,  the 
action  of  the  Commons  showed  none  of  their  old  timidity  or  self- 
distrust.  The  knights  of  the  shire  united  with  the  burgesses  in 
a  joint  attack  on  the  royal  council.  "  Trusting  in  God,  and  standing 
with  his  followers  before  the  nobles,  whereof  the  chief  was  John,  Duke 
of  Lancaster,  whose  doings  were  ever  contrary,"  their  speaker,  Sir 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  VEARS^  WAR. 


235 


Peter  de  la  Mare,  denounced  the  mismanagement  of  the  war,  the  op- 
pressive taxation,  and  demanded  an  account  of  the  expenditure. 
"What  do  these  base  and  ignoble  knights  attempt?"  cried  John  of 
Gaunt.  "  Do  they  think  they  be  kings  or  princes  of  the  land  ?  "  But 
even  the  Uuke  was  silenced  by  the  charges  brought  against  the 
government,  and  the  Parliament  proceeded  to  the  impeachment  and 
condemnation  of  two  ministers,  Latimer  and  Lyons.  The  King  him- 
self had  sunk  into  dotage,  and  was  wholly  under  the  influence  of  a 
mistress  named  Alice  Perrers  ;  she  was  banished,  and  several  of  the 
royal  servants  driven  from  the  Court.  One  hundred  and  forty  petitions 
were  presented  which  embodied  the  grievances  of  the  realm.  They 
demanded  the  annual  assembly  of  Parliament,  and  freedom  of  election 
for  the  knights  of  the  shire,  whose  choice  was  now  often  tampered  with 
by  the  Crown  ;  they  protested  against  arbitrary  taxation  and  Papal  in- 
roads on  the  liberties  of  the  Church ;  petitioned  for  the  protection  of 
trade,  the  enforcem.ent  of  the  statute  of  labourers,  and  the  limitation  of 
the  powers  of  chartered  crafts.  At  the  death  of  the  Black  Prince  his 
little  son  Richard  was  brought  into  Parliament  and  acknowledged  as 
heir.  But  the  Houses  were  no  sooner  dismissed  than  Lancaster  re- 
sumed his  power.  His  haughty  will  flung  aside  all  restraints  of  law. 
He  dismissed  the  new  lords  and  prelates  from  the  Council.  He  called 
back  Ahce  Perrers  and  the  disgraced  ministers.  He  declared  the  Good 
Parliament  no  parliament,  and  did  not  suffer  its  petitions  to  be  enrolled 
as  statutes.  He  imprisoned  Peter  de  la  Mare,  and  confiscated  the  pos- 
sessions of  William  of  Wykeham.  His  attack  on  this  prelate  was  an 
attack  on  the  clergy  at  large.  Fresh  projects  of  spoliation  were  openly 
canvassed,  and  it  is  his  support  of  these  plans  of  confiscation  which  now 
brings  us  across  the  path  of  John  Wyclif. 


Section  III.— J olm-Wyclif.  - 

[Authorities. — The  "Fasciculi  Zizaniorum  "  in  the  Rolls  Series,  with  the 
"iocuments  appended  to  it,  is  a  work  of  primary  authority  for  the  history  of 
Wyclii  and  his  followers.  A  selection  fr  m  his  English  tract-;  has  been  made 
by  Mr.  T.  Arnold  for  the  University  of  Oxford,  which  has  also  published  his 
"Trias."  The  version  of  the  Bible  that  bears  his  name  has  been  edited  with 
a  valuable  preface  by  Rev.  J.  Forshall  and  Sir  F.  Madden.  There  are  lives  of 
Wyclif  by  Lewis  and  Vaughan  ;  and  Milman  ("  Latin  Christianity,"  vol.  vi.) 
has  given  a  brilliant  summary  of  the  Lollard  movement.] 

Nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  the  contrast  between  the  obscurity 
of  Wyclif's  earlier  life  and  the  fulness  and  vividness  of  our  knowledge 
ot  him  during  the  twenty  years  which  preceded  its  close.  Born  in  the 
earlier  part  of  the  fourteenth  century,  he  had  already  passed  middle 
age  when  he  was  appointed  to  the  mastership  of  Balliol  College  in  the 
University  of  Oxford,  and  recognized  as  first  among  the  schoolmen  of 


236 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP 


his  day.  Of  all  ilie  sch  >lastic  doctors  those  of  England  had  been 
throughout  the  keenest  and  the  most  daring  in  philosophical  specula 
tion  ;  a  reckless  audacity  and  love  of  novelty  was  the  common  note.cl 
Bacon,  Duns  Scotus,  and  Ockham,  as  against  the  sober  and  more 
disciplined  learning  of  the  Parisian  schoolmen,  Albert  and  Aquinas. 
But  the  decay  of  the  University  of  Paris  during  the  English  wars  was 
transferring  her  intellectual  supremacy  to  Oxford,  and  in  Oxford 
Wyclif  stood  without  a  rival.  From  his  predecessor,  Bradwardine, 
whose  work  as  a  schol  istic  teacher  he  carried  on  in  the  speculative 
treatises  he  published  during  this  period,  he  inherited  the  tendency  to 
a  predestinarian  /\ugustinianism  which  formed  the  groundwork  of  his 
later  theological  revolt.  His  debt  to  Ockham  revealed  itself  in  his 
earliest  efforts  at  Church  reform.  Undismayed  by  the  thunder  and 
excommunications  of  the  Church,  Ockham  had  not  shrunk  in  his  en- 
thusiasm for  the  Empire  from  attacking  the  foundations  of  the  Papal 
supremacy  or  from  asserting  the  rights  of  the  civil  power.  The  spare, 
emaciated  frame  of  Wyclif,  weakened  by  study  and  by  asceticism, 
hardly  promised  a  Reformer  who  would  carry  on  the  stormy  work  of 
Ockham  ;  but  within  this  frail  form  lay  a  temper  quick  and  restless, 
an  immense  energy,  an  immovable  conviction,  an  unconquerable  pride. 
The  personal  charm  which  ever  accompanies  real  greatness  only  deep- 
ened the  influence  he  derived  from  the  spotless  purity  of  his  life.  As 
yet  indeed  even  Wyclif  himself  can  hardly  have  suspected  the  immense 
range  of  his  intellectual  power.  It  was  only  the  struggle  that  lay 
before  him  which  revealed  in  the  dry  and  subtle  schoolman  the  founder 
of  our  later  English  prose,  a  master  of  popular  invective,  of  irony,  of 
persuasion,  a  dexterous  politician,  an  audacious  partisan,  the  organizer 
of  a  religious  order,  the  unsparing  assailant  of  abuses,  the  boldest  and 
most  indefatigable  of  controversialists,  the  first  Reformer  who  dared, 
when  deserted  and  alone,  to  question  and  deny  the  creeJ  of  the  Chris- 
tendom around  him,  to  break  through  the  tradition  of  the  past,  and 
wiih  his  last  breath  to  assert  the  freedom  of  religious  thought  against 
the  dogmas  of  the  Papacy. 

The  attack  of  Wyclif  began  precisely  at  the  moment  when  tne 
Church  of  the  middle  ages  had  sunk  to  its  lowest  point  of  spiritual 
decay.  The  transfer  of  the  Papacy  to  Avignon  robbed  it  of  half  the 
awe  in  which  it  had  been  held  by  Englishmen,  for  not  only  had  the 
Penes  sunk  into  creatures  of  the  French  King,  but  their  greed  and 
extortion  produced  almost  universal  revolt.  The  claim  of  first  fruits, 
and  annates  from  rectory  and  bishoprick,  the  assumption  of  a  right  to 
dispose  of  all  benefices  in  ecclesiastical  patronage,  the  direct  taxation 
of  the  clergy,  the  intrusion  of  foreign  priests  into  English  livings,  the 
opening  a  mart  for  the  disposal  of  pardons,  dispensations,  and  in- 
dulgences, and  the  encouragement  of  appeals  to  the  Papal  court 
produced  a  widespread  national  irritation  which  never  slept  till  the 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


2J7 


Reformation.  The  people  scorned  a  "  French  Pope,"  and  threatened 
his  legates  with  rtoning  when  they  landed.  The  wit  of  Chaucer 
flouted  the  wallet  of"  p  irdons  hot  from  Rome."  Parliament  vindicated 
the  right  of  the  State  to  prohibit  any  questioning  of  judgements  ren- 
dered in  the  King's  courts,  or  any  prosecution  of  a  suit  in  foreign  courts, 
by  the  Statute  of  Praemunire  ;  and  denied  the  Papal  claim  to  dispose 
of  benefices  by  that  of  Provisors.  But  the  effort  was  practically 
foiled  by  the  treacherous  diplomacy  of  the  Crown.  The  Pope  waived 
indeed  his  alleged  right  to  appoint  foreigners  ;  but  by  a  compromise, 
in  which  Pope  and  King  combined  for  the  enslaving  of  the  Church, 
bishopricka,  abbacies,  and  livings  in  the  gift  of  Churchmen  still  con- 
tinued to  receive  Papal  nominees  who  had  been  first  chosen  by  the 
Crown,  so  that  the  treasuries  of  King  and  Pope  profited  by  the  arrange- 
ment. The  protest  of  the  Good  Parliament  is  a  record  of  the  ill-success 
of  its  predecessors'  attempts.  It  asserted  that  the  taxes  levied  by  the 
Pope  amounted  to  five  times  the  amount  of  those  levied  by  the  King, 
that  by  reservation  during  the  life  of  actual  holders  the  Pope  disposed 
of  the  same  bishoprick  four  or  five  times  over,  receiving  each  time  the 
first  fruits.  "  The  brokers  of  the  sinful  city  of  Rome  promote  for  money 
unlearned  and  unworthy  caitiffs  to  benefices  of  the  value  of  a  thousand 
marks,  while  the  poor  and  learned  hardly  obtain  one  of  twenty.  So 
decays  sound  learning.  They  present  aliens  who  neither  see  nor 
care  to  see  their  parishioners,  despise  God's  services,  convey  away  the 
treasure  of  the  realm,  and  are  worse  than  Jews  or  Saracens  The  Pope's 
revenue  from  England  alone  is  larger  than  that  of  any  prince  in  Chris- 
tendom. God  gave  his  sheep  to  be  pastured,  not  to  be  shaven  and 
shorn."  The  grievances  were  no  trifling  ones.  At  this  very  time  the 
dt-aneries  of  Lichfield,  S  ilisbury  and  York,  the  archdeaconry  of  Can- 
terbury, which  was  reputed  the  wealthiest  Enghsh  benefice,  together 
with  a  host  of  prebends  and  preferments,  were  held  by  Italian  cardinals 
and  priests,  while  the  Pope's  collector  from  his  office  in  London  sent 
twenty  thousand  marks  a  year  to  the  Papal  treasury. 

If  extortion  and  tyranny  such  as  this  severed  the  English  clergy  from 
the  Papacy,  their  own  selfishness  severed  them  from  the  nation  at 
large.  Immense  as  was  their  wealth,  they  bore  as  little  as  they  could 
of  the  common  burthens  of  the  realm  They  were  still  resolute  to 
assert  their  exemption  from  the  common  justice  of  the  land,  and  the 
mild  punishments  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts  carried  little  dismay  into 
the  mass  of  disorderly  clerks.  Privileged  as  they  were  against  all  in- 
terference from  the  lay  world  without,  the  clergy  penetrated  by  their 
control  over  wills,  contracts,  divorce,  by  the  dues  they  exacted,  as  well 
as  by  directly  rehgious  offices,  into  the  very  heart  of  the  social  life 
around  them.  No  figure  was  better  known  or  more  hated  than  the 
summoner  who  enforced  the  jurisdiction  and  levied  the  dues  of  their 
courts.     On  the  other  hand,  their  moral  authority  was  rapidly  passing 


238 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


away  ;  the  wealthiest  churchmen,  with  curled  hair  and  hanging  sleeves, 
aped  the  costume  of  the  knightly  society  to  which  they  re.iily  belonged. 
We  have  already  seen  the  general  impression  of  their  worldliness  in 
Chaucer's  picture  of  the  hunting  monk  and  the  courtly  prioress  with 
her  love-motto  on  her  brooch.  Over  the  vice  of  the  higher  classes 
they  exerted  no  influence  whatever  ;  the  King  paraded  his  mistress  as 
a  Queen  of  Beauty  through  London,  the  nobles  blazoned  their  infamy 
in  court  and  tournament.  "  In  those  days,"  says  a  chronicler  of  the 
time,  "arose  a  great  rumour  and  clamour  airjong  the  people,  that 
wherever  there  was  a  tournament  there  came  a  great  concourse  of 
ladies  of  the  most  costly  and  beautiful,  but  not  of  the  best  in  the 
kingdom,  sometimes  forty  or  fifty  in  number,  as  if  they  were  a  part  of 
the  tournament,  in  diverse  and  wonderful  male  apparel,  in  parti- 
coloured tunics,  with  short  caps  and  bands  wound  cord-wise  round 
their  head,  and  girdles  bound  with  gold  and  silver,  and  daggers  in 
pouches  across  their  body,  and  then  they  proceeded  on  chosen  coursers 
to  the  place  of  tourney,  and  so  expended  and  wasted  their  goods  and 
vexed  their  bodies  with  scurrilous  wantonness  that  the  ru  nour  of  the 
people  sounded  everywhere  ;  and  thus  they  neither  feared  God  nor 
blushed  at  the  chaste  voice  of  the  people."  They  were  not  called  on 
to  blush  at  the  chaste  voice  of  the  Church.  The  clergy  were  in  fact 
rent  by  their  own  dissensions.  The  higher  prelates  were  busy  with 
the  cares  of  political  office,  and  severed  from  the  lower  priesthood  by 
the  scandalous  inequality  between  the  revenues  of  the  wealthier  eccle- 
siastics and  the  "poor  parson"  of  the  country.  A  bitter  hatred 
divided  the  secular  clergy  from  the  regular;  and  this  strife  wen 
fiercely  on  in  the  Universities.  Fitz-Ralf,  the  Chancellor  of  Oxford, 
attribute:!  to  the  Friars  the  decline  in  the  number  of  academical 
students,  and  the  University  checked  by  statute  their  admission  of 
mere  children  into  their  orders.  The  older  religious  orders  in  fact  had 
sunk  into  mere  landowners,  while  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Friars  had  in 
great  part  died  away  and  left  a  crowd  of  impudent  mendicants  behind 
it.  Wyclif  could  soon  with  general  appWuse  denounce  them  as  sturdy 
beggars,  aid  declare  that  "  the  man  who  gives  alms  to  a  begging  friar 
is  ipso  facto  excommunicate." 

Without  the  ranks  of  the  clergy  stood  a  world  of  earnest 
men  who,  like  "  Piers  the  Ploughman,"  denounced  their  worldliness 
and  vice,  sceptics  like  Chaucer  laughing  at  the  jingling  bells  of  their" 
hunting  abbots,  and  the  brutal  and  greedy  baronage  under  John  o! 
Gaunt,  eager  to  drive  the  prelates  from  office  and  to  seize  on  their 
wealth.  Worthless  as  the  last  party  seems  to  us,  it  was  with  John  of 
Gaunt  that  Wyclif  allied  himself  in  his  effort  for  the  reform  of  the 
Church.  As  yet  his  quarrel  was  not  with  the  doctrines  of  Rome  but 
with  its  practice,  and  it  was  on  the  principles  of  Ockham  that  he  de- 
fended the  Parliament's  indignant  refusal  of  the  "  tribute  "  which  was 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


239 


claimed  by  the  Papacy.  But  his  treatise  on  "  The  Kingdom  of  God" 
(De  Dominio  Divino)  shows  how  different  his  aims  really  were  from  the 
selfish  aims  of  the  men  with  whom  he  acted.  In  this,  the  most  famous 
of  his  works,  Wyclif  bases  his  action  on  a  distinct  ideal  of  society.  All 
authority,  to  use  his  own  expression,  is  "founded  in  grace."  Dominion 
in  the  highest  sense  is  in  God  alone  ;  it  is  God  who,  as  the  suzerain 
of  the  universe,  deals  out  His  rule  in  fief  to  rulers  in  their  various 
stations  on  tenure  of  their  obedience  to  Himself.  Tt  was  easy  to  object 
that  in  such  a  case  "  dominion  "could  never  exist,  since  mortal  sin  is  a 
breach  of  such  a  tenure,  and  all  men  sin.  But,  as  Wyclif  urged  it,  the 
theory  is  a  purely  ideal  one.  In  actual  practice  he  distinguishes  be- 
tween dominion  and  power,  power  which  the  wicked  may  have  by 
God's  permission, and  to  which  the  Christian  must  submit  from  motives 
of  obedience  to  God.  In  his  own  scholastic  phrase,  so  strangely  per- 
verted afterwards,  here  on  earth  "  God  must  obey  the  devil."  But 
whether  in  the  ideal  or  practical  view  of  the  matter,  all  power  or 
dominion  was  of  God.  It  was  granted  by  Him  not  to  one  person.  His 
Vicar  on  earth,  as  the  Papacy  alleged,  but  to  all.  The  King  was  as 
truly  God's  Vicar  as  the  Pope.  The  royal  power  was  as  sacred  as  the 
ecclesiastical,  and  as  complete  over  temporal  things,  even  the  tem- 
poralities of  the  Church,  as  that  of  the  Church  over  spiritual  things. 
On  the  question  of  Church  and  State  therefore  the  distinction  between 
the  ideal  and  practical  view  of  "  dominion "  was  of  little  account. 
Wyclif  s  application  of  the  theory  to  the  individual  conscience  was  of 
far  higher  and  wider  importance.  Obedient  as  each  Christian  might  be 
to  king  or  priest,  he  himself,  as  a  possessor  of  "  dominion,"  held  im- 
mediately of  God.  The  throne  of  God  Himself  was  the  tribunal  of 
personal  appeal.  What  the  Reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century  at- 
tempted to  do  by  their  theory  of  Justification  by  Faith,  W^yclif 
attempted  to  do  by  his  theory  of"  dominion."  It  was  a  theory  which 
in  establishing  a  direct  relation  between  man  and  God  swepc  away 
the  whole  basis  of  a  mediating  priesthood  on  which  the  mediaeval 
Church  was  built  ;  but  for  a  time  its  real  drift  was  hardly  perceived. 
To  Wyclif  s  theory  of  Church  and  State,  his  subjection  of  their  tem- 
poralities to  the  Crown,  his  contention  that  like  other  property  they 
might  be  seized  and  employed  for  national  purposes,  his  wish  for  their 
voluntary  abandonment  and  the  return  of  the  Church  to  its  original 
poverty,  the  clergy  were  more  sensitive.  They  were  bitterly  galled 
when  he  came  forward  as  the  theological  bulwark  of  the  Lancastrian 
party  at  a  time  when  they  were  writhing  under  the  attack  on  Wykeham 
by  the  nobles ;  and  in  the  prosecution  of  Wyclif,  they  resolved  to  return 
blow  for  blow.  He  was  summoned  before  Bishop  Courtenay  of 
London  to  answer  for  his  heretical  propositions  concerning  the  wealth 
of  the  Church.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster  accepted  the  challenge  as 
really  given  to  him  elf,  and  stood  by  Wyclif s  side  in  the  Consistory 


240 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Court  at  St.  Paul's.  But  no  trial  took  place.  Fierce  words  passed 
between  the  nobles  and  the  prelate  ;  the  Duke  himself  was  said  to  have 
threatened  to  drag  Courtenay  out  of  the  church  by  the  hair  of  bis  head, 
and  at  last  the  London  populace,  to  whom  John  of  Gaunt  was  hateful, 
burst  in  to  their  Bishop's  rescue,  and  Wyclif  s  life  was  saved  with  diffi- 
culty by  the  aid  of  the  soldiery.  But  his  courage  only  grew  with  the 
danger.  A  Papal  bull  which  was  procured  by  the  bishops,  directing 
the  University  to  condemn  and  arrest  him,  extorted  from  him  a  bold 
defiance.  In  a  defence  circulated  widely  through  the  kingdom  and 
laid  before  Parliament,  Wyclif  broadly  asserted  that  no  man  could  be 
excommunicated  by  the  Pope  "  unless  he  were  first  excommunicated 
by  himself."  He  denied  the  right  of  the  Church  to  exact  or  defend 
temporal  privileges  by  spiritual  censures,  declared  that  a  Church  might 
justly  be  deprived  by  the  King  or  lay  lords  of  its  property  for  defect  of 
duty,  and  defended  the  subjection  of  ecclesiastics  to  civil  tribunals. 
Bold  as  the  defiance  was,  it  won  the  support  of  the  people  and  of  the 
Crown.  When  he  appeared  at  the  close  of  the  year  in  Lambeth 
Chapel  to  answer  the  Archbishop's  summons,  a  message  from  the  Court 
forbade  the  Primate  to  proceed,  and  the  Londoners  broke  in  and 
dissolved  the  session. 

Wyclif  was  still  working  hand  in  hand  with  John  of  Gaunt  in  advo- 
cating his  plans  of  ecclesiastical  reform,  when  the  great  insurrection  of 
the  peasants,  which  we  shall  soon  have  to  describe,  broke  out  under 
Wat  Tyler,  In  a  few  months  the  whole  of  his  work  was  undone.  Not 
only  was  the  power  of  the  Lancastrian  party  on  which  Wyclif  had 
relied  for  the  moment  annihilated,  but  the  quarrel  between  the  baronage 
and  the  Church,  on  which  his  action  had  hitherto  been  grounded,  was 
hushed  in  the  presence  of  a  common  danger.  His  "  poor  preachers  " 
were  looked  on  as  missionaries  of  socialism.  The  Friars  charged  him 
with  being  a  "  sower  of  strife,  who  by  his  serpent-like  instigation  has 
set  the  serf  against  his  lord,"  and  though  Wyclif  tossed  back  the  charge 
with  disdain,  he  had  to  bear  a  suspicion  which  was  justified  by  the 
conduct  of  some  of  his  followers.  John  Ball,  who  had  figured  in  the 
front  rank  of  the  revolt,  was  claimed  as  one  of  his  adherents,  and  was 
alleged  to  have  denounced  in  his  last  hour  the  conspiracy  of  the 
"Wyclifites."  His  most  prominent  scholar,  Nicholas  Herford,  was 
said  to  have  openly  approved  the  brutal  murder  of  Archbishop  Sud 
bury.  Whatever  belief  such  charges  might  gain,  it  is  certain  that  from 
this  moment  all  plans  for  the  reorganization  of  the  Church  were  con- 
founded in  the  general  odium  which  attached  to  the  projects  of  the 
peasant  leaders,  and  that  any  hope  of  ecclesiastical  reform  at  the  hands 
of  the  baronage  and  the  Parliament  was  at  an  end.  B«t  even  if  the 
Peasant  Revolt  had  not  deprived  Wyclif  of  the  support  of  the  aristo- 
cratic party  with  whom  he  had  hitherto  co-operated,  their  alliance 
must  have  been  dissolved  by  the  new  theological  position  which  he  had 


v.] 


THE   HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


241 


already  taken  up.  Some  months  before  the  outbreak  of  the  insurrec- 
tion, he  had  by  one  memorable  step  passed  from  the  position  of  a 
reformer  of  the  discipline  and  political  relations  of  the  Church  to  that 
of  a  protester  against  its  cardinal  beliefs.  If  there  was  one  doctrine 
upon  which  the  supremacy  of  the  Mediaeval  Church  rested,  it  was  the 
doctrine  of  Transubstantiation.  It  was  by  his  exclusive  right  to  the 
performance  of  the  miracle  which  was  wrought  in  the  mass  that 
th"  lowliest  priest  was  raised  high  above  princes.  With  the  formal 
de.iial  of  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation  which  Wyclif  issued 
in  the  spring  of  1381  began  that  great  movement  of  revolt  which 
ended,  more  than  a  century  after,  in  the  establishment  of  religious 
freedom,  by  severing  the  mass  of  the  Teutonic  peoples  from  the  general 
body  of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  act  was  the  bolder  that  he  stood 
utterly  alone.  The  University,  in  which  his  influence  had  been  hitherto 
a'J-powerfui,  at  once  condemned  him.  John  of  Gaunt  enjoined  him  to 
b:  silent.  Wyclif  was  presiding  as  Doctor  of  Divinity  over  some 
disputations  in  the  schools  of  the  Augustinian  Canons  when  his 
academical  condemnation  was  publicly  read,  but  though  startled  for 
the  moment  he  at  once  challenged  Chancellor  or  doctor  to  disprove  the 
conclusions  at  which  he  had  arrived.  The  prohibition  of  the  Duke 
of  Lancaster  he  met  by  an  open  avowal  of  his  teaching,  a  confession 
which  closes  proudly  with  the  quiet  words,  "  I  believe  that  in  the  end 
the  truth  will  conquer."  For  the  moment  his  courage  dispelled  the 
panic  around  him.  The  University  responded  to  his  appeal,  and  by 
displacing  his  opponents  from  office  tacitly  adopted  his  cause.  But 
Wyclif  no  longer  looked  for  support  to  the  learned  or  wealthier  classes 
on  whom  he  had  hitherto  relied.  He  appealed,  and  the  appeal  is 
memorable  as  the  first  of  such  a  kind  in  our  history,  to  England  at 
large.  With  an  amazing  industry  he  issued  tract  after  tract  in  the 
tongue  of  the  people  itself.  The  dry,  syllogistic  Latin,  the  abstruse 
and  inv;)lved  argument  which  the  great  doctor  had  addressed  to  his 
academic  hearers,  were  suddenly  flung  aside,  and  by  a  transition 
which  marks  the  wonderful  genius  of  the  man  the  schoolman  was 
transformed  into  the  pamphleteer.  If  Chaucer  is  the  father  of  our  later 
English  poetry,  Wyclif  is  the  father  of  our  later  English  prose.  The 
rough,  clear,  homely  English  of  his  tracts,  the  speech  of  the  plough- 
man and  the  trader  of  the  day,  though  coloured  with  the  picturesque 
phraseology  of  the  Bible,  is  in  its  literary  use  as  distinctly  a  creation 
of  his  own  as  the  style  in  which  he  embodied  it,  the  terse  vehement 
sentences,  the  stingmg  sarcasms,  the  hard  antithc.ies  which  roused  the 
dullest  mind  like  a  whip.  Once  fairly  freed  from  the  trammels  of  un- 
questioning belief,  Wyclif's  mind  worked  fast  in  its  career  of  scepticism. 
Pardons,  indulgences,  absolutions,  pilgrimages  to  the  shrines  of  the 
saints,  worship  of  their  images,  worship  of  the  saints  themselves,  were 
successively  denied.     A  formal  appeal  to  the  Bible  as  the  one  ground 


242 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


of  faith,  coupled  with  an  assertion  of  the  right  of  every  instructed  man 
to  examine  the  Bible  for  himself,  threatened  the.  very  groundwork  of 
the  older  dogmatism  with  ruin.  Nor  were  these  daring  denials  confined 
to  the  small  circle  of  the  scholars  who  still  clung  to  him  ;  with  the 
practical  ability  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  of  his  character,  Wyclif 
had  organized  some  few  years  before  an  order  of  poor  preachers,  "  the 
Simple  Priests,"  whose  coarse  sermons  and  long  russet  dress  moved 
the  laughter  of  the  clergy,  but  who  now  formed  a  priceless  organization 
for  the  diffusion  of  their  master's  doctrines.  How  rapid  their  progress 
must  have  been  we  may  see  from  the  panic-struck  exaggerations  of 
their  opponents.  A  few  years  later  they  complained  that  the  followers 
of  Wyclif  abounded  everywhere  and  in  all  classes,  among  the  baronage, 
in  the  cities,  among  the  peasantry  of  the  country-side,  even  in  the 
monastic  cell  itself     "  Every  second  man  one  meets  is  a  Lollard.** 

"  Lollard,"  a  word  which  probably  means  "  idle  babbler,"  was 
the  nickname  of  scorn  with  which  the  orthodox  Churchmen  chose 
I  to  insult  their  assailants.  But  this  rapid  increase  changed  their 
I  scorn  into  vigorous  action.  Courtenay,  now  become  Archbishop, 
summoned  a  council  at  Blackfriars,  and  formally  submitted  twenty-four 
propositions  drawn  from  Wyclifs  works.  An  earthquake  in  the  midst 
of  the  pro  eedings  terrified  every  prelate  but  the  resolute  Primate  ;  the 
expulsion  of  ill  humours  from  the  earth,  he  said,  was  of  good  omen  for 
the  expulsion  of  ill  humours  from  the  Church  ;  and  the  condemnation 
was  pronounced.  Then  the  Archbishop  turned  fiercely  upon  Oxford 
as  the  fount  and  centre  of  the  new  heresies.  In  an  English  sermon  at 
St.  Frideswide's,  Nicholas  Herford  had  asserted  the  truth  of  Wyclifs 
doctrines,  and  Courtenay  ordered  the  Chancellor  to  silence  him  and 
his  adherents  on  pain  of  being  himself  treated  as  a  heretic.  The 
Chancellor  fell  back  on  the  liberties  of  the  University,  and  app)ointed 
as  preacher  another  Wyclifite,  Repyngdon,  who  did  not  hesitate  to 
style  the  Lollards  "holy  priests,"  and  to  affirm  that  they  were 
protected  by  John  of  Gaunt  Party  spirit  meanwhile  ran  high  among 
the  students ;  the  bulk  of  them  sided  with  the  Lollard  leaders,  and 
a  Carmelite,  Peter  Stokes,  who  had  procured  the  Archbishops  letters, 
cowered  panic-stricken  in  his  chamber  while  the  Chancellor,  pro- 
tected by  an  escort  of  a  hundred  townsmen,  listened  approvingly 
to  Repyngdon's  defiance.  "  I  dare  go  no  further,"  wrote  the  poor 
Friar  to  the  Archbishop,  "  for  fear  of  death  ;  "  but  he  soon  mustered 
courage  to  descend  into  the  schools  where  Repyngdon  was  now 
maintaining  that  the  clerical  order  was  "better  when  it  was  but  nine 
years  old  than  now  that  it  has  grown  to  a  thousand  years  and  more." 
The  appearance,  however,  of  scholars  in  arms  again  drove  Stokes  to 
fly  in  despair  to  Lambeth,  while  u.  new  heretic  in  open  Congregation 
maintained  Wyclifs  denial  of  Transubstanliation.  "There  is  no 
idolatry,"  cried  William  James,  "save  in  *.he  Sacrament  of  the  Alur." 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


243 


"  You  speak  like  a  wise  man,"  replied  the  Chancellor,  Robert  Rygge. 
Courtenay  however  was  not  the  man  to  bear  defiance  tamely,  and  his 
summons  to  Lambeth  wrested  a  submission  from  Rygge  which  was 
only  accepted  on  his  pledge  to  suppress  the  LoUardism  of  the 
University.  "  I  dare  not  publish  them,  on  fear  of  death,"  exclaimed 
the  Chancellor  when  Courtenay  handed  him  his  letters  of  condemna- 
tion. "  Then  is  your  University  an  o\>Qvi/autor  of  heretics,"  retorted 
the  Primate,  "if  it  suffers  not  the  Catholic  truth  to  be  proclaimed 
within  its  bounds."  The  royal  council  supported  the  Archbishop's 
injunction,  but  the  publication  of  the  decrees  at  once  set  Oxford  on 
fire.  The  scholars  threatened  death  against  the  Friars,  "  crying  that 
they  wished  to  destroy  the  University."  The  masters  suspended 
Henry  Crump  from  teaching,  as  a  troubler  of  the  public  peace,  for 
calling  the  Lollards  "  heretics."  The  Crown  however  at  last  stepped 
roughly  in  to  Courtenay's  aid,  and  a  royal  writ  ordered  the  instant 
banishment  of  all  favourers  of  Wyclif,  with  the  seizure  and  destruction 
of  all  Lollard  books,  on  pain  of  forfeiture  of  the  University's  privileges. 
The  threat  produced  its  effect.  Herford  and  Repyngdon  appealed  in 
vain  to  John  of  Gaunt  for  protection  ;  the  Duke  himself  denounced 
them  as  heretics  against  the  Sacrament  of  the  Altar,  and  after  much 
evasion  they  were  forced  to  make  a  formal  submission.  Within 
Oxford  itself  the  suppression  of  LoUardism  was  complete,  but  with 
the  death  of  religious  freedom  all  trace  of  intellectual  life  suddenly 
disappears.  The  century  which  followed  the  triumphs  of  Courtenay 
is  the  most  barren  in  its  annals,  nor  was  the  sleep  of  the  University 
broken  till  the  advent  of  the  New  Learning  restored  to  it  some  of 
the  life  and  liberty  which  the  Primate  had  so  roughly  trodden  out. 

Nothing  marks  more  strongly  the  grandeur  of  W-'xlifs  position  as 
the  last  of  the  great  schoolmen,  than  the  reluctance  of  so  bold  a  man 
as  Courtenay  even  after  his  triumph  over  Oxford  to  take  extreme  mea- 
sures against  the  head  of  LoUardry.  Wyclif,  though  summoned,  had 
made  no  appearance  before  the  "  Council  of  the  Earthquake." 
'  Pontius  Pilate  and  Herod  are  made  friends  to-day,"  was  his  bitter 
comment  on  the  new  union  which  proved  to  have  sprung  up  between 
the  prelates  and  the  monastic  orders  who  had  so  long  been  at  variance 
with  eacn  other  ;  "  since  they  have  made  a  heretic  of  Christ,  it  is  an 
easy  inference  for  them  to  count  simple  Christians  heretics."  He 
seems  indeed  to  have  been  sick  at  the  moment,  but  the  announcement 
of  the  final  sentence  roused  him  to  life  again.  "  I  shall  not  die,'  he  is 
said  to  have  cried  at  an  earlier  time  when  in  grievous  peril, "  but  live  and 
declare  the  works  of  the  Friars."  He  petitioned  the  King  and  Parlia- 
ment th.it  he  might  be  allowed  freely  to  prove  the  doctrines  he  had  pnt 
forth,  and  turning  with  characteristic  energy  to  the  attack  of  his 
assailants,  he  asked  that  all  religious  vows  might  be  suppressed,  that 
tithes  might  be  diverted  to  the  maintenance  of  the  poor  and  the  clergy 
maintained  by   the  free   alms   of  their   flocks,   that  the  Statutes  of 


244 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Provisors  and  Praemunire  might  be  enforced  against  the  Papacy,  that 
churchmen  might  be  declared  incapable  of  secular  offices,  and  im- 
prisonment for  excommunication  cease.  Finally,  in  the  teeth  of  the 
council's  condemnation,  he  demanded  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Eucha- 
rist which  he  advocated  might  be  freely  taught.  If  he  appeared  in  the 
following  year  before  the  Convocation  at  Oxford,  it  was  to  perplex  his 
opponents  by  a  display  of  scholastic  logic  which  permitted  him  to 
retire  without  any  retractation  of  his  sacramental  heresy.  For  the  time 
his  opponents  seemed  satisfied  with  his  expulsion  from  the  University, 
but  in  his  retirement  at  Lutterworth  he  was  forging  during  these  troubled 
years  the  great  weapon  which,  wielded  by  other  hands  than  his  own,  was 
to  produce  so  terrible  an  effect  on  the  triumphant  hierarchy.  An  earlier 
translation  of  the  Scriptures,  in  part  of  which  he  was  aided  by  his  scholar 
Herford,  was  being  revised  and  brought  to  the  second  form,  which  is 
better  known  as  "  Wyclif  s  Bible,"  when  death  drew  near.  The  appeal 
of  the  prelates  to  Rome  was  answered  at  last  by  a  brief  ordering  him  to 
appear  at  the  Papal  Court.  His  failing  strength  exhausted  itself  in  the 
cold  sarcastic  reply  which  explained  that  his  refusal  to  comply  with  the 
summons  simply  sprang  from  broken  health.  "  I  am  always  glad,"  ran 
the  ironical  answer,  "  to  explain  my  faith  to  any  one,  and  above  all  to 
the  Bishop  of  Rome  ;  for  I  take  it  for  granted  that  if  it  be  orthodox  he 
will  confirm  it,  if  it  be  erroneous  he  will  correct  it.  I  assume,  too,  tha. 
as  chief  Vicar  of  Christ  upon  earth  the  Bishop  of  Rome  is  of  all  mortal 
men  most  bound  to  the  law  of  Christ's  Gospel,  for  among  the  disciples 
of  Christ  a  majority  is  not  reckoned  by  simply  counting  heads  in  the 
fashion  of  this  world,  but  according  to  the  imitation  of  Christ  on  either 
side.  Now  Christ  during  His  life  upon  earth  was  of  all  men  the 
poorest,  casting  from  Him  all  worldly  authority.  I  deduce  from 
these  premisses,  as  a  simple  counsel  of  my  own,  that  the  Pope 
should  surrender  all  temporal  authority  to  the  civil  power  and  advise 
his  clergy  to  do  the  same."  The  boldness  of  his  words  sprang 
perhaps  from  a  knowledge  that  his  end  was  near.  The  terrible  strain 
on  energies  enfeebled  by  age  and  study  had  at  last  brought  its  inevit- 
able result,  and  a  stroke  of  paralysis  while  Wyclif  was  hearing  mass  in 
his  parish  church  of  Lutterworth  was  followed  on  the  next  day  by  his 
death. 

gectlon  IV.— The  Peasant  Rerolt,  1377-1381. 

[Authorities.— Yor  the  condition  of  land  and  labour  at  this  time  see  the 
"  History  of  Prices,"  by  Professor  Thorold  Rogers,  the  "  Domesday  liook  of 
St.  Pauls"  (Camden  Society)  with  Archdeacon  Hale's  valuable  introduction, 
and  Mr.  Seebohm's  ♦'  Es  ayson  the  Black  Death  "  {Fortnightly  Rcvie^v,  1865). 
Among  the  chroniclers  Knyghton  and  Walsingham  are  the  fullest  and  m  s* 
valuable.    The  great  Labour  Statutes  will  he  f  )un(l  in  the  Parliamentary  Rolls.  1 

The  religious  revolution  which  we  have  been  describing  give  fresh 
impulse  to  a  revolution  of  even  greater  importance,  which  had  for  a 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


245 


long  time  been  changing  the  whole  f.ice  of  the  country.  The  manorial 
system,  on  which  the  social  organization  of  every  rural  part  of  Eng- 
land rested,  had  divided  the  land,  for  the  purposes  of  cultivation  and 
of  internal  order,  into  a  number  of  large  estates  ;  a  part  of  the  soil 
was  usually  retained  by  the  owner  of  the  manor  as  his  demesne  or 
home-farm,  while  the  remainder  was  distributed  among  tenants  who 
were  bound  to  render  service  to  their  lord.  Under  the  kings,  of 
Alfred's  house,  the  number  of  absolute  slaves,  and  the  number  of 
freemen,  had  alike  diminished.  The  slave  class,  never  numerous, 
had  been  reduced  by  the  efforts  of  the  Church,  perhaps  by  the 
general  convulsion  of  the  Danish  wars.  But  these  wars  had 
often  driven  the  ceorl  or  freeman  to  "commend"  himself  to  a 
thegn  who  pledged  him  his  protection  in  consideration  of  a  labour- 
payment.  It  is  probable  that  these  dependent  ceorls  are  the 
"  villeins"  of  the  Norman  epoch,  men  sunk  indeed  from  pure  freedom 
and  bound  both  to  soil  and  lord,  but  as  yet  preserving  much  of  their 
older  rights,  retaining  their  land,  free  as  against  all  men  but  their 
lord,  and  still  sending  representatives  to  hundred-moot  and  shire-moot 
They  stood  therefore  far  above  the  "  landless  man,"  the  man  who  had 
never  possessed  even  under  the  old  constitution  political  rights,  whom 
the  legislation  of  the  English  kings  had  forced  to  attach  himself  to  a 
lord  on  pain  of  outlawry,  and  who  served  as  household  servant  or  as 
hired  labourer,  or  at  the  best  as  rent-paying  tenant  of  land  which  was 
not  his  own.  The  Norman  knight  or  lawyer  however  saw  little  dis- 
tinction between  these  classes  ;  and  the  tendency  of  legislation  under 
the  Angevins  was  to  blend  all  in  a  single  class  of  serfs.  While  the 
pure  "theow"  or  absolute  slave  disappeared,  therefore,  the  ceorl  or 
villein  sank  lower  in  the  social  scale.  But  though  the  rural  population 
was  undoubtedly  thrown  more  together  and  fused  into  a  more  homo- 
geneous class,  its  actual  position  corresponded  very  imperfectly  with 
the  view  of  the  lawyers.  All  indeed  were  dependents  on  a  lord.  The 
manor-house  became  the  centre  of  every  English  village.  The  manor- 
court  was  held  in  its  hall ;  it  was  here  that  the  lord  or  his  steward 
received  homage,  recovered  fines,  held  the  view  of  frank- pledge,  or 
enrolled  the  villagers  in  their  tithing.  Here  too,  if  the  lord  possessed 
criminal  jurisdiction,  was  held  his  justice  court,  and  without  its  doors 
stood  his  gallows.  Around  it  lay  the  demesne  or  home-farm,  and  the 
cultivation  of  this  rested  wholly  with  the  "  villeins"  of  the  manor.  It 
was  by  them  that  the  great  barn  of  the  lord  was  filled  with  sheaves,  his 
sheep  shorn,  his  grain  malted,  the  wood  hewn  for  his  hall  fire.  These 
services  were  the  labour-rent  by  which  they  held  their  lands,  and  it 
was  the  nature  and  extent  of  this  labour-rent  which  parted  one  class  of 
the  population  from  another.  The  "  villein,"  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word,  was  bound  only  to  gather  in  his  lord's  harvest  and  to  aid  in  the 
ploughing  and  sowing  of  autumn  and  Lent.     The  cottar,  the  bordar. 


246 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAr. 


and  the  labourer  were  bound  to  help  in  the  work  of  the  home-farm 
throughout  the  year.  Hut  these  services  and  the  time  of  rendering 
them  were  strictly  limited  by  custom,  not  only  in  the  case  of  the  ceorl 
or  villein,  but  in  that  of  the  originally  meaner  "  landless  man."  The 
possession  of  his  little  homestead  with  the  ground  around  it,  the 
privilege  of  turning  out  his  cattle  on  the  waste  of  the  manor,  passed 
quietly  and  insensibly  from  mere  indulgences  that  could  be  granted  or 
withdrawn  at  a  lord's  caprice  into  rights  that  could  be  pleaded  at  law. 
The  number  of  teams,  the  fines,  the  reliefs,  the  services  that  a  lord 
could  claim,  at  first  mere  matter  of  oral  tradition,  came  to  be  entered 
on  the  court-roll  of  the  manor,  a  copy  of  which  became  the  title-deed 
of  the  villein.  It  was  to  this  that  he  owed  the  name  of  "  copy  holder  " 
which  at  a  later  time  superseded  his  older  title.  Disputes  were  settled 
by  a  reference  to  this  roll  or  on  oral  evidence  of  the  custom  at  issue, 
but  a  social  arrangement  which  was  eminently  characteristic  of  the 
English  spirit  of  compromise  generally  secured  a  fair  adjustment  of 
the  claims  of  villein  and  lord.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  lord's  bailiff  to 
exact  their  due  services  from  the  villeins,  but  his  coadjutor  in  this 
office,  the  reeve  or  foreman  of  the  manor,  was  chosen  by  the  tenants 
themselves  and  acted  as  representative  of  their  interests  and  rights. 

The  first  disturbances  of  ihe  system  of  tenure  which  we  have  described 
sprang  from  the  introduction  of  leases.  The  lord  of  the  manor,  instead 
ot  cultivating  the  demesne  through  his  own  bailiff,  often  found  it  more 
convenient  and  profitable  to  let  the  manor  to  a  tenant  at  a  given  rent, 
payable  either  in  money  or  in  kind.  Thus  we  find  the  manor  of 
Sandon  leased  by  the  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  at  a  very  early  period  on 
a  rent  which  comprised  the  payment  of  grain  both  for  bread  and  ale, 
of  alms  to  be  distributed  at  the  cathedral  door,  of  wood  to  be  used  in 
its  bakehouse  and  brewery,  and  of  money  to  be  spent  in  wages.  It  is 
to  ihis  syste.D  of  leasing,  or  rather  to  the  usual  term  for  the  rent  it 
entailed  (feorm,  from  the  Latin y?r/««),  that  we  owe  the  words,  "fatm" 
and  "  farmer,"  the  growing  use  of  which  marks  the  first  step  in  the 
rural  revolution  w'.uch  we  are  examining.  It  was  a  revolution  which 
made  little  direct  change  in  the  manorial  system,  but  its  indirect 
effect  in  breaking  the  tie  on  which  the  feudal  organization  of  the 
manor  rested,  that  of  the  tenant's  personal  dependence  on  his  lorJ, 
and  in  affording  an  opportunity  by  which  the  wealthier  among  the 
tenantry  could  rise  to  a  position  of  apparent  equality  with  their  older 
masters  and  form  a  new  class  intermediate  between  the  larger  pro- 
prietors and  the  customary  tenants,  was  of  the  highest  importance. 
This  earlier  step,  however,  in  the  modification  of  the  manorial  system, 
by  the  rise  of  the  Farmer-class,  was  soon  followed  by  one  of  a  far 
more  serious  character  in  the  rise  of  the  Free  Labourer.  Labour, 
whatever  right  it  might  have  attained  in  other  ways,  was  as  yet  in  the 
strictest  sense  bound  to  the  soil.     Neither  villein  nor  serf  had  any 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


H7 


choice,  either  of  a  master  or  of  a  sphere  of  toil.  He  was  born,  in  fact,  to 
his  holding  and  to  his  lord  ;  he  paid  head-money  for  licence  to  remove 
from  the  estate  in  search  of  trade  or  hire,  and  a  refusal  to  return  on 
recall  by  his  owner  would  have  ended  in  his  pursuit  as  a  fugitive 
outlaw.  But  the  advance  of  society  and  the  natural  increase  of 
population  had  for  a  long  time  been  silently  freeing  the  labourer  from 
this  local  bondage.  The  influence  of  the  Church  had  been  exerted  in 
promoting  emancipation,  as  a  work  of  piety,  on  all  estates  but  its  own. 
The  fugitive  bondsman  found  freedom  in  a  flight  to  ch  irtered  towns, 
where  a  residence  during  a  year  and  a  day  conferred  franchise.  A 
fresh  step  towards  freedom  was  made  by  the  growing  tendency  to 
commute  labour-services  for  money-payments.  The  population  was 
slowly  increasing,  and  as  the  law  of  gavel-kind  which  was  applicable 
\o  all  landed  estates  not  held  by  military  tenure  divided  the  inheritance 
of  the  tenantry  equally  among  their  sons,  the  holding  of  each  tenant 
and  the  services  due  from  it  became  divided  in  a  corresponding  degree. 
A  labour-rent  thus  became  more  difficult  to  enforce,  while  the  increase 
of  wealth  among  the  tenantry,  and  the  rise  of  a  new  spirit  of  indepen- 
dence, made  it  more  burthensome  to  those  who  rendered  it.  It  was 
probably  from  this  cause  that  the  commutation  of  the  arrears  of  labour 
for  a  money  payment,  which  had  long  prevailed  on  every  estate, 
gradually  developed  into  a  general  commutation  of  services.  We  have 
already  witnessed  the  silent  progress  of  this  remarkable  change  in  the 
case  of  St.  Edmundsbury,  but  the  practice  soon  became  universal,  and 
*' malt-silver,"  "wood-silver,"  and  "larder-silver,"  gradually  took  the 
place  of  the  older  personal  services  on  the  court-rolls.  The  process  of 
commutation  was  hastened  by  the  necessities  of  the  lords  themselves. 
The  luxury  of  the  castle-hall,  the  splendour  and  pomp  of  chivalry,  the 
cost  of  campaigns,  drained  the  purses  of  knight  and  baron,  and  the 
sale  of  freedom  to  a  serf  or  exemption  from  services  to  a  villein  afforded 
an  easy  and  tempting  mode  of  refilling  them.  In  this  process  even 
kings  took  part.  Edward  the  Third  sent  commissioners  to  royal 
estates  for  the  especial  purpose  of  selling  manumissions  to  the  King's 
serfs ;  and  we  still  possess  the  names  of  those  who  were  enfranchised 
with  their  families  by  a  payment  of  hard  cash  in  aid  of  the  exhausted 
exchequer. 

By  this  entire  detachment  of  the  serf  from  actual  dependence  on  the 
land,  the  manorial  system  was  even  more  radically  changed  than  by 
the  rise  of  the  serf  into  a  copyholder.  The  whole  social  condition 
of  the  country,  in  fact,  was  modified  by  the  appearance  of  a  new  class. 
The  rise  of  the  free  labourer  had  followed  that  of  the  farmer,  labour 
was  no  longer  bound  to  one  spot  or  one  master  :  it  was  free  to  hire 
itself  to  what  employer,  and  to  choose  what  field  of  employment  it 
would.  At  the  moment  we  have  reached,  in  fact,  the  lord  of  a  manor 
had  been  reduced  over  a  large  part  of  England  to  the  position  of 


24^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


a  modern  landlord,  receiving  a  rental  in  money  from  his  tenants,  and 
dependent  for  the  cultivation  of  his  own  demesne  on  paid  labourers. 
But  a  formidable  difficulty  now  met  the  landowners  who  had  been 
driven  by  the  process  of  enfranchisement  to  rely  on  hired  labour. 
Hitherto  this  supply  had  been  abundant  and  ch.  p;  but  this 
abundance  suddenly  disappeared.  The  most  terrible  plague  which 
the  world  ever  witnessed  ad  anced  at  this  juncture  from  the  East, 
and  after  devastating  Europe  from  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
to  the  Baltic,  swooped  at  the  close  of  .1348  upon  Britain.  The 
traditions  of  its  destructiveness,  and  the  panic-struck  words  of  the 
statutes  which  followed  it,  have  been  more  than  justified  by 
modern  research.  Of  the  three  or  four  millions  who  then  formed 
the  population  of  England,  more  than  one  .lalf  were  swept  away 
in  its  repeated  visitations.  Its  ravage*?  were  fiercest  in  the  greater 
towns,  where  filthy  and  undrained  streets  afforded  a  constant  haunt 
to  leprosy  and  fever.  In  the  burial-ground  which  the  piety  of  Sir 
Walter  Maunay  purchased  for  the  citizens  of  London,  a  spot  whose 
site  was  afterwards  marked  by  the  Charter  House,  more  than  fifty 
thousand  corpses  are  said  to  have  been  interred.  Thousands  of  people 
perished  at  Norwich,  while  in  Bristol  the  living  were  hardly  able  to 
bury  the  dead.  But  the  Black  Death  fell  on  the  villages  almost  as 
fiercely  as  on  the  towns.  More  than  one-half  of  the  priests  of  "ork- 
shire  are  known  to  have  perished ;  in  the  diocese  of  Norwich  two- 
thirds  of  the  parishes  changed  their  incumbents.  The  whole  organiza- 
tion of  labour  was  thrown  out  of  gear.  The  scarcity  of  hands  made  it 
difficult  for  the  minor  tenants  to  perform  the  services  due  for  th^ir 
lands,  and  only  a  temporary  abandonment  of  half  the  rent  by  the  land- 
owners induced  the  farmers  to  refrain  from  the  abandonment  of  their 
farms  For  a  time  cultivation  became  impossible.  "The  sheep  and 
cattle  strayed  through  the  fields  and  corn,"  says  a  contemporary,  "  and 
there  were  none  left  who  could  drive  them."  Even  when  the  first  burst 
of  pani.  was  over,  the  sudden  rise  of  wages  consequent  on  the  enormous 
diminution  in  the  supply  of  free  labour,  though  accompanied  by  a 
corresponding  rise  in  the  price  of  food,  rudely  disturbed  the  course  of 
industrial  employments;  harvests  rotted  on  the  giour.d,  and  fields 
were  left  untillcd,  not  merely  from  scarcity  of  hands,  but  from  the 
strife  which  now  for  the  first  time  revealed  itself  between  capital  and 
labour. 

While  the  landowners  of  the  country  and  the  wealthier  craftsmen 
of  the  town  were  threatened  wi:h  ruin  by  what  seemed  to  their  age  the 
extravagant  demands  of  the  new  labour  class,  the  country  itself  was  torn 
with  riot  and  disorder.  The  outbreak  of  lawless  self  indulgence  which 
followed  everywhere  in  the  wake  of  the  plague  told  especially  upon 
the  "  landless  men,"  wandering  in  search  of  work,  and  for  the  first 
time  masters  of  the  labour  market ;  and  the  wandering  labourer  or 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


249 


aitizan  turned  easily  into  the  "sturdy  beggar,"  or  the  bandit  of  the 
woods.  A  summary  redress  for  these  evils  was  at  once  provided  by 
the  Crown  in  a  royal  ordinance  which  was  subsequently  embodied 
in  the  Statute  of  Labourers.  "  Every  man  or  woman,"  runs  this  famous 
provision,  "  of  whatsoever  condition,  free  or  bond,  able  in  body,  and 
within  the  age  of  threescore  years,  .  .  .  and  not  having  of  his  own 
whereof  he  may  live,  nor  land  of  his  own  about  the  tillage  of  which  he 
may  occupy  himself,  and  not  serving  any  other,  shall  be  bound  to  serve 
the  employer  who  shall  require  him  to  do  so,  and  shall  take  only  the 
wages  which  were  accustomed  to  be  taken  in  the  neighbourhood  where 
he  is  bound  to  serve  "  two  years  before  the  plague  began.  A  refusal  to 
obey  was  punished  by  imprisonment.  But  sterner  measures  were  soon 
found  to  be  necessary.  Not  only  was  the  price  of  labour  fixed  by  Parlia- 
ment in  the  Statute  of  1351,  but  the  labour  class  was  once  more 
tied  to  the  soil.  The  labourer  was  forbidden  to  quit  the  parish  where 
he  lived  in  search  of  better-paid  employment ;  if  he  disobeyed  he 
became  a  "  fugitive,"  and  subject  to  imprisonment  at  the  hands  of  the 
justices  of  the  peace.  To  enforce  such  a  law  literally  must  have  been 
impossible,  for  corn  had  risen  to  so  high  a  price  that  a  day' s  labour 
at  the  old  wages  would  not  have  purchased  wheat  enough  for  a  man's 
support.  But  the  landowners  did  not  flinch  from  the  attempt.  The 
repeated  re-enactment  of  the  law  shows  the  difficulty  of  applying  it, 
and  the  stubbornness  of  the  struggle  which  it  brought  about.  The 
fines  and  forfeitures  which  were  levied  for  infractions  of  its  pro- 
visions formed  a  large  source  of  royal  revenue,  but  so  ineffectual 
were  the  original  penalties  that  the  runaway  labourer  was  at  last 
ordered  to  be  branded  with  a  hot  iron  on  the  forehead,  while  the 
harbouring  of  serfs  in  towns  was  rigorously  put  down.  Nor  was  it 
merely  the  existing  class  of  free  labourers  which  was  attacked  by  this 
reactionary  movement.  The  increase  of  their  numbers  by  a  commuta- 
tion of  labour  services  for  money  payments  was  suddenly  checked,  and 
the  ingenuity  of  the  lawyers  who  were  employed  as  stewards  of  each 
manor  was  exercised  in  striving  to  restore  to  the  landowners  that  cus- 
tomary labour  whose  loss  was  now  severely  felt.  Manumissions  and 
exemptions  which  had  passed  without  question  were  cancelled  on 
grounds  of  informality,  and  labour  services  from  which  they  held  them- 
selves freed  by  redemption  were  again  demanded  from  the  villeins. 
The  attempt  was  the  more  galling  that  the  cause  had  to  be  pleaded  in 
the  manor-court  itself,  and  to  be  decided  by  the  very  officer  whose 
interest  it  was  to  give  judgement  in  favour  of  his  lord.  We  can  see  the 
growth  of  a  fierce  spirit  of  resistance  through  the  statutes  which  strove 
in  vain  to  repress  it.  In  the  towns,  where  the  system  of  forced  labour 
was  applied  with  even  more  rigour  than  in  the  country,  strikes  and 
combinations  became  frequent  among  the  lower  craftsmen.  In  the 
country  the  free  labourers  found  allies  in  the  villeins  whose  freedom 


250 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


from  manorial  service  was  questioned.  These  were  often  men  of 
position  and  substance,  and  throughout  the  eastern  counties  the 
gatherings  of  "  fugitive  serfs  "  were  supported  by  an  organized  resist- 
ance and  by  large  contributions  of  money  on  the  part  of  the  wealthier 
tenantry.  A  statute  of  later  date  throws  light  on  their  resistance. 
It  tells  us  that  "  villeins  and  holders  of  lands  in  villeinage  withdrew 
their  customs  and  services  from  their  lords,  having  attached  themselves 
to  other  persons  who  maintained  and  abetted  them  ;  and  who,  under 
colour  of  e  :emplifications  from  Domesday  of  the  manors  and  villages 
where  they  dwelt,  claimed  to  be  quit  of  all  manner  of  services,  eit'^er  of 
their  body  or  of  their  lands,  and  would  suffer  no  distress  or  other  course 
of  justice  to  be  taken  against  then  ;  the  villeins  aiding  their  maintainers 
by  threatening  the  officers  of  their  lords  with  peril  to  life  and  limb,  as 
well  by  open  assemblies  as  by  confederacies  to  support  each  other."  It 
would  seem  not  only  as  if  the  villein  was  striving  to  resist  the  reactionary 
tendency  of  the  lords  of  manors  to  regain  his  labour  service,  but  that  in 
the  general  overturning  of  social  institutions  the  copyholder  was  strug- 
gling to  become  a  freeholder,  and  the  farmer  to  be  recognized  as  pro- 
prietor of  the  demesne  he  held  on  lease. 

A  more  terrible  outcome  of  the  general  suffering  was  seen  in 
a  new  revolt  against  the  whole  system  of  social  inequality  which 
had  till  then  passed  unquestioned  as  the  divine  order  of  the  world. 
1  he  cry  of  the  poor  found  a  terrible  utterance  in  the  words  of  "  a 
mad  priest  of  Kent,"  as  the  courtly  Froissart  calls  him,  who  for 
twenty  years  found  audience  for  his  sermons,  in  defiance  of  interdict 
and  imprisonment,  in  the  stout  yeomen  who  gathered  in  the  Kentish 
churchyards.  "Mad"  as  the  landowners  jailed  him,  it  was  in  the 
preaching  of  John  Ball  that  England  first  listened  to  a  declaration 
of  natural  equality  and  the  rights  of  man.  "  Good  people,"  cried  the 
preacher^  "  things  will  never  go  well  in  England  so  long  as  goods  be 
not  in  common,  and  so  long  as  there  be  villeins  and  gentlemen.  By 
what  right  are  they  whom  we  call  lords  greater  folk  than  we?  On 
what  grounds  have  they  deserved  it  ?  Why  do  they  hold  us  in  serfage  ? 
If  we  all  came  of  the  same  fiither  and  mother,  of  Adam  and  Eve,  how 
can  they  say  or  prove  that  they  are  better  than  we,  if  it  be  not  that 
they  make  us  gain  for  them  by  our  toil  what  they  spend  in  their 
pride .''  They  are  clothed  in  velvet,  and  warm  in  their  furs  and  their 
ermines,  while  we  are  covered  with  rags.  They  have  wine  and  spices 
and  fair  bread  ;  and  we  oat-cake  and  straw,  and  water  to  drink. 
They  have  leisure  and  fine  houses  ;  we  have  pain  and  labour,  the 
rain  and  the  wind  in  the  fields.  And  yet  it  is  of  us  and  of  our 
toil  that  these  men  hold  their  state."  It  was  the  tyranny  of  pro- 
perty that  then  as  ever  roused  the  defiance  of  socialism.  A  spirit 
fatal  to  the  whole  system  of  the  Middle  Ages  breathed  in  the 
popular    rime    which    condensed    the    levelling    doctrine    of   John 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


251 


Ball :    "  When   Adam    delved    and    Eve    span,   who   was  then   the 
gentleman  ? " 

The  rime  was  running  from  lip  to  lip  when  a  fresh  instance  of 
public  oppression  fanned  the  smouldering  discontent  into  a  flame. 
Edward  the  Third  died  in  a  dishonoured  old  age,  robbed  on  his 
death-bed  even  of  his  finger-rings  by  the  vile  mistress  to  whom  he  had 
clung  ;  and  the  accession  of  the  child  of  the  Black  Prince,  Richard 
the  Second,  revived  the  hopes  of  what  in  a  political  sense  we  must 
still  call  the  popular  party  in  the  Legislature.  The  Parliament  of 
1377  took  up  the  work  of  reform,  and  boldly  assumed  the  control 
of  a  new  subsidy  by  assigning  two  of  their  number  to  regulate 
its  expenditure ."  that  of  1378  demanded  and  obtained  an  account  of 
the  mode  in  which  the  subsidy  had  been  spent.  But  the  real  strength 
of  Parliament  was  directed,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  desperate  struggle 
in  which  the  proprietary  classes,  whom  they  exclusively  represented, 
were  striving  to  reduce  the  labourer  into  a  fresh  serfage.  Meanwhile 
the  shame  of  defeat  abroad  was  added  to  the  misery  and  discord  at 
home.  The  French  war  ran  its  disastrous  course  :  one  English  fleet 
was  beaten  by  the  Spaniards,  a  second  sunk  by  a  storm  ;  and  a 
campaign  in  the  heart  of  France  ended,  like  its  predecessors,  in  dis- 
appointment and  ruin.  It  was  to  defray  the  heavy  expenses  of  the  war 
that  the  Parliament  of  1380  renewed  a  grant  made  three  years  before, 
to  be  raised  by  means  of  a  poll-tax  on  every  person  in  the  realm. 
The  tax  brought  under  contribution  a  class  which  had  hitherto 
escaped,  men  such  as  the  labourer,  the  village  smith,  the  village 
tiler  ;  it  goaded  into  action  precisely  the  class  which  was  already 
seething  with  discontent,  and  its  exaction  set  England  on  fire  from 
sea  to  sea.  As  spring  went  on  quaint  rimes  passed  through  the  country, 
and  served  as  summons  to  the  revolt  which  soon  extended  from  the 
eastern  and  midland  counties  over  all  England  south  of  the  Thames. 
"John  Ball,"  ran  one,  "greeteth  you  all,  and  doth  for  to  understand 
he  hath  rung  your  bell.  Now  right  and  might,  will  and  s'kill,  God 
speed  every  dele."  "  Help  truth,"  ran  another,  "and  truth  shall  help 
you  !  Now  reigneth  pride  in  price,  and  covetise  is  counted  wise,  and 
lechery  withouten  shame,  and  gluttony  withouten  blame.  Envy  reigneth 
with  treason,  and  sloth  is  take  in  great  season.  God  do  bote,  for 
now  is  tyme  ! "  We  recognise  Ball's  hand  in  the  yet  more  stirring 
missives  of  "Jack  the  Miller"  and  "Jack  the  Carter."  "Jack  Miller 
asketh  help  to  turn  his  mill  aright.  He  hath  grounden  small,  small  : 
the  King's  ^  on  of  Heaven  he  shall  pay  for  all.  Look  thy  mill  go 
aright  with  the  four  sailes,  and  the  post  stand  with  steadfastness. 
With  right  and  with  might,  with  skill  and  with  will ;  let  might 
help  right,  and  skill  go  before  will,  and  right  before  might,  so  goeth 
our  mill  aright  "  "  Jack  Carter,"  ran  the  companion  missive,  "  prays 
you  all  that  ye   make  a  good  end  of  that  ye   have  begun,  and  do 


252 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAf. 


well,  and  aye  better  and  better:  for  at  the  even  men  heareth  the 
day."  "  Falseness  and  guile,"  sang  Jack  Ti^wman,  "  have  reigned  too 
long,  and  truth  hath  been  set  under  a  lock,  and  falseness  and  guile 
reigneth  in  every  stock.  No  man  may  come  truth  to,  but  if  he  sing 
*  si  dedero.'  True  love  is  away  that  was  so  good,  and  clerks  for 
wealth  work  them  woe.  God  do  bote,  for  now  is  tyme."  In  the  rude 
jingle  of  these  lines  began  for  England  the  literature  of  political 
controversy  :  they  are  the  first  predecessors  of  the  pamphlets  of 
Milton  and  of  Burke.  Rough  as  they  are,  they  express  clearly  enough 
the  mingled  passions  which  met  in  the  revolt  of  the  peasants  :  their 
longing  for  a  right  rule,  for  plain  and  simple  justice  ;  their  scorn  of  the 
immorality  of  the  nobles  and  the  infamy  of  the  court  ;  their  resentment 
at  the  perversion  of  the  law  to  the  cause  of  oppression.  The  revolt 
spread  like  wildfire  over  the  country  ;  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  Cambridge 
and  Hertfordshire  rose  in  arms  ;  from  Sussex  and  Surrey  the  insurrec- 
tion extended  as  far  as  Devon.  But  the  actual  outbreak  began  in  Kent, 
where  a  tiler  killed  a  tax-collector  in  vengeance  for  an  outrage  on  his 
daughter.  The  county  rose  in  arms.  Canterbury,  where  "  the  whole 
town  was  of  their  mind,"  threw  open  its  gates  to  the  insurgents,  who 
plundered  the  Archbishop's  palace  and  dragged  John  Ball  from  its 
prison,  while  a  hundred  thousand  Kentish-men  gathered  round  Wat 
Tyler  of  Essex  and  John  Hales  of  Mailing.  In  the  eastern  counties  the 
levy  of  the  poll-tax  had  already  gathered  crowds  of  peasants  together, 
armed  with  clubs,  rusty  swords,  and  bows,  and  the  royal  commis- 
sioners sent  to  repress  the  tumult  were  driven  from  the  field.  While  the 
Essex-men  marched  upon  London  on  one  side  of  the  river,  the  Kentish- 
men  marched  on  the  other.  Their  grievance  was  mainly  political,  for 
villeinage  was  unknown  in  Kent ;  but  as  they  poured  on  to  Blackheath, 
every  lawyer  who  fell  into  their  hands  was  put  to  death  ;  "  not  till  all 
these  were  killed  would  the  land  enjoy  its  old  freedom  again,"  the 
peasants  shouted  as  they  fired  the  houses  of  the  stewards  and  flung 
the  records  of  the  manor-courts  into  the  flames.  The  whole  popula- 
tion joined  them  as  they  marched  along,  while  the  nobles  were 
paralyzed  with  fear.  The  young  King— he  was  but  a  boy  of  fifteen — 
addressed  them  from  a  boat  on  the  river ;  but  the  refusal  of  his 
Council  under  the  guidance  of  Archbishop  Sudbury  to  allow  him  to 
land  kindled  the  peasants  to  fury,  and  with  cries  of  "Treason" 
the  great  mass  rushed  on  London.  Its  gates  were  flung  open  by 
the  poorer  artizans  within  the  city,  and  the  stately  palace  of  John 
of  Gaunt  at  the  Savoy,  the  new  inn  of  the  lawyers  at  the  Temple, 
the  houses  of  the  foreign  merchants,  were  soon  in  a  blaze.  But  the 
insurgents,  as  they  proudly  boasted,  were  "seekers  of  truth  and 
justice,  not  thieves  or  robbers,"  and  a  plunderer  found  carrying  off 
a  silver  vessel  from  the  sack  of  the  Savoy  was  flung  with  his  spoil 
into  the  flames.     The  general  terror  was  shown  ludicrously  enough  on 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


253 


the  following  day,  when  a  daring  band  of  peasants,  under  Tyler  him- 
self, forced  their  way  into  the  Tower,  and  taking  the  panic-stricken 
knights  of  the  royal  household  in  rough  horse-play  by  the  beard, 
promised  to  be  their  equals  and  good  comrades  in  the  time  to  come. 
But  the  horse-play  changed  into  dreadful  earnest  when  they  found  the 
King  had  escaped  their  grasp,  and  when  Archbishop  Sudbury  and 
the  Prior  of  St.  John  were  discovered  in  the  chapel ;  the  prjmate  was 
dragged  from  his  sanctuary  and  beheaded,  and  the  same  vengeance 
was  wreaked  on  the  Treasurer  and  the  Chief  Commissioner  for  the 
levy  of  the  hated  poll-tax.  Meanwhile  the  King  had  ridden  from  the 
Tower  to  meet  the  mass  of  the  Essex-men,  who  had  encamped  without 
the  city  at  Mile-end,  while  the  men  of  Hertfordshire  and  St.  Albans 
occupied  Highbury.  "  I  am  your  King  and  Lord,  good  people,"  the 
boy  began  with  a  fearlessness  which  marked  his  bearing  throughout 
the  crisis  ;  "  what  will  ye  ? "  "  We  will  that  you  free  us  for  ever," 
shouted  the  peasants,  "  us  and  our  lands  ;  and  that  we  be  never  named 
nor  held  for  serfs."  "  I  grant  it,"  replied  Richard  ;  and  he  bade  them 
go  home,  pledging  himself  at  once  to  issue  charters  of  freedom  and 
amnesty.  A  shout  of  joy  welcomed  the  promise.  Throughout  the 
day  more  than  thirty  clerks  were  busied  writing  letters  of  pardon  and 
emancipation,  and  with  these  the  mass  of  the  Essex  and  Hertfordshire 
men  withdrew  quietly  t  j  their  homes.  It  was  with  such  a  charter  that 
William  Grindecobbe  returned  to  St.  Albans,  and  breaking  at  the 
head  of  the  burghers  into  the  abbey  precincts,  summoned  the  abbot  to 
deliver  up  the  charters  which  bound  the  town  in  bondage  to  his  house. 
But  a  more  striking  proof  of  servitude  remained  in  the  millstones, 
which  after  a  long  suit  at  law  had  been  adjudged  to  the  abbey,  and 
placed  within  its  cloister  as  a  triumphant  witness  that  no  townsman 
might  grind  corn  within  the  domain  of  the  abbey  save  at  the  abbot's 
will.  Bursting  into  the  cloister  the  burghers  now  tore  the  millstones 
from  the  floor,  and  broke  them  into  small  pieces,  "  like  blessed  bread 
in  church,"  so  that  each  might  have  something  to  show  of  the  day 
when  their  freedom  was  won  again. 

Many  of  the  Kentish-men  dispersed  at  the  news  of  the  King's  pledge 
to  the  men  of  Essex,  but  thirty  thousand  men  still  surrounded  Wat 
Tyler  when  Richard  by  a  mere  chance  encountered  him  the  next  morn- 
ing at  Smithfield.  Hot  words  passed  between  his  train  and  the  peasant 
leader,  who  advanced  to  confer  with  the  Kmg  ;  and  a  threat  from  Tyler 
brought  on  a  brief  struggle  in  which  the  Mayor  of  London,  William 
Walworth,  struck  him  with  his  dagger  to  the  ground.  "  Kill,  kill," 
shouted  the  crowd,  "  they  have  slain  our  captain."  "  What  need  ye, 
my  masters  ?  "  cried  the  boy-king,  as  he  rode  boldly  to  the  front,  "  I 
am  your  Captain  and  your  King  !  Follow  me."  The  hopes  of  the 
peasants  centred  in  the  young  sovereig  1 :  one  aim  of  their  rising  had 


been  to  free  him  from  the  evil  counsellors  who,  as  they  believed,  abus'ed  I 


254 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Wwv,  1 38 1 


his  youth,  and  they  now  followed  him  with  a  touching  loyalty  and  trust 
till  he  entered  the  Tower.  His  mother  welcomed  him  with  tears  of  joy. 
"  Rejoice  and  praise  God,"  the  boy  answered,  "  for  I  have  recovered 
to-day  my  heritage  which  was  lost,  and  the  realm  of  England. '  But 
he  was  compelled  to  give  the  same  pledge  of  freedom  as  at  Mile-end, 
and  it  was  only  after  receiving  bis  letters  of  pardon  and  emancipation 
that  the  Kentish-men  dispersed  to  their  homes.  The  revolt,  indeed, 
was  far  from  being  at  an  end.  South  of  the  Thames  it  spread  as  far 
as  Devonshire  ;  there  were  outbreaks  in  the  north  ;  the  eastern  coun- 
ties were  in  one  wild  turmoil  of  revolt.  A  body  of  peasants  occupied 
St.  Albans.  A  maddened  crowd  forced  the  gates  of  St.  Edmundsbury 
and  wrested  from  the  trembling  monks  pledges  for  the  confirmation  ot 
the  liberties  of  the  town.  John  the  Litster,a  dyer  of  Norwich,  headed  a 
mass  of  peasants,  under  the  title  of  King  of  the  Commons,  and  compelled 
the  nobles  he  captured  to  act  as  his  meat-tasters  and  to  serve  him  on  their 
knees  during  his  repast  But  the  withdrawal  of  the  peasant  armies  with 
their  letters  of  emancipation  gave  courage  lo  the  nobles.  The  warlike 
Bishop  of  Norwich  fell  lance  in  hand  on  Litster's  camp,  and  scattered 
the  peasants  of  Norfolk  at  the  first  shock :  while  the  King,  with 
an  army  of  40,000  men,  spread  terror  by  the  ruthlessness  of  his 
executions  as  he  marched  in  triumph  through  Kent  and  Essex.  At 
Waltham  he  was  met  by  the  display  of  his  own  recent  charters  and  a 
protest  from  the  Essex-men  that  "  they  were  so  far  as  freedom  went 
the  peers  of  their  lords."  But  they  were  to  learn  the  worth  of  a 
king's  word.  '*  Villeins  you  were,"  answered  Richard,  "  and  villeins 
you  are.  In  bondage  you  shall  abide,  and  that  not  your  old  bondage, 
but  a  worse  !  "  But  the  stubborn  resistance  which  he  met  showed 
the  temper  of  the  people.  The  villagers  of  Billericay  threw  themselves 
into  the  woods  and  fought  two  hard  fights  before  they  were  reduced  to 
submission.  It  was  only  by  threats  of  death  that  verdicts  of  guilty 
could  be  wrung  from  the  Essex  jurors  when  the  leaders  of  the  revolt 
were  brought  before  them.  Grindecobbe  was  offered  his  life  if  he 
would  persuade  his  followers  at  St.  Albans  to  restore  the  charters 
they  had  wrung  from  the  monks.  He  turned  bravely  to  his  fellow- 
townsmen  and  bade  them  take  no  thought  for  his  trouble.  **  If  I 
die,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  die  for  the  cause  of  the  freedom  we  have  won, 
counting  myself  happy  to  end  my  life  by  such  a  martyrdom.  Do  then 
to-day  as  you  would  have  done  had  I  been  killed  yesterday."  But  the 
stubborn  will  of  the  conquered  was  met  by  as  stubborn  a  will  in  their 
conquerors.  Through  the  summer  and  autumn  seven  thousand  men 
are  said  to  have  perished  on  the  gallows  or  the  field.  The  royal 
council  indeed  showed  its  sense  of  the  danger  of  a  mere  policy  ot 
resistance  by  submitting  the  question  of  enfranchisement  to  the  Parlia- 
ment which  assembled  on  the  suppression  of  the  revolt,  with  words 
which  suggested  a  compromise.    "  If  you  desire  to  enfranchise  and 


■7.1 


TEIE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


255 


set  at  liberty  the  said  serfs,"  ran  the  royal  message,  "  by  your  com- 
mon assent,  as  the  King  has  been  informed  that  some  of  you  desire, 
he  will  consent  to  your  prayer."  But  no  thoughts  of  compromise 
influenced  the  landowners  in  their  reply.  The  King's  grant  and 
letters,  the  Parliament  answered  with  perfect  truth,  were  legally  null 
and  void :  their  serfs  were  their  goods,  and  the  King  could  not  take  their 
goods  from  them  but  by  their  own  consent.  "  And  this  consent,"  they 
ended,  "  we  have  never  given  and  never  will  give,  were  we  all  to  die  in 
one  day." 

Section  V.— Richard  the  Second,  1381—1399. 

[Authorities. — The  "  Annales  Ricardi  Secundi  et  Henrici  Quarti,"  published 
by  the  Master  of  the  Rolls,  are  our  main  authority.  They  form  the  basis  of  the 
St.  Albans  compilation  which  bears  the  name  of  Walsingham,  and  from  which 
the  Life  of  Richard  by  a  mon^v  of  Evesham  is  for  the  most  part  derived.  The 
same  violent  Lancastrian  sympathy  runs  through  Walsingham  and  the  fifth 
book  of  Knyghton's  Chronicle.  The  French  authorities,  on  the  o  her  hand, 
are  vehemeiitly  on  Richard's  side.  Froissirt,  who  ends  at  this  time,  is  sup- 
plemented by  the  metrical  history  of  Creton  ("  Archaeolotj;ia,''  vol.  xx.)  and  the 
"Chronique  de  la  Traison  et  Mort  de  Richart  "  (English  Historical  Societyi, 
both  the  works  of  trench  authors,  and  published  in  France  in  the  time  of 
Henry  the  Fourth,  probably  with  the  aim  of  arousing  h'rench  feeling  against 
the  House  of  Lancaster  and  the  war- policy  it  had  revived.  The  popular 
feeling  in  England  may  be  seen  in  "Political  Songs  from  Edward  HI.  to 
Richard  HL"  (Rolls  Series).  The  "Foedera"  and  Rolls  of  Parliament  are 
indispensable  for  this  period :  its  constitutional  importance  has  been  ably 
illustrated  by  Mr.  Hallam  ("Middle  Ages").  William  Longland's  poem,  the 
"Complaint  of  Piers  the  Ploughman"  (edited  by  Mr.  Skeat  for  the  Early 
En<^lish  Text  S  ciety),  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  the  social  condition  of  England 
dt  the  time  ;  a  poem  on  "The  Deposition  f  Richard  H.,"  which  has  been 
published  by  the  Camden  Society,  is  now  ascribed  to  the  same  author.  The 
best  modern  work  on  Richard  H.  is  that  of  M.  Wallon  ("  Kichard  H." 
Pari<,   1864).] 

All  the  darker  and  sterner  aspects  of  the  age  which  we  have  been 
viewing,  its  social  revolt,  its  moral  and  religious  awakening,  the  misery 
of  the  poor,  the  protest  of  the  Lollard,  are  painted  with  a  terrible 
fidelity  in  the  poem  of  William  Longland.  Nothing  brings  more 
vividly  home  to  us  the  social  chasm  which  in  the  fourteenth  century 
severed  the  rich  from  the  poor  than  the  contrast  between  the  "  Com- 
plaint of  Piers  the  Ploughman"  and  the  "Canterbury  Tales."  The 
world  of  wealth  and  ease  and  laughter  through  which  the  courtly 
Chaucer  moves  with  eyes  downcast  as  in  a  pleasant  dream  is  a  far-off 
world  of  wrong  and  of  ungodliness  to  the  gaunt  poet  of  the  poor.  Born 
probably  in  Shropshire,  where  he  had  been  put  to  school  and  received 
minor  orders  as  a  clerk,  "  Long  Will,"  as  Longland  was  nicknamed 
for  his  tall  stature,  found  his  way  at  an  early  age  to  London,  and 
earned  a  miserable  livelihood  there  by  singing  "placebos "and  "diriges" 
m  the  stately  funerals  of  his  day.     Men  too.c  the  moody  clerk  for  a 


A50 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


icafi:3k 


madman  ;  his  bitter  poverty  quickened  the  defiant  pride  that  made 
him  loth — as  he  tells  us — to  bow  to  the  gay  lords  and  dames  who  rode 
decked  in  silver  and  minivere  along  the  Cheap,  or  to  exchange  a  "  God 
save  you  "  with  the  law  sergeants  as  he  passed  their  new  house  in  the 
Temple.  His  world  is  the  world  of  the  poor:  he  dwells  on  the  poor 
man's  life,  on  his  hunger  and  toil,  his  rough  revelry  and  his  despair, 
with  the  narrow  intensity  of  a  man  who  has  no  outlook  beyond  it 
The  narrowness,  the  misery,  the  monotony  of  the  life  he  paints  reflect 
themselves  in  his  verse.  It  is  only  here  and  there  that  a  love  of 
nature  or  a  grim  earnestness  of  wrath  quicken  his  rime  into  poetry  ; 
there  is  not  a  gleam  of  the  bright  human  sympathy  of  Chaucer,  of  his 
fresh  delight  in  the  gaiety,  the  tenderness  the  daring  of  the  world 
about  him,  of  his  picturesque  sense  of  even  its  coarsest  contrasts,  of 
his  delicate  irony,  of  his  courtly  wit.  The  cumbrous  allegory,  th* 
tedious  platitudes,  the  rimed  texts  from  Scripture  which  form  the 
staple  of  Longland's  work,  are  orly  broken  here  and  there  by  phrases 
of  a  shrewd  common  sense,  by  bitter  outbursts,  by  pictures  of  a  broad 
Hogarthian  humour.  What  chains  one  to  the  poem  is  its  deep  under- 
tone of  sadness :  the  world  is  out  of  joint  and  the  gaunt  rimer  who 
st.ilks  silently  along  the  Strand  has  no  faith  in  his  power  to  put  it 
right.  His  poem  covers  indeed  an  age  of  shame  and  suffering  such  as 
England  had  never  known,  for  if  its  first  brief  sketch  appeared  two 
years  after  the  Peace  of  Brdtigny  its  completion  may  be  dated  at  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third,  and  its  final  issue  preceded 
but  by  a  single  year  the  Peasant  Revolt.  Londoner  as  he  is,  Will's 
fancy  flies  far  from  the  sin  and  suffering  of  the  great  city  to  a  May- 
morning  in  the  Malvern  Hills.  "  I  was  wery  forwandered  and  went 
me  to  rest  under  a  broad  bank  by  a  burn  side,  and  as  1  lay  and  leaned 
and  looked  in  the  water  I  slumbered  in  a  sleeping,  it  sweyved  (sounded) 
so  merry."  Just  as  Chaucer  gathers  the  typical  figures  of  the  world  he 
s<iv  into  his  pilgrim  train,  so  the  dreamer  gathers  into  a  wide  field  his 
army  of  traders  and  chafferers,  of  hermits  and  solitaries,  of  minstrels, 
"  japers  and  jinglers,"  bidders  and  begg.irs,  ploughmen  that  "  in  setting 
and  in  sowing  swonken  (toil)  full  hard,"  pilgrims  "  with  their  wenches 
after,"  weavers  and  labourers,  burgess  and  bondman,  lawyer  and 
scrivener,  court-haunting  bishops,  friars,  and  pardoners  "parting 
the  silver  "  with  the  parish  priest  Their  pilgrimage  is  not  to  Can- 
terbury, but  to  Truth  ;  their  guide  to  Truth  neither  clerk  nor  priest 
but  Peterkin  the  Ploughman,  whom  they  find  ploughing  in  his  field. 
He  it  is  who  bids  the  knight  no  more  wrest  gifts  from  his  tenant 
nor  misdo  with  the  poor.  "  Though  he  be  thine  underling  here, 
well  may  hap  in  heaven  that  he  be  worthier  set  and  with  more  bliss 
than  thou.  .  .  .  For  in  charnel  at  church  churles  be  evil  to 
know,  or  a  knight  from  a  knave  there."  The  gospel  of  equality  is 
backed  by  the  gospel  of  labour.     The  aim  of  the  Ploughman  is  co 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


257 


work,  and  to  make  the  world  work  with  him.  He  warns  the  labourer 
as  he  warns  the  knight.  Hunger  is  God's  instrument  in  bringing  the 
idlest  to  toil,  and  Hunger  waits  to  work  her  will  on  the  idler  and 
the  waster.  On  the  eve  of  the  great  struggle  between  wealth  and 
labour  Longland  stands  alone  in  his  fairness  to  both,  in  his  shrewd 
political  and  religious  common  sense.  In  the  face  of  the  popular  hatred 
which  was  to  gather  round  John  of  Gaunt,  he  paints  the  Duke  in 
a  famous  apologue  as  the  cat  who,  greedy  as  she  might  be,  at 
any  rate  keeps  the  noble  rats  from  utterly  devouring  the  mice  of 
the  people.  Though  the  poet  is  loyal  to  the  Church,  he  pro- 
claims a  righteous  life  to  be  better  than  a  host  of  indulgences,  and 
God  sends  His  pardon  to  Piers  when  priests  dispute  it.  But  he 
sings  as  a  man  conscious  of  his  loneliness  and  without  hope.  It  is 
only  in  a  dream  that  he  sees  Corruption,  "  Lady  Mede,"  brought  to 
trial,  and  the  world  repenting  at  the  preaching  of  Reason.  In  the 
waking  life  Reason  finds  no  listeners.  The  poet  himself  is  looked 
upon — he  tells  us  bitterly —as  a  madman.  There  is  a  terrible  despair 
in  the  close  of  his  later  poem,  where  the  triumph  of  Christ  is  only 
followed  by  the  reign  of  Antichrist ;  where  Contrition  slumbers 
amidst  the  revel  of  Death  and  Sin  ;  and  Conscience,  hard  beset  by 
Pride  and  Sloth,  rouses  himself  with  a  last  effort,  and  seizing  his 
pilgrim  staff  wanders  over  the  world  to  find  Piers  Ploughman. 

The  strife  indeed  which  Longland  would  have  averted  raged  only 
the  fiercer  after  the  repression  of  the  Peasant  Revolt.  The  Statutes 
of  Labourers,  effective  as  they  proved  in  sowing  hatred  between 
employer  and  employed,  between  rich  and  poor,  were  powerless  for 
their  immediate  ends,  either  in  reducing  the  actual  rate  of  wages  or  in 
restricting  the  mass  of  floating  labour  to  definite  areas  of  employment. 
During  the  century  and  a  half  after  the  Peasant  Revolt  villeinage  died 
out  so  rapidly  that  it  became  a  rare  and  antiquated  thing.  A  hundred 
years  after  the  Black  Death  the  wages  of  an  English  labourer  could 
purchase  twice  the  amount  of  the  ne  essaries  of  life  which  could 
have  been  obtained  for  the  wages  paid  under  Edward  the  Third.  The 
statement  is  corroborated  by  the  incidental  descriptions  of  the  life  of 
the  working  classes  which  we  find  in  Piers  Ploughman.  Labourers, 
Longlanjd  tells  us,  *'  that  have  no  land  to  live  on  but  their  hands 
disdained  to  live  on  penny  ale  or  bacon,  but  demanded  fresh  flesh 
or  fish,  fried  or  baked,  and  that  hot  and  hotter  for  chilling  of  their  maw." 
The  market  was  still  in  fact  in  the  labourer's  hands,  in  spite  of  statutes  ; 
''  and  but  if  he  be  highly  hired  else  will  he  chide  and  wail  the  time  that 
he  was  made  a  workman."  The  poet  saw  clearly  that  as  population  rose 
to  its  normal  rate  times  such  as  these  would  pass  away.  "  Whiles 
Hunger  was  their  master  here  would  none  of  them  chide  or  strive 
against  his  statute,  so  sternly  he  looked  :  and  I  warn  you,  workmen, 
wm  while  ye  may,  for  Hunger  hitherward  hasteth  him  fast."  But  even 


!58 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


at  the  time  when  he  wrote  there  were  seasons  of  the  year  during  which 
employment  for  the  floating  mass  of  labour  was  hard  to  find.  In  the 
long  interval  between  harvest-tide  and  harvest-tide,  work  and  food 
were  alike  scarce  in  the  mediaeval  homestead.  "  I  have  no  penny," 
says  Piers  the  Ploughman  in  such  a  season,  in  lines  which  give  us  the 
picture  of  a  farm  of  the  day,  "  pullets  for  to  buy,  nor  neither  geese 
nor  pigs,  but  two  green  cheeses,  a  few  curds  and  cream,  and  an  oaten 
cake,  and  two  loaves  of  beans  and  bran  baken  for  my  children.  I 
have  no  salt  bacon,  nor  no  cooked  meat  coUops  for  to  make,  but  I  have 
parsley  and  leeks  and  many  cabbage  plants,  and  eke  a  cow  and  a 
calf,  and  a  cart-mare  to  draw  a-field  my  dung  while  the  drought 
lasteth,  and  by  this  livelihood  we  must  all  live  till  Lammas-tide 
(August),  and  by  that  I  hope  to  have  harvest  in  my  croft."  But 
it  was  not  till  Lammas-tide  that  high  wages  and  the  new  com 
bade  "  Hunger  go  to  sleep,"  and  during  the  long  spring  and  summer 
the  free  labourer,  and  the  "waster  that  will  not  work  but  wander 
about,  that  will  eat  no  bread  but  the  finest  wheat,  nor  drink  but 
of  the  best  and  brownest  ale,"  was  a  source  of  social  and  political 
danger.  "He  grieveth  him  against  God  and  grudgeth  against 
Reason,  and  then  curseth  he  the  King  and  all  his  Council  after  such 
law  to  allow  labourers  to  grieve."  The  terror  of  the  landowners 
expressed  itself  in  legislation  which  was  a  fitting  sequel  to  the  Statutes 
of  Labourers.  They  forbade  the  child  of  any  tiller  of  the  soil  to  be 
apprenticed  in  a  town.  They  prayed  Richard  to  ordain  "that  no 
bondman  or  bondwoman  shall  place  their  children  at  school,  as  has 
been  done,  so  as  to  advance  their  children  in  the  world  by  their  going 
into  the  Church."  The  new  colleges  which  were  being  founded  at  the 
two  Universities  at  this  moment  closed  their  gates  upon  villeins.  It 
was  the  failure  of  such  futile  efforts  to  effect  their  aim  which  drove 
the  energy  of  the  great  proprietors  into  a  new  direction,  and  in  the 
end  revolutionized  the  whole  agricultural  system  of  the  country. 
Sheep-farming  required  fewer  hands  than  tillage,  and  the  scarcity 
and  high  price  of  labour  tended  to  throw  more  and  more  land  into 
sheep-farms.  In  the  decrease  of  personal  service,  as  villeinage  died 
away,  it  became  the  interest  of  the  lord  to  diminish  the  number  of 
tenants  on  his  estate  as  it  had  been  before  his  interest  to  maintain  it, 
ind  he  did  this  by  massing  the  small  allotments  together  into  larger 
holdings.  By  this  course  of  eviction  the  number  of  the  free-labour 
class  was  enormously  increased  while  the  area  of  employment  was 
diminished  ;  and  the  social  danger  from  vagabondage  and  the  "  sturdy 
beggar  "  grew  every  day  greater  till  it  brought  about  the  despotism  of 
the  Tudors. 

This  social  danger  mingled  with  the  yet  more  formidable  religious 
peril  which  sprang  from  the  party  violence  of  the  later  LoUardry.  The 
persecution  of  Courtenay  had  deprived  the  religious  reform  of  its 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


259 


more  learned  adherents  and  of  the  support  of  the  Universities,  while 
Wyclif  s  death  had  robbed  it  of  its  head  at  a  moment  when  little  had 
been  done  save  a  work  of  destruction.  From  that  moment  Lollardry 
ceased  to  be  in  any  sense  an  organized  movement,  and  crumbled  into 
a  general  spirit  of  revolt.  All  the  religious  and  social  discontent  of 
the  times  floated  instinctively  to  this  new  centre  ;  the  socialist  dreams 
of  the  peasantry,  the  new  and  keener  spirit  of  personal  morality,  the 
hatred  of  the  friars,  the  jealousy  of  the  great  lords  towards  the  prelacy, 
the  fanaticism  of  the  reforming  zealot,  were  blended  together  in  a  common 
hostility  to  the  Church  and  a  common  resolve  to  substitute  personal 
religion  for  its  dogmatic  and  ecclesiastical  system.  But  it  was  this  want 
of  organization,  this  looseness  and  fluidity  of  the  new  movement,  that 
made  it  penetrate  through  every  class  of  society.  Women  as  well  as 
men  became  the  preachers  of  the  new  sect.  Lollardry  had  its  own 
schools,  its  own  books  ;  its  pamphlets  were  passed  everywhere  from 
hand  to  hand  ;  scurrilous  ballads  which  revived  the  old  attacks  of 
"  Golias  "  in  the  Angevin  times  upon  the  wealth  and  luxury  of  the  clergy 
were  sung  at  every  corner.  Nobles,  like  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  at 
a  later  time  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  placed  themselves  openly  at  the  head 
of  the  cause  and  threw  open  their  gates  as  a  refuge  for  its  missionaries. 
London  in  its  hatred  of  the  clergy  became  fiercely  Lollard,  and  defended 
a  Lollard  preacher  who  had  ventured  to  advocate  the  new  doctrines  from 
the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's.  One  of  its  mayors,  John  of  Northampton,  showed 
the  influence  of  the  new  morality  by  the  Puritan  spirit  in  which  he  dealt 
with  the  morals  of  the  city.  Compelled  to  act,  as  he  said,  by  the  remiss- 
ness of  the  clergy,  who  connived  for  money  at  every  kind  of  debauchery, 
he  arrested  the  loose  women,  cut  off  their  hair,  and  carted  them 
through  the  streets  as  an  object  of  public  scorn.  But  the  moral  spirit 
of  the  new  movement,  though  infinitely  its  grander  side,  was  less  dan- 
gerous to  the  Church  than  its  open  repudiation  of  the  older  doctrines 
and  systems  of  Christendom.  Out  of  the  floating  mass  of  opinion 
which  bore  the  name  of  Lollardry  one  great  faith  gradually  evolved 
itself,  a  faith  in  the  sole  authority  of  the  Bible  as  a  source  of  religious 
truth.  The  translation  of  Wyclif  did  its  work.  Scripture,  complains 
a  canon  of  Leicester,  "  became  a  vulgar  thing,  and  more  open  to  lay 
folk  and  women  that  knew  how  to  read  than  it  is  wont  to  be  to  clerks 
themselves."  Consequences  which  Wyclif  had  perhaps  shrunk  from 
drawing  were  boldly  drawn  by  his  disciples  The  Church  was 
declared  to  have  become  apostate,  its  priesthood  was  denounced  as  no 
priesthood,  its  sacraments  as  idolatry.  It  was  in  vain  that  th^  clergy 
attempted  to  stifle  the  new  movement  by  their  old  weapon  of  perse- 
cution. The  jealousy  entertained  by  the  baronage  nnd  gentry  of  every 
pretention  of  the  Church  to  secular  power  f;>iled  its  efforts  to  make 
persecution  effective.  At  the  moment  of  the  Pe  isant  Revolt,  Courtenay 
procured  the  enactment  of  a  statute  which  commissioned  the  sheriffs  to 


26o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


seize  all  persons  convicted  before  the  bishops  of  preaching  heresy. 
But  the  statute  was  repealed  in  the  next  session,  and  the  Commons 
added  to  the  bitterness  of  the  blow  by  their  protest  that  they  considered 
it  "  in  nowise  their  interest  to  be  more  under  the  juiisdiction  of  the 
prelates  or  more  bound  by  them  than  their  ancestors  had  been  in 
times  past."  Heresy  indeed  was  still  a  felony  by  the  common  law,  and 
if  as  yet  we  meet  with  no  instances  of  the  punishment  of  heretics  by 
the  fire  it  was  because  the  threat  of  such  a  death  was  commonly 
followed  by  the  recantation  of  the  Lollard.  But  the  restriction  of  each 
bishop's  jurisdiction  within  the  li:nits  of  his  own  diocese  made  it  almost 
impossible  to  arrest  the  wandering  preachers  of  the  new  doctrine,  and 
the  civil  punishment — even  if  it  had  been  sanctioned  by  public  opinion 
— seems  to  have  long  fallen  into  desuetude.  Experience  proved  to  the 
prelates  that  few  sheriffs  would  arrest  on  the  mere  warrant  of  an  ecclesi- 
astical officer,  and  that  no  royal  court  would  issue  the  writ "  for  the 
burning  of  a  heretic"  on  a  bishop's  requisition.  But  powerless  as  the 
efforts  of  the  Church  were  for  purposes  of  repression,  they  were  effective 
in  rousing  the  temper  of  the  Lollards  into  a  bitter  fanaticism.  The 
Lollard  teachers  directed  their  fiercest  invectives  against  the  wealth 
and  secularity  of  the  great  Churchmen.  In  a  formal  petition  to  Parlia- 
ment they  mingled  denunciations  of  the  riches  of  the  clergy  with  an  open 
profession  of  disbelief  in  transubstantiation,  priesthood,  pilgrimages, 
and  image  worship,  and  a  demand,  which  illustrates  the  strange  medley 
of  opinions  which  jostled  together  in  the  new  movement,  that  war 
might  be  declared  unchristian,  and  that  trades  such  as  those  of  the 
goldsmith  or  the  armourer,  which  were  contrary  to  apostolical  poverty, 
might  be  banished  from  the  realm.  They  contended  (and  it  is  re- 
markable that  a  Parliament  of  the  next  reign  adopted  the  statement) 
that  from  the  superfluous  revenues  of  the  Church,  if  once  they  were 
applied  to  purposes  of  ^-eneral  utiHty,  the  King  might  maintain  fifteen 
earls,  fifteen  hundred  knights,  and  six  thousand  squires,  besides 
endowing  a  hundred  hospitals  for  the  relief  of  the  poor. 

The  distress  of  the  landowners,  the  general  disorganization  of  the 
country,  in  every  part  of  which  bands  of  marauders  were  openly 
defying  the  law,  the  panic  of  the  Church  and  of  society  at  large  as  the 
projects  of  the  Lollards  shaped  themselves  into  more  daring  and 
revolutionary  forms,  added  a  fresh  keenness  to  the  national  discontent 
at  the  languid  and  inefficient  prosecution  of  the  war.  The  junction  of 
the  French  and  Spanish  fleets  had  made  them  masters  of  the  seas ;  what 
fragments  were  left  of  Guienne  lay  at  their  mercy,  and  the  northern 
frontier  of  England  itself  was  flung  open  to  France  by  the  alliance  of  the 
Scots.  The  landing  of  a  French  force  in  the  Forth  roused  the  whole 
country  to  a  desperate  effort,  and  a  large  and  well-equipped  army  of 
Englishmen  penetrated  as  far  as  Edinburgh  in  the  vain  hope  of  bringing 
their  enemy  to  battle.     A  more  terrible  blow  had  been  stnick  in  the  re- 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


261 


duction  of  Ghent  by  the  French  troops,  and  the  loss  of  the  one  remaining 
market  for  English  commerce ;  while  the  forces  which  should  have  been 
employed  in  saving  it,  and  in  the  protection  of  the  English  shores  against 
the  threat  of  invasion,  were  squandered  by  John  of  Gaunt  on  the  Spanish 
frontier  in  pursuit  of  a  visionary  crown,  which  he  claimed  in  his  wife's 
right,  the  daughter  of  Pedro  the  Cruel.  The  enterprise  showed  that  the 
Duke  had  now  abandoned  the  hope  of  directing  affairs  at  home.  Robert 
de  Vere  and  Michael  de  la  Pole,  the  Earl  of  Suffolk,  had  stood  since 
the  suppression  of  the  revolt  at  the  head  of  the  royal  councils,  and  their 
steady  purpose  was  to  drive  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  from  power.  But 
the  departure  of  John  of  Gaunt  only  called  to  the  f  ont  his  brother  and 
his  son,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  the  Earl  of  Derby  ;  while  the 
lukewarm  prosecution  of  the  war,  the  profuse  expenditure  of  the 
Court,  and  above  all  the  manifest  will  of  the  King  to  free  himself  from 
Parliamentary  control,  estranged  the  Lower  House.  The  Parliament 
impeached  Suffolk  for  corruption,  and  appointed  a  commission  of 
regency  for  a  year,  of  which  Gloucester  was  the  leading  spirit.  The 
attempt  of  the  young  King  at  the  close  of  the  session  to  reverse  these 
measures  was  crushed  by  the  appearance  of  Gloucester  and  his  friends 
in  arms  ;  in  the  Merciless  Parliament  a  charge  of  high  treason  hurried 
into  exile  or  to  death  Suffolk  with  his  supporters,  the  five  judges  who 
had  pronounced  the  commission  to  be  in  itself  illegal  were  banished, 
and  four  members  of  the  royal  household  sent  to  the  block.  But 
hardly  a  year  had  passed  when  Richard  found  himself  strong  enough 
to  break  down  by  a  word  the  government  against  which  he  had  strug- 
gled so  vainly.  Entering  the  Council  he  suddenly  asked  his  uncle  to 
tell  him  how  old  he  was.  "  Your  Highness,''  replied  Gloucester,  "  is  in 
your  twenty-fourth  year."  "  Then  I  am  old  enough  to  manage  my  own 
affairs,"  said  Richard  coolly.  "  I  have  been  longer  under  guardianship 
than  any  ward  in  my  realm.  I  thank  you  for  your  past  services,  my 
lords,  but  I  need  them  no  longer." 

For  eight  years  the  King  wielded  the  power  which  thus  passed  quietly 
into  his  hands  with  singular  wisdom  and  good  fortune.  On  the  one  hand 
he  carried  his  peace  policy  into  effect  by  negotiations  with  France,  which 
brought  about  a  truce  renewed  year  by  year  till  it  was  prolonged  in 
1 394  for  four  years,  and  this  period  of  rest  was  lengthened  for  twenty-five 
years  by  a  subsequent  agreement  on  his  marriage  with  Isabella,  the 
daughter  of  Charles  the  Sixth.  On  the  other  he  announced  his  resolve 
to  rule  by  the  advice  of  his  Parliament,  submitted  to  its  censure,  and 
consulted  it  on  all  matters  of  importance.  In  a  short  campaign  he 
pacified  Ireland  ;  and  the  Lollard  troubles  which  had  threatened  during 
his  absence  died  away  on  his  return.  But  the  brilliant  abilities  which 
Richard  shared  with  the  rest  of  the  Plantagenets  were  marred  by  a  fitful 
inconstancy,  an  insane  pride,  and  a  craving  for  absolute  power.  His 
uncle,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  remained  at  the  head  of  the  opposition  ; 


262 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


while  the  King  had  secured  the  friendship  of  John  of  Gaunt,  and  of  his 
son  Henry,  Earl  of  Derby.  The  readiness  with  which  Richard  seized 
on  an  opportunity  of  provoking  a  contest  shows  the  bitterness  with 
which  during  the  long  years  that  had  passed  since  the  flight  of  Suffolk 
he  had  brooded  over  his  projects  of  vengeance.  The  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester and  the  Earls  of  Arundel  and  Warwick  were  arrested  on  a  charge 
of  conspiracy.  A  Parliament  packed  with  royal  partizans  was  used  to 
crush  Richard's  opponents.  The  pardons  granted  nine  years  before  were 
recalled  ;  the  commission  of  regency  declared  to  have  been  illegal,  and 
its  promoters  guilty  of  treason.  The  blow  was  ruthlessly  followed  up. 
The  Duke  was  saved  from  a  trial  by  a  sudden  death  in  his  prison  at 
Calais  ;  while  his  chief  supporter,  Arundel,  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, was  impeached  and  banished,  and  the  nobles  of  his  party  con- 
demned to  death  and  imprisonment.  The  measures  introduced 
into  the  Parliament  of  the  following  year  showed  that  besides 
his  projects  of  revenge  Richard's  designs  had  widened  into  a  definite 
plan  of  absolute  government.  It  declared  null  the  proceedings  of  the 
Parliament  of  1388.  He  was  freed  from  Parliamentary  control  by  the 
grant  to  him  of  a  subsidy  upon  wool  and  leather  for  the  term  of  his  life. 
His  next  step  got  rid  of  Parliament  itself.  A  committee  of  twelve 
peers  and  six  commoners  was  appointed  in  Parliament,  with  power  to 
continue  their  sittings  after  its  dissolution  and  to  "  examine  and  deter- 
mine all  matters  and  subjects  which  had  been  moved  in  the  presence 
of  the  King,  with  all  the  dependences  of  those  not  determined."  The 
aim  of  Richard  was  to  supersede  by  means  of  this  permanent  commis- 
sion the  body  from  which  it  originated :  he  at  once  employed  it  to 
determine  causes  and  carry  out  his  will,  and  forced  from  every  tenant 
of  the  Crown  an  oath  to  recognize  the  validity  of  its  acts  and  to  oppose 
any  attempts  to  alter  or  revoke  them.  With  such  an  engine  at  his 
command  the  King  was  absolute,  and  with  the  appearance  of  absolut- 
ism the  temper  of  his  reign  suddenly  changed.  A  system  of  forced 
loans,  the  sale  of  charters  of  pardon  to  Gloucester's  adherents,  the  out- 
lawry of  seven  counties  at  once  on  the  plea  that  they  had  supported 
his  enemies  and  must  purchase  pardon,  a  reckless  interference  with  the 
course  of  justice,  roused  into  new  life  the  social  and  political  discontent 
which  was  threatening  the  very  existence  of  the  Crown. 

By  his  good  government  and  by  his  evil  government  alike,  Richard 
had  succeeded  in  alienating  every  class  of  his  subjects.  He  had 
estranged  the  nobles  by  his  peace  policy,  the  landowners  by  his  refusal 
to  sanction  the  insane  measures  of  repression  they  directed  against 
the  labourer,  the  merchant  class  by  his  illegal  exactions,  and  the 
Church  by  his  want  of  zeal  against  the  Lollards.  Richard  himself 
had  no  sympathy  with  the  Lollards,  and  the  new  sect  as  a  social 
dant^cr  was  held  firmly  at  bay.  But  the  royal  officers  showed  little 
zeal  in  aiding  the  bishops  to  seize  or  punish  the  heretical  teachecs,  and 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


263 


Lollardry  found  favour  in  the  very  precincts  of  the  Court ;  it  was 
through  the  patronage  of  Richard's  first  queen,  Anne  of  Bohemia,  that 
the  tracts  and  Bible  of  the  Reformer  had  been  introduced  into  her 
native  land,  to  give  rise  to  the  remarkable  movement  which  found  its 
earliest  leaders  in  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague.  Richard  stood 
almost  alone  in  fact  in  his  realm,  but  even  this  accumulated  mass  of 
hatred  might  have  failed  to  crush  hini  had  not  an  act  of  jealousy  and 
tyranny  placed  an  able  and  unscrupulous  leader  at  the  head  of  the 
national  discontent.  Henry,  Earl  of  Derby  and  Duke  of  Hereford,  the 
eldest  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  though  he  had  taken  part  against  his  royal 
cousin  in  the  earlier  troubles  of  his  reign,  had  loyally  supported  him  in 
his  recent  measures  against  Gloucester.  No  sooner,  however,  were 
these  measures  successful  than  Richard  turned  his  new  power  against 
the  more  dangerous  House  of  Lancaster,  and  availing  himself  of  a 
quarrel  between  the  Dukes  of  Hereford  and  Norfolk,  in  which  each 
party  bandied  accusations  of  treason  against  the  other,  banished 
both  from  the  realm.  Banishment  was  soon  followed  by  the  annulling 
of  leave  which  had  been  given  to  Henry  to  receive  his  inheritance  on 
John  of  Gaunt's  death,  and  the  King  himself  seized  the  Lancastrian 
estates.  At  the  moment  when  he  had  thus  driven  his  cousin  to  despair, 
Richard  crossed  into  Ireland  to  complete  the  work  of  conquest  and 
organization  which  he  had  begun  there  ;  and  Archbishop  Arundel,  an 
exile  like  himself,  urged  the  Duke  to  take  advantage  of  the  King's 
absence  for  the  recovery  of  his  rights.  Eluding  the  vigilance  of  the 
French  Court,  at  which  he  had  taken  shelter,  Henry  landed  with  a 
handful  of  men  on  the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  where  he  was  at  once  joined 
by  the  Earls  of  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland,  the  heads  of  the 
great  houses  of  the  Percies  and  the  Nevilles  ;  and,  with  an  army 
which  grew  as  he  advanced,  entered  triumphantly  into  London.  The 
Duke  of  York,  whom  the  King  had  left  regent,  submitted,  and  his 
forces  joined  those  of  Henry  ;  and  when  Richard  landed  at  Milford 
Haven  he  found  the  kingdom  lost.  His  own  army  dispersed  as  it 
landed,  and  the  deserted  King  fled  in  disguise  to  North  Wales,  to  find 
a  second  force  which  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  had  gathered  for  his  sup- 
port already  disbanded.  Invited  to  a  conference  with  the  Duke  of 
Lancaster  at  Flint,  he  saw  himself  surrounded  by  the  rebel  forces.  "  I 
am  betrayed,"  he  cried,  as  the  view  of  his  enemies  burst  on  him  from 
the  hill  ;  "  there  are  pennons  and  banners  in  the  valley."  But  it  was  too 
late  for  retreat.  Richard  was  seized  and  brought  before  his  cousin.  **  I 
am  come  before  my  time,"  said  Lancaster,  "  but  I  will  show  you  the  rea- 
son. Your  people,  my  lord,  complain  that  for  the  space  of  twenty  years 
you  have  ruled  them  harshly  :  however,  if  it  please  God,  I  will  help  you 
to  rule  them  better."  "  Fair  cousin,"  replied  the  King,  "  since  it  pleases 
you,  it  pleases  me  well."  But  Henry's  designs  went  far  beyond  a  share 
in  the  government  of  the  realm.     The  Parliament  which  assembled  in 


264 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[CHAI*. 


Westminster  Hall  received  with  shouts  of  applause  a  formal  paper  in 
which  Richard  resigned  the  crown  as  one  incapable  of  reigning  and 
worthy  for  his  great  demerits  to  be  deposed.  The  resignation  was  con- 
firmed by  a  solemn  Act  of  Deposition.  The  coronation  oath  was  read. 
and  a  long  impeachment,  which  stated  t'  e  breach  of  the  promises 
made  in  it,  was  followed  by  a  solemn  vote  of  both  Houses  which 
removed  Richard  from  the  state  and  authority  of  King.  According 
to  the  strict  rules  of  hereditary  descent  as  construed  by  the  feudal 
lawyers,  by  an  assumed  analogy  with  the  descent  of  ordinary  estates, 
the  crown  would  now  have  passed  to  a  house  whic'i  had  at  an  earlier 
period  played  a  leading  part  in  the  revolutions  of  the  Edwards.  The 
great  grandson  of  the  Mortimer  who  brought  about  the  deposition 
of  Edward  the  Second  had  married  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  Lionel 
of  Clarence,  the  third  son  of  Edward  the  Third.  The  childlessness  of 
Richard  and  the  death  of  Edward's  second  son  without  issue  placed 
Edmund,  his  grandson  by  this  marriage,  first  among  the  claimants  of 
the  crown  ;  but  he  was  a  child  of  six  years  old,  the  strict  rule  of 
hereditary  descent  had  never  received  any  formal  recognition  in  the 
case  of  the  crown,  and  precedent  had  established  the  right  of 
Parliament  to  choose  in  such  a  case  a  successor  among  any  other 
members  of  the  Royal  House.  Only  one  such  successor  was  in  fact 
possible.  Rising  from  his  seat  and  crossing  himself,  Henry  of  Lancaster 
solemnly  challenged  the  crown  "as  that  I  am  descended  by  right  line 
of  blood  coming  from  the  good  lord  King  Henry  the  Third,  and  through 
that  right  that  God  of  His  grace  hath  sent  me  with  help  of  my  kin  and 
of  my  friends  to  recover  it :  the  which  realm  was  in  point  to  be  undone 
for  default  of  governance  and  undoing  of  good  laws."  Whatever  defects 
such  a  claim  mi^ht  present  were  more  than  covered  by  the  solemn 
recognition  of  Parliament.  The  two  Archbishops,  taking  the  new 
sovereign  by  the  band,  seated  him  upon  the  throne,  and  Henry  in 
emphatic  words  ratified  the  compact  between  himself  and  his  people. 
"  Sirs,"  he  said  to  the  prelates,  lords,  knights,  and  burgesses  gathered 
round  him,  "  I  thank  God  and  you,  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  all 
estates  of  the  land :  and  do  you  to  wit  it  is  not  my  will  that  any  man 
think  that  by  way  of  conquest  I  would  disinherit  any  of  his  heritage, 
franchises,  or  other  rights  that  he  ought  to  have,  nor  put  him  out  of 
the  goo'*  that  he  has  and  has  had  by  the  good  laws  and  customs  of 
the  realm,  except  those  persons  that  have  been  against  the  good 
purpose  and  the  common  profit  of  the  realm." 

Section  VI.— The  House  of  Iiancaster,  1399— 14Ail. 

{Authorities. — For  Henry  IV.  the  "  Annales  Henrici  Quarti"  and  Walsing- 
ham,  as  before.  For  his  successor,  the  *'  ActA  Henrici  Quinti  "  by  Titus  Livius, 
a  chaplain  in  the  royal  army  (English  Historical  Society)  ;  a  life  by  Elmham, 
Prior  of  Lemon,  simpler  in  s.ylc  but  identical  in  arranj^cment  ami  facts  with 


v.] 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


265 


the  former  work  ;  a  biography  by  Robert  Redman  ;  a  metrical  Chronicle  by 
Elmham  (published  in  Rolls  Series  in  "  Memorials  of  Henry  V.")  ;  and  the 
meagre  chronicles  of  Hardyng  and  Otterbourne.  Monstrelet  is  the  most 
important  French  authority  for  this  period  ;  for  the  Norman  campaigns  see 
M.  Puiseux's  "Siege  de  Rouen"  (Caen,  1867).  Lord  Brougham  has  given  a 
vigorous  and,  in  a  constitutional  point  of  view,  valuable  sketch  of  this  period 
in  his  "  History  of  England  under  the  House  of  Lancaster."] 

Raised  to  the  throne  by  a  Parliamentary  revolution  and  resting  its 
claims  on  a  Parliamentary  title,  the  House  of  Lancaster  was  precluded 
by  its  very  position  from  any  resumption  of  the  late  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence on  the  part  of  the  Crown  which  had  culminated  in  the  bold 
effort  of  Richard  the  Second.  During  no  period  of  our  early  history 
were  the  powers  of  the  two  Houses  so  frankly  recognized.  The  -tone 
of  Henry  the  Fourth  till  the  very  close  of  his  reign  is  that  of  humble 
compliance  with  the  prayers  of  the  Parliament,  and  even  his  imperious 
successor  shrank  almost  with  timidity  from  any  conflict  with  it.  But 
the  Crown  had  been  bought  by  other  pledges  less  noble  than  that  of 
constitutional  rule.  The  support  of  the  nobles  had  been  partly  won  by 
the  hope  of  a  renewal  of  the  fatal  war  with  France.  The  support  of  the 
Church  had  been  purchased  by  the  more  terrible  promise  of  persecution. 
The  last  pledge  was  speedily  redeemed.  In  the  first  Convocation  of 
his  reign  Henry  declared  himself  the  protector  of  the  Church  and 
ordered  the  prelates  to  take  measures  for  the  suppression  of  heresy  and 
of  the  wandering  preachers.  His  declaration  was  but  a  prelude  to  the 
Statute  of  Heresy  which  was  passed  at  the  opening  of  1401.  By  the 
provisions  of  this  infamous  Act  the  hindrances  which  had  till  now 
neutralized  the  efforts  of  the  bishops  were  taken  away.  Not  only  were 
they  permitted  to  arrest  all  preachers  of  heresy,  all  schoolmasters  in- 
fected with  heretical  teaching,  all  owners  and  writers  of  heretical  books, 
and  to  imprison  them,  even  if  they  recanted,  at  the  King's  pleasure,  but 
a  refusal  to  abjure  or  a  relapse  after  abjuration  enabled  them  to  hand 
over  the  heretic  to  the  civil  officers,  and  by  these—  so  ran  the  first  legal 
enactment  of  religious  bloodshed  which  defiled  our  Statute-book — he 
was  to  be  burned  on  a  high  place  before  the  people.  The  statute  was 
hardly  passed  when  William  Sautre,  a  parish  priest  at  Lynn,  became 
its  first  victim.  Nine  years  later  a  layman,  John  Badby,  was  committed 
to  the  flames  in  the  presence  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  for  a  denial  of 
transubstantiation.  The  groans  of  the  sufferer  were  taken  for  a  re- 
cantation, and  the  Prince  ordered  the  fire  to  be  plucked  away  ;  but  the 
offer  of  life  and  of  a  pension  failed  to  break  the  spirit  of  the  Lollard, 
and  he  was  hurled  back  to  his  doom.  The  enmity  of  France,  and 
the  fierce  resentment  of  the  Reformers,  added  danger  to  the  incessant 
revolts  which  threatened  the  throne  of  Henry.  The  mere  maintenance 
of  his  power  through  the  troubled  years  of  his  reign  is  the  best  proof 
of  the  King's  ability.  A  conspiracy  of  Richard's  kinsmen,  the  Earls 
of  Huntingdon  and  Kent,  was  suppressed,  and  was  at  once  followed  by 


Sec  VI. 

The 

House  or 
Lancaster 

1399 

TO 

The 
Suppres- 
sion of 
Iiollardry 


266 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
House  of 
Lancaster 

1390 

TO 

142S 

1403 


[400 


1407 


1410 


Dtath  of 
Henry  /T. 

I413 


Richard's  death  in  prison.  The  Percies  broke  out  in  rebellion,  and 
Hotspur,  the  son  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  leagued  himself 
with  the  Scots  and  with  the  insurgents  of  Wales.  He  was  defeated 
and  slain  in  an  obstinate  battle  near  Shrewsbury  ;  but  two  years  Fater 
his  father  rose  in  a  fresh  insurrection,  and  though  the  seizure  and 
execution  of  his  fellow-conspirator  Scrope,  the  Archbishop  of  York, 
drove  Northumberland  over  the  border,  he  remained  till  his  death  in  a 
later  inroad  a  peril  to  the  throne.  Encouraged  meanwhile  by  the 
weakness  of  England,  Wales,  so  long  tranquil,  shook  off  the  yoke  of 
her  conquerors,  and  the  whole  country  rose  at  the  call  of  Owen 
Glyndwr  or  Glendower,  a  descendant  of  its  native  princes.  Owen 
left  the  invaders,  as  of  old,  to  contend  with  famine  and  the  mountain 
storms  ;  but  they  had  no  sooner  retired  than  he  sallied  out  from  his 
inaccessible  fastnesses  to  win  victories  which  were  followed  by  the 
adhesion  of  all  North  Wales  and  great  part  of  the  South  to  his  cause, 
while  a  force  of  French  auxiliaries  was  despatched  by  Charles  of 
France  to  his  aid.  It  was  only  the  restoration  of  peace  in  England 
which  enabled  Henry  to  roll  back  the  tide  of  Glyndwr's  success.  By 
slow  and  deliberate  campaigns  continued  through  four  years  the 
Prince  of  Wales  wrested  from  him  the  South  ;  his  subjects  in  the 
North,  discouraged  by  successive  defeats,  gradually  fell  away  from 
his  standard ;  and  the  repulse  of  a  bold  descent  upon  Shropshire 
drove  Owen  at  last  to  take  refuge  among  the  mountains  of  Snowdon, 
where  he  seems  to  have  maintained  the  contest,  single-handed,  till  his 
death.  With  the  close  of  ihe  Welsh  rising  the  Lancastrian  throne  felt 
itself  secure  from  without,  but  the  danger  from  the  Lollards  remained 
as  great  as  ever  within.  The  new  statute  and  its  terrible  penalties 
were  boldly  defied.  The  death  of  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  in  the  first  of 
the  revolts  against  Henry,  though  his  gory  head  was  welcomed  into 
London  by  a  procession  of  abbots  and  bishops  who  went  out  singing 
psalms  of  thanksj;iving  to  meet  it,  only  transferred  the  leadership  of 
the  party  to  one  of  the  foremost  warriors  of  the  time.  Sir  John  Old- 
castle,  whose  marriage  raised  him  to  the  title  of  Lord  Cobham,  threw 
open  his  castle  of  Cowling  to  the  Lollards  as  their  head-quarters, 
sheltered  their  preachers,  and  set  the  prohibitions  and  sentences  of 
the  bishops  at  defiance.  When  Henry  the  Fourth  died  in  1413 
worn  out  with  the  troubles  of  his  reign,  his  successor  was  forced 
to  deal  with  this  formidable  question.  The  bishops  demanded  that 
Cobham  should  be  brought  to  justice,  and  though  the  King  pleaded 
for  delay  in  the  case  of  one  who  was  so  close  a  Iriend,  his  open  defiance 
at  last  forced  him  to  act.  A  body  of  royal  troops  arrested  Lord  Cobham 
and  carried  him  to  the  Tower.  His  esc»pe  was  the  signal  for  a  vast 
revolt.  A  secret  order  summoned  the  Lollards  to  assemble  in  St. 
Giles's  fields  outside  London.  We  gather,  if  not  the  real  aims  of  the 
rising,  at  least  the  terror  that  it  caused,  from  Henry's  statement  fhat 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


267 


its  purpose  was  "  to  destroy  himself,  his  brothers,  and  several  of  the 
spiritual  and  temporal  lords  ; "  but  the  vigilance  of  the  young  King 
prevented  the  junction  of  the  Lollards  of  London  with  their  friends  in 
the  country,  and  those  who  appeared  at  the  place  of  meeting  were 
dispersed  by  the  royal  forces.  On  the  failure  of  the  rising  the  law  was 
rendered  more  rigorous.  Magistrates  were  directed  to  arrest  all 
Lollards  and  hand  them  over  to  the  bishops  ;  a  conviction  of  heresy 
was  made  to  entail  forfeiture  of  blood  and  of  estate  ;  and  thirty-nine 
prominent  Lollards  were  brought  to  execution.  Cobham  escaped,  and 
for  four  years  longer  strove  to  rouse  revolt  after  revolt.  He  was  at 
last  captured  on  the  Welsh  border  and  burned  as  a  heretic. 

With  the  death  of  Oldcastle  the  political  activity  of  Lollardry 
came  suddenly  to  an  end,  while  the  steady  persecution  of  the 
bishops,  if  it  failed  to  extinguish  it  as  a  religious  movement,  suc- 
ceeded in  destroying  the  vigour  and  energy  which  it  had  shown  at  the 
outset  of  its  career.  But  the  House  of  Lancaster  had,  as  yet,  only 
partially  accomplished  the  aims  with  which  it  mounted  the  throne.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  nobles,  one  of  Richard' s  crimes  had  been  his  policy  of 
peace,  and  the  aid  which  they  gave  to  the  revolution  sprang  partly  from 
their  hope  of  a  renewal  of  the  war.  The  energy  of  the  war-party  was 
seconded  by  the  temper  of  the  nation  at  large,  already  forgetful  of  the 
sufferings  of  the  past  struggle  and  longing  only  to  wipe  out  its  shame. 
The  internal  calamities  of  France  offered  at  this  momeni  a  tempting 
opportunity  for  aggression.  Its  King,  Charles  the  Sixth,  was  a  maniac, 
while  its  princes  and  nobles  were  divided  into  two  great  parties,  the 
one  headed  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  bearing  his  name,  the  other 
by  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  bearing  the  title  of  Armagnacs.  The 
struggle  had  been  jealously  watched  by  Henry  the  Fourth,  but  his 
attempt  to  feed  it  by  pushing  an  English  force  into  France  at  once 
united  the  combatants.  Their  strife,  however,  recommenced  more 
bitterly  than  ever  when  the  claim  of  the  French  crown  by  Henry  the 
Fifth  on  his  accession  declared  his  purpose  of  renewing  the  war.  No 
claim  could  have  been  more  utterly  baseless,  for  the  Parliamentary 
title  by  which  the  House  of  Lancaster  held  England  could  give  it  no 
right  over  France,  and  the  strict  law  of  hereditary  succession  which 
Edward  asserted  could  be  pleaded,  if  pleaded  at  all,  only  by  the  House 
of  Mortimer.  Not  only  the  claim,  indeed,  but  the  very  nature  of  the 
war  itself  was  wholly  different  from  that  of  Edward  the  Third.  Edward 
had  been  forced  into  the  struggle  against  his  will  by  the  ceaseless 
attacks  of  France,  and  his  claim  of  the  crown  was  a  mere  afterthought 
to  secure  the  alliance  of  Flanders.  The  war  of  Henry,  on  the  other 
hand,  though  in  form  a  renewal  of  the  earlier  struggle  on  the  expira- 
tion of  the  truce  made  by  Richard  the  Second,  was  in  fact  a  wanton 
aggression  on  the  part  of  a  nation  tempted  by  the  helplessness  of  its 
opponent  and  galled  by  the  memory  of  former  defeat.     Its  one  excuse 


268 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


indeed  lay  in  the  attacks  which  France  for  the  past  fifteen  years  had 
directed  against  the  Lancastrian  throne,  its  encouragement  of  every 
enemy  without  and  of  every  traitor  within.  In  the  summer  of  141 5  the 
King  sailed  for  the  Norman  coast,  and  his  first  exploit  was  the  capture 
of  Harfleur.  Dysentery  made  havoc  in  his  ranks  during  the  siege,  and 
it  was  with  a  mere  handful  of  men  that  he  resolved  to  insult  the  enemy 
by  a  daring  march,  like  that  of  Edward,  upon  Calais.  The  discord, 
however,  on  which  he  probably  reckoned  for  security,  vanished 
before  the  actual  appearance  of  the  invaders  in  the  heart  of  France  ; 
and  when  his  weary  and  half-starved  force  succeeded  in  crossing  the 
Somme,  it  found  sixty  thousand  Frenchmen  encamped  on  the  field  of 
Agincourt  right  across  its  line  of  march.  Their  position,  flanked  on 
either  side  by  woods,  but  with  a  front  so  narrow  that  the  dense  masses 
were  drawn  up  thirty  men  deep,  was  strong  for  purposes  of  defence  but 
ill  suited  for  attack  ;  and  the  French  leaders,  warned  by  the  experience 
of  Crdcy  and  Poitiers,  resolved  to  await  the  English  advance.  Henry, 
on  the  other  hand,  had  no  choice  between  attack  and  unconditional 
surrender.  His  troops  were  starving,  and  the  way  to  Calais  lay  across 
the  French  army.  But  the  King's  courage  rose  with  the  peril.  A 
knight  in  his  train  wished  that  the  thousands  of  stout  warriors  lying 
idle  that  night  in  England  had  been  standing  in  his  ranks.  Henry 
answered  with  a  burst  of  scorn.  "  I  would  not  have  a  single  man 
more,"  he  replied.  "  If  God  give  us  the  victory,  it  will  be  plain  that 
we  owe  it  to  His  grace.  If  not,  the  fewer  we  are,  the  less  loss  for 
England."  Starving  and  sick  as  were  the  handful  of  men  whom  he 
led,  they  shared  the  spirit  of  their  leader.  As  the  chill  rainy  night 
passed  away,  his  archers  bared  their  arms  and  breasts  to  give  fair  play 
to  "  the  crooked  stick  and  the  grey  goose  wing,"  but  for  which — as  the 
rime  ran — "  England  were  but  a  fling,"  and  with  a  great  shout  sprang 
forward  to  the  attack.  The  sight  of  their  advance  roused  the  fiery 
pride  of  the  French  ;  the  wise  resolve  of  their  leaders  was  forgotten, 
and  the  dense  mass  of  men-at-arms  plunged  heavily  forward  through 
miry  ground  on  the  English  front.  But  at  the  first  sign  of  movement 
Henry  had  halted  his  line,  and  fixing  in  the  ground  the  sharpened 
stakes  with  which  each  man  was  furnished,  his  archers  poured  their 
fatal  arrow  flights  into  the  hostile  ranks.  The  carnage  was  terrible, 
but  the  desperate  charges  of  the  French  knighthood  at  last  drove  the 
English  archers  to  the  neighbouring  woods,  from  which  they  were 
still  able  to  pour  their  shot  into  the  enemy's  flanks,  while  Henry,  with 
the  men-at-arms  around  him,  flung  himself  on  the  French  line.  In  the 
terrible  struggle  which  followed  the  King  bore  otTthe  palm  of  bravery: 
he  was  felled  once  by  a  blow  from  a  French  mace,  and  the  crown  on 
his  helmet  was  cleft  by  the  sword  of  the  Duke  of  Alen^on  ;  but  the 
enemy  was  at  last  broken,  and  the  defeat  of  the  main  body  of  the  French 
was  followed  at  once  by  the  rout  of  their  reserve.     The  triumph  was 


THE  HUNDRED  YEARS'  WAR. 


269 


more  complete,  as  the  odds  were  even  greater,  than  at  Crdcy.  Eleven 
thousand  Frenchmen  lay  dead  on  the  field,  and  more  than  a  hundred 
princes  and  great  lords  were  among  the  fallen. 

The  immediate  result  of  the  battle  of  Agincourt  was  small,  for  the 
English  army  was  too  exhausted  for  pursuit,  and  it  made  its  way  to 
Calais  only  to  return  to  England.  The  war  was  limited  to  a  contest 
for  the  command  of  the  Channel,  till  the  increasing  bitterness  of  the 
strife  between  the  Burgundians  and  Armagnacs  encouraged  Henry  to 
resume  his  attempt  to  recover  Normandy.  Whatever  may  have  been 
his  aim  in  this  enterprise— whether  it  wwe,  as  has  been  suggested,  to 
provide  a  refuge  for  his  house,  should  its  power  be  broken  in  England, 
or  simply  to  acquire  a  command  of  the  seas — the  patience  and  skill 
with  which  his  object  was  accomplished  raise  him  high  in  the  rank 
of  military  leaders.  Disembarking  with  an  army  of  40,000  men,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Touque,  he  stormed  Caen,  received  the  surrender  of 
Bayeux,  reduced  Alen9on  and  Falaise,  and  detaching  his  brother  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester  to  occupy  the  Cotentin,  made  himself  master  of 
Avranches  and  Domfront.  With  Lower  Normandy  wholly  in  his 
hands,  he  advanced  upon  Evreux,  captured  Louviers,  and,  seizing  Pont- 
de-l'Arche,  threw  his  troops  across  the  Seine.  The  end  of  these 
masterly  movements  was  now  revealed.  Rouen  was  at  this  time 
the  largest  and  wealthiest  of  the  towns  of  France  ;  its  walls  were 
defended  by  a  powerful  artillery ;  Alan  Blanchard,  a  brave  and 
resolute  patriot,  infused  the  fire  of  his  own  temper  into  the  vast 
population  ;  and  the  garrison,  already  strong,  was  backed  by  fifteen 
thousand  citizens  in  arms.  But  the  genius  of  Henry  was  more  than 
equal  to  the  difficulties  with  which  he  had  to  deal.  He  had  secured 
himself  from  an  attack  on  his  rear  by  the  reduction  of  Lower  Nor- 
mandy, his  earlier  occupation  of  Harfleur  severed  the  town  from  the 
sea,  and  his  conquest  of  Pont-de-l'Arche  cut  it  off  from  relief  on 
the  side  of  Paris.  Slowly  but  steadily  the  King  drew  his  lines  of 
investment  round  the  doomed  city  ;  a  flotilla  was  brought  up  from 
Harfleur,  a  bridge  of  boats  thrown  over  the  Seine  above  the  town, 
the  deep  trenches  of  the  besiegers  protected  by  posts,  and  the  des- 
perate sallies  of  the  garrison  stubbornly  beaten  back.  For  six  months 
Rouen  held  resolutely  out,  but  famine  told  fast  on  the  vast  throng 
of  country  folk  who  had  taken  refuge  within  its  walls.  Twelve 
thousand  of  these  were  at  last  thrust  out  of  the  city  gates,  but  the  cold 
policy  of  the  conqueror  refused  them  passage,  and  they  perished 
between  the  trenches  and  the  walls.  In  the  hour  of  their  agony 
women  gave  birth  to  infants,  but  even  the  new-born  babes  which 
were  drawn  up  in  baskets  to  receive  baptism  were  lowered  again 
to  die  on  their  mothers'  breasts.  It  was  little  better  within  the  town 
itself.  As  winter  drew  on  one-half  of  the  population  wasted  away. 
"War,"  said  the  terrible  King,  "has  three  handmaidens  ever  waiting 


270 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


on  her,  Fire,  Blood,  and  Famine,  and  I  have  chosen  the  meekest  maid 
of  the  three."  But  his  demand  of  unconditional  surrender  nerved  the 
citizens  to  a  resolve  of  despair  ;  they  determined  to  fire  the  city  and 
fling  themselves  in  a  mass  on  the  English  lines  ;  and  Henry,  fearful 
lest  his  prize  should  escape  him  at  the  last,  was  driven  to  offer  terms. 
Those  who  rejected  a  foreign  yoke  were  suffered  to  leave  the  city,  but 
his  vengeance  reserved  its  victim  in  Alan  Blanchard,  and  the  brave 
patriot  was  at  Henry's  orders  put  to  death  in  cold  blood. 

A  few  sieges  completed  the  reduction  of  Normandy.  The  Kingfs 
designs  were  still  limited  to  the  acquisition  of  that  province  ;  and 
pausing  in  his  career  of  conquest,  he  strove  to  win  its  loyalty  by  a 
remission  of  taxation  and  a  redress  of  grievances,  and  to  seal  its 
posses  ion  by  a  formal  peace  with  the  French  Crown.  The  confer- 
ences, however,  which  were  held  for  this  purpose  at  Pontoise  failed 
through  the  temporary  reconciliation  of  the  French  factions,  while 
the  length  and  expense  of  the  war  began  to  rouse  remonstrance  and 
discontent  at  home.  The  King's  difficulties  were  at  their  height 
when  the  assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  at  Montereau,  in 
the  very  presence  of  the  Dauphin  with  whom  he  had  come  to  hold 
conference,  rekindled  the  fires  of  civil  strife.  1  he  whole  Burgundian 
party,  with  the  new  Duke,  Philip  the  Good,  at  its  head,  flung  itself  in 
a  wild  thirst  for  revenge  into  Henry's  hands.  The  mad  King,  Charles 
the  Sixth,  with  his  Queen  and  daughters,  were  in  Philip's  power  ;  and 
in  his  resolve  to  exclude  the  Dauphin  from  the  throne  the  Duke 
stooped  to  buy  English  aid  by  giving  Catharine,  the  eldest  of  the 
French  princesses,  in  marriage  to  Henry,  by  conferring  on  him  the 
Regency  during  the  life  of  Charles,  and  by  recognizing  his  succession  to 
the  crown  at  that  sovereign's  death.  The  treaty  was  solemnly  ratified 
by  Charles  himself  in  a  conference  at  Troyes,  and  Henry,  who  in  his 
new  capacity  of  Regent  had  undertaken  to  conquer  in  the  name  of 
his  father-in-law  the  territory  held  by  the  Dauphin,  reduced  the  towns 
of  the  Upper  Seine  and  entered  Paris  in  triumph  side  by  side  with 
the  King.  The  States-General  of  the  realm  were  solemnly  convened 
to  the  capital ;  and  strange  as  the  provisions  of  the  Treaty  of  Troyes 
must  have  seemed,  they  were  confirmed  without  a  murmur,  and 
Henry  was  formally  recognized  as  the  future  sovereign  of  France.  A 
defeat  of  his  brother  Clarence  in  Anjou  called  him  back  to  the  war. 
His  reappearance  in  the  field  was  marked  by  the  capture  of  Dreux, 
and  a  repulse  before  Orleans  was  redeemed  by  his  success  in  the 
long  and  obstinate  siege  of  Meaux.  At  no  time  had  the  fortunes  of 
Henry  reached  a  higher  pitch  than  at  the  moment  when  he  felt  the 
touch  of  death,  liut  the  rapidity  of  his  disease  baflfled  the  skill  of 
physicians,  and  with  a  strangely  characteristic  regret  that  he  had  not 
lived  to  achieve  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem,  the  great  conqueror 
passed  away. 


vi.l 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY, 


271 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 

1422-1540. 
Section  I.— Joan  of  Arc,  1422—1451. 

[Authorities. — The  **  Wars  of  the  English  in  PVance,"  and  Blondel'^  work 
"  De  Reductione  Normanniae,"  both  published  by  the  Master  of  the  Rolls, 
give  ample  information  on  the  military  side  of  this  period.  Monstrelet 
remains  our  chief  source  of  knowledge  on  the  French  side.  The  "  Proces  de 
Jeanne  d'Arc"  (published  by  the  Societe  de  I'Histoire  de  France)  is  the  only 
real  authority  for  her  history.  For  English  affairs  we  are  reduced  to  the 
meagre  accounts  of  W  illiam  of  Worcester,  of  the  Continuator  of  the  Crow  land 
Chronicle,  and  of  Fabyan.  Fabyan,  a  London  alderman  with  a  strong  bias  in 
favour  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  is  useful  for  London  only.  The  Continu- 
ator is  one  of  the  best  of  his  class,  and  though  connected  with  the  House  of 
York,  the  date  of  his  work,  which  appeared  soon  after  Bosworth  Field,  makes 
him  fairly  impartial ;  but  he  is  sketchy  and  deficient  in  actual  facts.  The  more 
copious  narrative  of  Polydore  Vergil  is  far  superior  to  these  in  literary  ability, 
but  of  later  date  and  strongly  Lancastrian  in  tone.  The  Rolls  of  Parliament 
and  Rymer's  "  Fcedera"  are  of  high  value.  Among  modern  writers  M,  Michelet, 
in  his  "History  of  France  "  (vol,  v.),  has  given  a  portrait  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans 
at  once  exact  and  full  of  a  tender  poetry.  Lord  Brougham  ("  Englai  d  under 
the  House  of  Lancaster")  is  still  useful  on  constitutional  points.] 

[Dr.  Stubbs'  "Constitutional  History,"  vol.  iii.,  published  since  these 
pages  were  written,  illustrates  this  period, — Ed.^ 

At  the  moment  when  death  so  suddenly  stayed  his  course  the 
greatness  of  Henry  the  Fifth  had  reached  its  highest  point.  He 
had  won  the  Church  by  his  orthodoxy,  the  nobles  by  his  warlike 
prowess,  the  whole  people  by  his  revival  of  the  glories  of  Crd9y  and 
Poitiers.  In  France  his  cool  policy  had  transformed  him  from  a 
foreign  conqueror  into  a  legal  heir  to  the  crown  ;  his  title  of  Regent 
and  of  successor  to  the  throne  rested  on  the  formal  recognition  of  the 
estates  of  the  realm  ;  and  his  progress  to  the  very  moment  of  his  death 
promised  a  speedy  mastery  of  the  whole  country. 

But  the  glory  of  Agincourt  and  the  genius  of  Henrry  the  Fifth  hardly 
veiled  at  the  close  of  his  reign  the  weakness  and  humiliation  of  the 
Crown  when  the  succession  passed  to  his  infant  son.  The  long  mino- 
rity of  Henry  the  Sixth,  who  was  a  boy  of  nine  months  old  at  his 
father's  death,  as  well  as  the  personal  weakness  which  marked  his 
after- rule,  left  the  House  of  Lancaster  at  the  mercy  of  the  Parliament, 
But  the  Parliament  was  fast  dying  down  into  a  mere  representation 


272 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


of  the  baronage  and  the  great  landowners.  The  Commons  indeed 
retained  the  right  of  granting  and  controlling  subsidies,  of  joining 
in  all  statutory  enactments,  and  of  impeaching  ministers.  But  the 
Lower  House  was  ceasing  to  be  a  real  representative  of  the  "  Com- 
mons "  whose  name  it  bore.  The  borough  franchise  was  suffering 
from  the  general  tendency  to  restriction  and  privilege  which  in  the 
bulk  of  towns  was  soon  to  reduce  it  to  a  mere  mockery.  Up  to  this 
time  all  freemen  settling  in  a  borough  and  paying  their  dues  to  it 
became  by  the  mere  settlement  its  burgesses  ;  but  from  the  reign  of 
Henry  the  Sixth  this  largeness  of  borough  life  was  roughly  curtailed. 
The  trade  companies  which  vindicated  civic  freedom  from  the  tyranny 
of  the  older  merchant  gilds  themselves  tended  to  become  a  narrow  and 
exclusive  oligarchy.  Most  of  the  boroughs  had  by  this  time  acquired 
civic  property,  and  it  was  with  the  aim  of  securing  their  own  enjoyment 
of  this  against  any  share  of  it  by  "strangers"  that  the  existing  burgesses, 
for  the  most  part,  procured  charters  of  incorporation  from  the  Crown, 
which  turned  them  into  a  close  body,  and  excluded  from  their  number 
all  who  were  not  burgesses  by  birth  or  who  failed  henceforth  to  purchase 
their  right  of  entrance  by  a  long  apprenticeship.  In  addition  to  this 
narrowing  of  the  burgess-body,  the  internal  government  of  the  b  troughs 
had  almost  universally  passed,  since  the  failure  of  the  Communal  move- 
ment in  the  thirteenth  century,  from  the  free  gathering  of  the  citizens 
in  borough-mote  into  the  hands  of  Common  Councils,  either  self- 
elected  or  elected  by  the  wealthier  burgesses  ;  and  it  was  to  these 
councils,  or  to  a  yet  more  restricted  number  of  "  select  men  "  belonging 
to  them,  that  clauses  in  the  new  charters  generally  confined  the  right 
of  choosing  their  representatives  in  -Parliament.  It  was  with  this 
restriction  th^t  the  long  process  of  degradation  began  which  ended 
in  reducing  the  representation  of  our  boroughs  to  a  mere  mockery. 
Great  nobles,  neighbouring  landowners,  the  Crown  itself  seized  on 
the  boroughs  as  their  prey,  and  dictated  the  choice  of  their  repre- 
sentatives. Corruption  did  whatever  force  failed  to  do  ;  and  from 
the  Wars  of  the  Roses  to  the  days  of  Pitt  the  voice  of  the  people 
had  to  be  looked  for,  not  in  the  members  for  the  towns,  but  in 
the  knights  of  the  counties.  The  restriction  of  t'le  county  franchise 
on  the  other  hand  was  the  direct  work  of  the  Parliament  'itself. 
Economic  changes  were  fast  widening  the  franchise  in  the.  counties. 
The  number  of  freeholders  increased  with  the  subdivision  of  estates 
and  the  social  changes  which  we  have  already  examined,  while  the 
increase  of  independence  was  marked  by  the  "riots  and  divisions 
between  the  gentlemen  and  other  people,"  which  the  statesmen  of 
the  day  attributed  to  the  excessive  number  of  the  voters.  In  many 
counties  the  power  of  the  great  lords  undoubtedly  enabled  them 
to  control  elections  through  the  number  of  their  retainers.  In  Cade's 
revolt  the  Kentishmen  complained  that  "the  people  of  the  shire  are 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


273 


not  allowed  to  have  their  free  elections  in  the  choosing  of  knights  for 
the  shire,  but  letters  have  been  sent  from  divers  estates  to  the  great 
nobles  of  the  county,  the  which  enforceth  their  tenants  and  other 
people  by  force  to  choose  other  persons  than  the  common  will  is."  It 
was  primarily  to  check  this  abuse  that  a  statute  of  the  reign  of  Henry 
the  Sixth  restricted. in  1430  the  right  of  voting  in  shires  to  freeholders 
holding  land  worth  forty  shillings  (a  sum  equal  in  our  money  to  at 
least  twenty  pounds)  a  year,  and  representing  a  far  higher  proportional 
income  at  the  present  time.  This  "  great  disfranchising  statute,"  as  it 
has  been  justly  termed,  was  aimed,  in  its  own  words,  against  voters 
"  of  no  value,  whereof  every  of  them  pretended  to  have  a  voice 
equivalent  with  the  more  worthy  knights  and  esquires  dwelling  within 
the  same  counties."  But  in  actual  wor.ing  the  statute  was  interpreted 
in  a  far  more  destructive  fashion  than  its  words  were  intended  to 
convey.  Up  to  this  time  all  suitors  who  found  themselves  at  the 
Sheriff's  Court  had  voted  without  question  for  the  Knight  of  the  Shire, 
but  by  the  new  statute  the  great  bulk  of  the  existing  voters,  every 
leaseholder  and  every  copyholder,  found  themselves  implicitly  de- 
prived of  their  franchise.  A  later  statute,  which  seems,  however,  to 
have  had  no  practical  effect,  showed  the  aristocratic  temper,  as  well  as 
the  social  changes  against  which  it  struggled,  in  its  requirement  that 
every  Knight  of  the  Shire  should  be  "  a  gentleman  born." 

The  death  of  Henry  the  Fifth  revealed  in  its  bare  reality  the  secret 
of  power.  The  whole  of  the  royal  authority  vested  without  a  struggle 
in  a  council  composed  of  great  lords  and  Churchmen  representing  the 
baronage,  at  whose  head  stood  Henry  Beaufort,  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
a  legitimated  son  of  John  of  Gaunt  by  his  mistress  Catharine  Swyn- 
ford.  In  the  presence  of  Lollardry  and  socialism,  the  Church  had 
at  this  time  ceased  to  be  a  great  political  power  and  sunk  into  a  mere 
section  of  the  landed  aristocracy.  Its  one  aim  was  to  preserve  its 
enormous  wealth,  which  was  threatened  at  once  by  the  hatred  of  the 
heretics  and  by  the  greed  of  the  nobles.  Lollardry  still  lived,  in  spite 
of  the  steady  persecution,  as  a  spirit  of  religious  and  moral  revolt ;  and 
nine  years  after  the  young  King's  accession  we  find  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  traversing  England  with  men-at-arms  for  the  purpose  of 
repressing  its  risings  and  hindering  the  circulation  of  its  invectives 
against  the  clergy.  The  violence  and  anarchy  which  had  always  clung 
like  a  taint  to  the  baronage  had  received  a  new  impulse  from  the  war 
with  France.  Long  before  the  struggle  was  over  it  had  done  its  fatal 
work  on  the  mood  of  the  English  noble.  His  aim  had  become  little 
more  than  a  lust  for  gold,  a  longing  after  plunder,  after  the  pillage  of 
farms,  the  sack  of  cities,  the  ransom  of  captives.  So  intense  was  the 
greed  of  gain  that  only  a  threat  of  death  could  keep  the  fighting  men 
in  their  ranks,  and  the  results  of  victory  after  victory  were  lost  by  the 
anxiety  of  the  conquerors  to  deposit  their  plunder  and  captives  safely 


274 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


at  home.  The  moment  the  firm  hand  of  great  leaders  such  as  Henry 
the  Fifth  or  Bedford  was  r^noved,the  war  died  down  into  mere  massacre 
and  brigandage.  "If  God  had  been  a  captain  now-a-days,"  exclaimed 
a  French  general,  "He  would  have  turned  marauder."  The  nobles 
were  as  lawless  and  dissolute  at  home  as  they  were  greedy  and  cruel 
abroad.  The  Parliaments,  which  became  mere  sittings  of  their  retainers 
and  partizans,  were  like  armed  camps  to  which  the  great  lords  came 
with  small  armies  at  their  backs.  That  of  1426  received  its  name  of 
the  "  Club  Parliament,"  from  the  fact  that  when  arms  were  prohibited 
the  retainers  of  the  barons  appeared  with  clubs  on  their  shoulders. 
When  clubs  were  forbidden,  they  hid  stones  and  balls  of  lead  in  their 
clothes.  The  dissoluteness  against  which  Lollardry  had  raised  its  g^eat 
moral  protest  reigned  now  without  a  check.  A  gleam  of  intellectual 
light  was  breaking  on  the  darkness  of  the  time,  but  only  to  reveal  its 
hideous  combination  of  mental  energy  with  moral  worthlessness.  The 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  whose  love  of  letters  was  shown  in  the  noble 
library  he  collected,  was  the  most  selfish  and  profligate  prince  of  his 
day.  The  Earl  of  Worcester,  a  patron  of  Caxton,  and  one  of  the 
earliest  scholars  of  the  Revival  of  Letters,  earned  his  title  of 
"butcher"  by  the  cruelty  which  raised  him  to  a  pre-eminence  of 
infamy  among  the  bloodstained  leaders  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses. 
All  spiritual  life  seemed  to  have  been  trodden  out  in  the  ruin  of  the 
Lollards.  Never  had  English  literature  fallen  so  low.  A  few  tedious 
moralists  alone  preserved  the  name  of  poetry.  History  died  down 
into  the  barest  and  most  worthless  fragments  and  annals.  Even  the 
religious  enthusiasm  of  the  people  seemed  to  have  spent  itself,  or  to 
have  been  crushed  out  by  the  bishops'  courts.  The  one  belief  of  the 
time  was  in  sorcery  and  magic.  Eleanor  Cobham,  the  wife  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  was  convicted  of  having  practised  magic  against 
the  King's  life  with  a  priest,  and  condemned  to  do  penance  in  the 
streets  of  London.  The  mist  which  wrapped  the  battle-field  of  Bamet 
was  attributed  to  the  incantations  of  Friar  Bungay.  The  one  pure 
figure  which  rises  out  of  the  greed,  the  lust,  the  selfishness,  and 
unbelief  of  the  time,  the  figure  of  Joan  of  Arc,  was  regarded  by  the 
doctors  and  priests  who  judged  her  as  that  of  a  sorceress. 

Jeanne  d  Arc  was  the  child  of  a  labourer  of  Domr^my,  a  little 
village  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Vaucouleurson  the  borders  of  Lorraine 
and  Champagne.  Just  without  the  cottage  where  she  was  born  began 
the  great  woods  of  the  Vosges,  where  the  children  of  Domr6my  drank 
in  poetry  and  legend  from  fairy  ring  and  haunted  well,  hung  their 
flower  garlands  on  the  sacred  trees,  and  sang  songs  to  the  "good 
people"  who  might  not  drink  of  the  fountain  because  of  iheir  sins. 
Jeanne  loved  the  forest ;  its  birds  and  beasts  came  lovingly  to  her  at 
her  childish  call.  But  at  home  men  saw  nothing  in  her  but  "a  good 
girl,  simple  and  pleasant  in  her  ways/'  spinning  and  sewing  by  her 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


275 


mother's  side  while  the  other  girls  went  to  the  fields,  tender  to  the  poor 
and  sick,  fond  of  church,  and  hsteningtothe  thurch-bell  with  a  dreamy 
passion  of  delight  which  never  left  her.    The  quiet  life  was  soon  broken 
by  the  storm  of  war  as  it  at  last  came  home  to  Domremy.     The  death 
of  King  Charles,  which  followed  hard  on  that  of  Henry  the  Fifth, 
brought  little   change.      The   Dauphin  at  once  proclaimed  himself 
Charles  the  Seventh  of  France  :  but  Henry  the  Sixth  was  owned  as 
Sovereign  over  the  whole  of  the  territory  which  Charles  had  actually 
ruled  ;  and  the  incursions  which  the  partizans  of  Charles,  now  rein- 
forced by  Lombard  soldiers  from  the  Milanese  and  by  four  thousand 
Scots  under  the  Earl  of  Douglas,  made  with  fresh  vigour  across  the 
Loire  were  easily  repulsed  by  Du"ke  John  of  Bedford,  the  late  King's 
brother,  who  had   been   named  in  his  will  Regent  of  France.      In 
genius  for  war  as  in  political  capacity  John  was  hardly  inferior  to 
Henry  himself     Drawing  closer  by  marriage  and  patient  diplomacy 
his  alliances  with  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy  and   Britanny,  he  com- 
pleted the  conquest  of  Northern  France,  secured  his  communications 
with  Normandy  by  the  capture  of  Meulan,  made  himself  master  of 
the  line  of  the  Yonne  by  a  victory  near  Auxerre,  and  pushed  forward 
into  the  country  near  Macon.     It  was  to  arrest  his  progress  that  the 
Constable  of  Buchan  advanced  boldly  from  the  Loire  to  the  very 
borders  of  Normandy  and  attacked  the  English  army  at  Vcrneuil. 
But  a  repulse  hardly  less  disastrous  than  that  of  Agincourt  left  a  third 
of  the  1  rench  knighthood  on  the  field  ;  and  the  Regent  was  preparing 
to  cross  the  Loire  when  he  was  hindered  by  the  intrigues  of  his  brother 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester.    The  nomination  of  Gloucester  to  the  Regency 
in  England  by  the  will  of  the  late  King  had  been  set  aside  by  the 
Council,  and  sick  of  the  powerless  Protectorate  with  which  they  had 
invested  him,  the  Duke  sought  a  new  opening  for  his  restless  ambition 
in  the  Netherlands,  where  he  supported  the  claims  of  Jacqueline,  the 
Countess  in  her  own  right  of  Holland  and  Hainault,  whom  he  had 
married  on  her  divorce  from  the  Duke  of  Brabant.  His  enterprise  roused 
thejealousy  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  regarded  himself  as  heir  to  the 
Duke  of  Brabant,  and  the  efforts  of  Bedford  were  paralyzed  by  the  with- 
drawal of  his  Burgundian  allies  as  they  marched  northward  to  combat 
his  brother.    Though  Gloucester  soon  returned  to  England,  the  ruinous 
struggle  went  on  for  three  years,  during  which  Bedford  was  forced  to 
remain  simply  on  the  defensive,  till  the  cessation  of  war  again  restored 
to  him  the  aid  of  Burgundy.     Strife  at  home  between  Gloucester  and 
Beaufort  had  been  even  more  fatal  in  diverting  the  suppHes  of  men  and 
money  needed  for  the  war  in  France,  but  with  temporary  quiet  in 
England  and  peace  in  Holland  Bedford  was  once  more  able  to  push 
forward  to  the  conquest  of  the  South.     The  delay,  however,  brought 
little  help  to  France,  and  Charles  saw  Orleans  invested  by  ten  thousand 
of  the  allies  without  power  to  march  to  its  relief.     The  war  had  long 


276 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


since  reached  the  borders  of  Lorraine.  The  north  of  France,  indeed, 
was  being  fast  reduced  to  a  desert.  The  husbandmen  fled  for  refuge 
to  the  towns,  till  these  in  fear  of  famine  shut  their  gates  against  them. 
Then  in  their  despair  they  threw  themselves  into  the  woods  and  became 
brigands  in  their  turn.  So  terrible  was  the  devastation,  that  two  hostile 
bodies  of  troops  at  one  time  failed  even  to  find  one  another  in  the 
desolate  Beauce.  The  towns  were  in  hardly  better  case,  for  misery 
and  disease  killed  a  hundred  thousand  people  in  Paris  alone.  As  the 
outcasts  and  wounded  passed  by  Domrdmy  the  young  peasant  girl  gave 
them  her  bed  and  nursed  them  in  their  sickness.  Her  whole  nature 
summed  itself  up  in  one  absorbing  passion  :  she  "  had  pity,"  to  use  the 
phrase  for  ever  on  her  lip,  "  on  the  fair  realm  of  France."  As  her 
passion  grew  she  recalled  old  prophecies  that  a  maid  from  the  Lorraine 
border  should  save  the  land  ;  she  saw  visions;  St.  Michael  appeared 
to  her  in  a  flood  of  blinding  light,  and  bade  her  go  to  the  help  of  the 
King  and  restore  to  him  his  realm.  "  Messire,"  answered  the  girl,  "  I 
am  but  a  poor  maiden  ;  I  know  not  how  to  ride  to  the  wars,  or  to  lead 
men-at-arms."  The  archangel  returned  to  give  her  courage,  and  to 
tell  her  of  "  the  pity  "  that  there  was  in  heaven  for  the  fair  realm  of 
France.  The  girl  wept,  and  longed  that  the  angels  who  appeared  to 
her  would  carry  her  away,  but  her  mission  was  clear.  It  was  in  vain 
that  her  father  when  he  heard  her  purpose  swore  to  drown  her  ere  she 
should  go  to  the  field  with  men-at-arms.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  priest, 
the  wise  people  of  the  village,  the  captain  of  Vaucouleurs,  doubted 
and  refused  to  aid  her.  "  I  must  go  to  the  King,"  persisted  the  peasant 
girl,  "  even  if  I  wear  my  limbs  to  the  very  knees."  "  I  had  far  rather 
rest  and  spin  by  my  mother's  side,"  she  pleaded  with  a  touching  pathos, 
"for  this  is  no  work  of  my  choosing,  but  I  must  go  and  do  it,  for  my 
Lord  wills  it.'  "  And  who,"  they  asked,  "is  your  Lord?"  "  He  is 
God."  Words  such  as  these  touched  the  rough  captain  at  last :  he 
took  Jeanne  by  the  hand  and  swore  to  lead  her  to  the  King.  When 
she  reached  Chinon  she  found  hesitation  and  doubt.  The  theologians 
proved  from  their  books  that  they  ought  not  to  believe  her.  **  There 
is  more  in  God's  book  than  in  yours,"  Jeanne  answered  simply.  At 
last  Charles  received  her  in  the  midst  of  a  throng  of  nobles  and  soldiers. 
"  Gentle  Dauphin,"  said  the  girl,  "  my  name  is  Jeanne  the  Maid.  The 
Heavenly  King  sends  me  to  tell  you  that  you  shall  be  anointed  and 
crowned  in  the  town  of  Rheims,  and  you  shall  be  lieutenant  of  the 
Heavenly  King  who  is  the  King  of  France." 

Orleans  had  already  been  driven  by  famine  to  offers  of  surrender 
when  Jeanne  appeared  in  the  French  Court.  *  Charles  had  done 
nothing  for  its  aid  but  shut  himself  up  at  Chinon  and  weep  help- 
lessly. The  long  series  of  English  victories  had  in  fact  so  demoralized 
the  French  soldiery  that  a  mere  detachment  of  archers  under  Sir 
John  P'astolfe  had  repulsed  an  army,  in  what  was  called  the  "  Battlr 


^I.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


277 


of  the  Herrings,"  and  conducted  the  convoy  of  provisions  to  which  it 
owed  its  name  in  triumph  into  the  camp  before  Orleans.  Only 
three  thousand  Englishmen  remained  there  in  the  trenches  after  a 
new  withdrawal  of  their  Burgundian  allies,  but  though  the  town 
swarmed  with  men-at-arms  not  a  single  sally  had  been  ventured  upon 
during  the  six  months'  siege.  The  success  however  of  the  handful  of 
English  besiegers  depended  wholly  on  the  spell  of  terror  which  they 
had  cast  over  France,  and  the  appearance  of  Jeanne  at  once  broke  the 
spell.  The  girl  was  in  her  eighteenth  year,  tall,  finely  formed,  with  all 
the  vigour  and  activity  of  her  peasant  rearing,  able  to  stay  from  dawn 
to  nightfall  on  horseback  without  meat  or  drink.  As  she  mounted  her 
charger,  clad  in  white  armour  from  head  to  foot,  with  the  great  white 
banner  studded  with  fleur-de-lys  waving  over  her  head,  she  seemed 
"  a  thing  wholly  divine,  whether  to  see  or  hear  "  The  ten  thousand 
men-at  arms  who  followed  her  from  Blois,  rough  plunderers  whose 
only  prayer  was  that  of  La  Hire,  "  Sire  Dieu,  I  pray  you  to  do  for  La 
Hire  what  La  Hire  would  do  for  you,  were  you  captain-at-arms  and  he 
God,"  left  off  their  oaths  and  foul  living  at  her  word  and  gathered 
round  the  altars  on  their  march.  Her  shrewd  peasant  humour  helped 
her  to  manage  the  wild  soldiery,  and  her  followers  laughed  over  their 
camp-firej  at  the  old  warrior  who  had  been  so  puzzled  by  her  pro- 
hibition of  oaths  that  she  suffered  him  still  to  swear  by  his  baton.  In 
the  midst  of  her  enthusiasm  her  good  sense  never  left  her.  The  people 
crowded  round  her  as  she  rode  along,  praying  her  to  work  miracles, 
and  bringing  crosses  and  chaplets  to  be  blest  by  her  touch.  "  Touch 
them  yourself,"  she  said  to  an  old  Dame  Margaret ;  "your  touch  will 
be  just  as  good  as  mine."  But  her  faith  in  her  mission  remained  as 
firm  as  ever.  "The  Maid  prays  and  requires  you,"  she  wrote  to 
Bedford,  "  to  work  no  more  distraction  in  France,  but  to  come  in  her 
company  to  rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  Turk."  "  I  bring 
you,"  she  told  Dunois  when  he  sallied  out  of  Orleans  to  meet  her, 
"the  best  aid  ever  sent  to  any  one,  the  aid  of  the  King  of  Heaven." 
The  besiegers  looked  on  overawed  as  she  entered  Orleans,  and, 
riding  round  the  walls,  bade  the  people  look  fearlessly  on  the  dreaded 
forts  which  surrounded  them.  Her  enthusiasm  drove  the  hesitating 
generals  to  engage  the  handful  of  besiegers,  and  the  enormous  dis- 
proportion of  forces  at  once  made  itself  felt.  Fort  after  fort  was  taken, 
till  only  the  strongest  remained,  and  then  the  council  of  war  resolved 
to  adjourn  the  attack.  "You  have  taken  your  counsel,"  replied 
Jeanne,  "and  I  take  mine."  Placing  herself  at  the  head  of  the 
men-at-arms,  she  ordered  the  gates  to  be  thrown  open,  and  led  them 
against  the  fort.  Few  as  they  were,  the  English  fought  desperately, 
and  the  Maid,  who  had  fallen  wounded  while  endeavouring  to 
Bcale  its  walls,  was  borne  into  a  vineyard,  while  Dunois  sounded 
the  retreat.     "Wait   a   while!"  the  girl  imperiously  pleaded,  "eat 


278 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


and  drink  !  so  soon  as  my  standard  touches  the  wall  you  shall 
enter  the  fort."  It  touched,  and  the  assailants  burst  in.  On  the 
next  day  the  siege  was  abandoned,  and  the  force  which  had  con- 
ducted it  withdrew  in  good  order  to  the  north.  In  the  midst  of  her 
triumph  Jeanne  still  remained  the  pure,  tender-hearted  peasant  girl  of 
the  Vosges.  Her  first  visit  as  she  entered  Orleans  was  to  the  great 
church,  and  there,  as  she  knelt  at  mass,  she  wept  in  such  a  passion  of 
devotion  that  "  all  the  people  wept  with  her."  Her  tears  burst  forth 
afresh  at  her  first  sight  of  bloodshed  and  of  the  corpses  strewn  over 
the  battle-field.  She  grew  frightened  at  her  first  wound,  and  only 
threw  off  the  touch  of  womanly  fear  when  she  heard  the  signal  for 
retreat.  Yet  more  womanly  was  the  purity  with  which  she  passed 
through  the  brutal  warriors  of  a  mediaeval  camp.  It  was  her  care  for 
her  honour  that  had  led  her  to  clothe  herself  in  a  soldier's  dress.  She 
wept  hot  tears  when  told  of  the  foul  taunts  of  the  English,  and  called 
passionately  on  God  to  witness  her  chastity.  ""  Yield  thee,  yield  thee, 
Glasdale,"  she  cried  to  the  English  warrior  whose  insults  had  been 
foulest,  as  he  fell  wounded  at  her  feet,  "  you  called  me  harlot !  I  have 
great  pity  on  your  soul."  But  all  thought  of  herself  was  lost  in  the 
thought  of  her  mission.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  French  generals  strove 
to  remain  on  the  Loire.  Jeanne  was  resolute  to  complete  her  task, 
and  while  the  English  remained  panic-stricken  around  Paris  the  army 
followed  her  from  Gien  through  Troyes,  growing  in  number  as  it 
advanced,  till  it  reached  the  gates  of  Rheims.  With  the  coronation  of 
Charles,  the  Maid  felt  her  errand  to  be  over.  "  O  gentle  King,  the 
pleasure  of  God  is  done,"  she  cried,  as  she  flung  herself  at  the  feet  of 
Charles  the  Seventh  and  asked  leave  to  go  home.  "  Would  it  were 
His  pleasure,"  she  pleaded  with  the  Archbishop  as  he  forced  her  to 
remain,  "  that  I  might  go  and  keep  sheep  once  more  with  my  sisters 
and  my  brothers :  they  would  be  so  glad  to  see  me  again !" 

The  policy  of  the  French  Court  detained  her  while  the  cities 
of  the  north  of  France  opened  their  gates  to  the  newly-consecrated 
King.  Bedford,  however,  who  had  been  left  without  money  or 
men,  had  now  received  reinforcements,  and  Charles,  after  a  repulse 
before  the  walls  of  Paris,  fell  back  behind  the  Loire  ;  while  the  towns 
on  the  Oise  submitted  again  to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  In  this  later 
struggle  Jeanne  fought  with  her  usual  bravery,  but  with  the  fatal 
consciousness  that  her  mission  was  at  an  end,  and  during  the  defence 
of  Compi^gne  she  fell  into  the  power  of  the  Bastard  of  V'end6me,  to 
be  sold  by  her  captor  into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  by 
the  Duke  into  the  hands  of  the  English.  To  the  English  her  triumphs 
were  victories  of  sorcery,  and  after  a  year's  imprisonment  she  was 
brought  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  heresy  before  an  ecclesiastical  court 
with  the  Bishop  of  Beauvais  at  its  head.  Throughout  the  long 
process  which  followed  every  art  was  employed  to  entangle  her  in  her 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


279 


talk.  But  the  simple  shrewdness  of  the  peasant  girl  foiled  the  efforts 
of  her  judges.  "  Do  you  believe,"  they  asked,  "  that  you  are  in  a  state 
of  grace  .?  "  "  If  I  am  not,"  she  replied,  "  God  will  put  me  in  it.  If  I 
am,  (iod  will  keep  me  in  it."  Her  capture,  they  argued,  showed  that 
God  had  forsaken  her.  "  Since  it  has  pleased  God  that  I  should  be 
taken,"  she  answered  mee  ly,  "it  is  for  the  best.'  "Will  you  sub- 
mit," they  demanded  at  last,  "to  the  judgement  of  the  Church 
Militant.?"  "I  have  come  to  the  King  of  France,''  Jeanne  replied, 
"  by  commission  from  God  and  from  the  Church  Triumphant  above  : 
to  that  Church  I  submit."  "  I  had  far  rather  die,"  she  ended,  pas- 
sionately, "  than  renounce  what  I  have  done  by  my  Lord's  command." 
They  deprived  her  of  mass.  "  Our  Lord  can  make  me  hear  it  without 
your  aid,"  she  said,  weeping.  "  Do  your  voices."  asked  the  judges, 
"  forbid  you  to  submit  to  the  Church  and  the  Pope .?"  "  Ah,  no  !  Cur 
Lord  first  served."  Sick,  and  deprived  of  all  religious  aid,  it  was  no 
wonder  that  as  the  long  trial  dragged  on  and  question  followed 
question  Jeanne's  firmness  wavered.  On  the  charge  of  sorcery  and 
diabolical  possession  she  still  appealed  firmly  to  God.  "  I  hold  to  my 
Judge,"  she  said,  as  her  earthly  judges  gave  sentence  against  her,  "  to 
the  King  of  Heaven  and  Earth.  God  has  always  been  my  Lord  in 
all  that  I  have  done.  The  devil  has  never  had  power  over  me."  It 
was  only  with  a  view  to  be  delivered  from  the  military  prison  and 
transferred  to  the  prisons  of  the  Church  that  she  consented  to  a  formal 
abjuration  of  heresy.  She  feared  in  fact  among  the  English  soldiery 
those  outrages  to  her  honour,  to  guard  against  which  she  had  from  the 
first  assumed  the  dress  of  a  man.  In  the  eyes  of  the  Church  her  dress 
was  a  crime  and  she  abandoned  it  ;  but  a  renewed  insult  forced  her  to 
resume  the  one  safeguard  left  her,  and  the  return  to  it  was  treated  as 
a  relapse  into  heresy  which  doomed  her  to  death.  A  great  pile  was 
raised  in  the  market-place  of  Rouen  where  her  statue  stands  now.  Even 
the  brutal  soldiers  who  snatched  the  hated  "  witch  "  from  the  hands  of 
the  clergy  and  hurried  her  to  her  doom  were  hushed  as  she  reached  I 
the  stake.  One  indeed  passed  to  her  a  rough  cross  he  had  made 
from  a  stick  he  held,  and  she  clasped  it  to  her  bosom.  "  Oh  !  Rouen, 
Rouen,"  she  was  heard  to  murmur,  as  her  eyes  ranged  over  the  city 
from  the  lofty  scaffold,  "  I  have  great  fear  lest  you  suffer  for  my  death." 
"  Yes  !  my  voices  were  of  God  !  "  she  suddenly  cried  as  the  last 
moment  came  ;  "  they  have  never  deceived  me  !  "  Soon  the  flames 
reached  her,  the  girl's  h^ad  sank  on  her  breast,  there  was  one  cry  of 
"Jesus  !  "—"We  are  lost,"  an  English  soldier  muttered  as  the  crowd 
broke  up,  "  we  have  burned  a  Saint." 

The  English  cause  was  indeed  irretrievably  lost.  In  spite  of  a 
pompous  coronation  of  the  boy-king  Henry  at  Paris,  Bedford,  with  the 
cool  wisdom  of  his  temper,  seems  to  have  abandoned  all  hope  of  per- 
manently retaining  France,  and  to  have  fallen  back  on  his  brother's 


The  Loss 
of  Frana« 


28o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


original  plan  of  securing  Normandy.  Henry's  Court  was  established 
for  a  year  at  Rouen,  a  university  founded  at  Caen,  and  whatever  rapine 
and  disorder  might  be  permitted  elsewhere,  justice,  good  government, 
and  security  for  trade  were  steadily  maintained  through  the  favoured 
provinces.  At  home  Bedford  was  resolutely  backed  by  the  Bishop 
of  Winchester,  who  had  been  raised  in  1426  to  the  rank  of  Cardinal, 
and  who  now  again  governed  England  through  the  Royal  Council  in 
spite  of  the  fruitless  struggles  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester.  Even  when 
he  had  been  excluded  from  the  Council  by  Gloucester's  intrigues,  Beau- 
fort's immense  wealth  was  poured  without  stint  into  the  exhausted 
Treasury  till  his  loans  to  the  Crown  amounted  to  half-a-million  ;  and 
he  had  unscrupulously  diverted  an  army  which  he  had  raised  at  his  own 
cost  for  the  Hussite  Crusade  in  Bohemia  to  the  relief  of  Bedford  after 
the  deliverance  of  Orleans.  The  Cardinal's  diplomatic  ability  was 
seen  in  the  truces  he  wrung  from  Scotland,  and  in  his  personal  efforts  to 
prevent  the  reconciliation  of  Burgundy  with  France.  In  1435  however 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  concluded  a  formal  treaty  with  Charles  ;  and  his 
desertion  was  followed  by  a  yet  more  fatal  blow  to  the  English  cause 
in  the  death  of  Bedford.  Paris  rose  suddenly  against  its  English 
garrison  and  declared  for  King  Charles.  Henry's  dominion  shrank  at 
once  to  Normandy  and  the  outlying  fortresses  of  Picardy  and  Maine. 
But  reduced  as  they  were  to  a  mere  handful,  and  fronted  by  a  whole 
nation  in  arms,  the  English  soldiers  struggled  on  with  as  desperate  a 
bravery  as  in  their  days  of  triumph.  Lord  Talbot,  the  most  daring  of 
their  chiefs,  forded  the  Somme  with  the  waters  up  to  his  chin  to  relieve 
Crotoy,  and  threw  his  men  across  the  Oise  in  the  face  of  a  French  army 
to  relieve  Pontoise.  The  Duke  of  York,  who  succeeded  Bedford  as 
Regent,  by  his  abilities  stemmed  for  a  time  the  tide  of  ill-fortune,  but 
the  jealousy  shown  to  him  by  the  King's  counsellors  told  fatally  on  the 
course  of  the  war.  A  fresh  effort  for  peace  was  made  by  the  Earl  of 
Suffolk,  who  swayed  the  Council  after  age  forced  Beaufort  to  retire  to 
Winchester,  and  who  negotiated  for  his  master  a  marriage  with  Mar- 
garet, the  daughter  of  Duke  Rend  of  Anjou.  Not  only  Anjou,  of  which 
England  possessed  nothing,  but  Maine,  the  bulwark  of  Normandy, 
were  ceded  to  Duke  Rend  as  the  price  of  a  match  which  Suffolk 
regarded  as  the  prelude  to  peace.  But  the  terms  of  the  treaty  and 
the  delays  which  still  averted  a  final  peace  gave  new  strength  to  the 
war-party  with  Gloucester  at  its  head.  The  danger  was  roughly  met. 
Gloucester  was  arrested  as  he  rode  to  Parliament  on  a  charge  of  secret 
conspiracy  ;  and  a  few  days  later  he  was  found  dead  in  his  lodging. 
But  the  difficulties  he  had  raised  foiled  Suffolk  in  his  negotiations  ;  and 
though  Charles  extorted  the  surrender  of  Le  Mans  by  a  threat  of  war, 
the  provisions  of  the  treaty  remained  for  the  most  part  unfulfilled.  The 
struggle,  however,  now  became  a  hopeless  one.  In  two  months  from 
the  resumption  of  the  war  half  Normandy  was  in  the  hands  of  Dunois ; 


Vl.J 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


2&t 


Rouen  rose  against  her  feeble  garrison  and  threw  open  her  gates  to 
Charles  ;  and  the  defeat  of  an  English  force  at  Fourmigny  was  the 
signal  for  revolt  throughout  the  rest  of  the  province.  The  surrender  of 
Cherbourg  in  1450  left  Henry  not  a  foot  of  Norman  ground,  and  the 
next  year  the  last  fragment  of  the  Duchy  of  Guienne  was  lost.  Gascony 
indeed  once  more  turned  to  the  English  Crown  on  the  landing  of  an 
English  force  under  Talbot,  Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  But  ere  the  twenty 
thousand  men  whose  levy  was  voted  by  Parliament  for  his  aid  could 
cross  the  Channel  Shrewsbury  suddenly  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
the  whole  French  army.  His  men  were  mown  down  by  its  guns,  and 
the  Earl  himself  left  dead  on  the  field.  The  surrender  of  fortress 
after  fortress  secured  the  final  expulsion  of  the  English  from  the  soil 
of  France,  The  Hundred  Years'  War  had  ended,  not  only  in  the  loss 
of  the  temporary  conquests  made  since  the  time  of  Edward  the  Third, 
with  the  exception  of  Calais,  but  in  the  loss  of  the  great  southern 
province  which  had  remained  in  English  hands  ever  since  the  marriage 
of  its  Duchess,  Eleanor,  to  Henry  the  Second,  and  in  the  building  up 
of  France  into  a  far  greater  power  than  it  had  ever  been  before. 

Section  II.— The  Wars  of  the  Roses,  I450— 14.71. 

[Authorities. — No  period,  save  the  last,  is  scantier  in  historical  authoritie.'^. 
We  still  possess  William  of  Worcester,  Fabyan,  and  the  Crowland  Continual  o, 
and  for  the  struggle  between  Warwick  and  Edward,  the  valuable  narrative  of 
**  The  Arrival  of  Edward  IV.,"  edited  for  the  Camden  Society,  which  may  be 
taken  as  the  official  account  on  the  royal  side.  "  The  Paston  Letters  "  (edited 
by  Mr.  Gairdner)  are  the  first  instance  in  English  history  of  a  family  corre- 
spondence, and  throw  great  light  on  the  social  history  of  the  time.  Cade's 
rising  has  been  illustrated  in  two  papers,  lately  reprinted,  by  Mr.  Durrant 
Cooper,     The  Rolls  of  Parliament  are,  as  before,  of  the  highest  value.] 

The  ruinous  issue  of  the  great  struggle  with  France  roused  England 
to  a  burst  of  fury  against  the  wretched  government  to  whose  weakness 
and  credulity  it  attributed  its  disasters.  Suffolk  was  impeached,  and 
murdered  as  he  crossed  the  sea  into  exile.  When  the  Bishop  of 
Chichester  was  sent  to  pay  the  sailors  at  Portsmouth,  and  strove  to 
put  them  off  with  less  than  their  due,  they  fell  on  him  and  slew  him. 
In  Kent,  the  great  manufacturing  district  of  the  day,  seething  with  a 
busy  population,  and  especially  concerned  with  the  French  contests 
through  the  piracy  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  where  every  house  showed 
some  spoil  from  the  wars,  the  discontent  broke  into  open  revolt.  The 
rising  spread  from-  Kent  over  Surrey  and  Sussex,  A  military  levy  of 
the  yeomen  of  the  three  shires  was  organized  ;  the  insurgents  were 
joined  by  more  than  a  hundred  esquires  and  gentlemen,  and  two  great 
landowners  of  Sussex,  the  Abbot  of  Battle  and  the  Prior  of  Lewes, 
openly  favoured  their  cause.  John  Cade,  a  soldier  of  some  experience 
in  the  French  wars,  took  the  significant  name  of  Mortimer,  and  placed 


282 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


himself  at  their  head ;  and  the  army,  now  twenty  thousand  men  strong, 
marched  on  Blackheath.  The  "Complaint  of  the  Commons  of  Kent" 
which  they  laid  before  the  Royal  Council,  is  of  high  value  in  the  light 
which  it  throws  on  the  condition  of  the  people.  Not  one  of  the 
demands  touches  on  religious  reform.  The  question  of  villeinage  and 
serfage  finds  no  place  in  the  "Complaint"  of  1450.  In  the  seventy 
years  which  had  intervened  since  the  last  peasant  rising,  villeinage  had 
died  naturally  away  before  the  progress  of  social  change.  The  Statutes 
of  Apparel,  which  from  this  time  encumber  the  Statute-Book,  show  in 
their  anxiety  to  curtail  the  dress  of  the  labourer  and  the  farmer  the 
progress  of  these  classes  in  comfort  and  wealth  ;  and  from  the  language 
of  the  statutes  themselves,  it  is  plain  that  as  wages  rose  both  farmer 
and  labourer  went  on  clothing  themselves  better  in  spite  of  sumptuary 
provisions.  With  the  exception  of  a  demand  for  the  repeal  of  the 
Statute  of  Labourers,  the  programme  of  the  Commons  was  now  not 
social,  but  political.  The  "Complaint"  calls  for  administrative  and 
economical  reforms,  for  a  change  of  ministry,  a  more  careful  expendi- 
ture of  the  royal  revenue,  and  for  the  restoration  of  freedom  of  election, 
which  had  been  broken  in  upon  by  the  interference  both  of  the  Crown 
and  the  great  landowners.  The  refusal  of  the  Council  to  receive  the 
"  Complaint "  was  followed  by  a  victory  of  the  Kentishmen  over  the 
royal  forces  at  Sevenoaks  ;  the  entry  of  the  insurgents  into  London, 
coupled  with  the  execution  of  Lord  Say,  the  most  unpopular  of  the 
royal  ministers,  broke  the  obstinacy  of  his  colleagues.  The  "  Com- 
plaint "  was  received,  pardons  were  granted  to  all  who  had  joined  in 
the  rising  ;  and  the  insurgents  dispersed  to  their  homes.  Cade,  who 
had  striven  in  vain  to  retain  them  in  arms,  sought  to  form  a  new  force 
by  throwing  open  the  gaols ;  but  his  men  quarrelled,  and  Cade  himself 
was  slain  by  the  sheriff  of  Kent  as  he  fled  into  Sussex.  The  "  Com- 
plaint" was  quietly  laid  aside.  No  attempt  was  made  to  redress  the 
grievances  which  it  stated,  and  the  main  object  of  popular  hate,  the 
Duke  of  Somerset,  took  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  Royal  Council. 

Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset,  as  the  grandson  of  John  of  Gaunt  and 
his  mistress  Catharine  Swynford,  was  the  representative  of  a  junior 
branch  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  whose  claims  to  the  throne  Henry 
IV.  had  barred  by  a  clause  in  the  Act  which  legitimated  their  line, 
but  whose  hopes  of  the  Crown  were  roused  by  the  childlessness  of 
Henry  VI.  He  found  a  rival  in  the  Duke  of  York,  heir  of  t' e  houses 
of  York,  of  Clarence,  and  of  Mortimer,  who  boasted  of  a  double  descent 
from  Eilward  III.  In  addition  to  other  claims  which  York  as  yet  re- 
frained from  urging,  he  claimed  as  descendant  of  Edmund  of  Langley, 
Edward's  fifth  son,  to  be  regarded  as  heir  presumptive  to  the  throne. 
Popular  favour  seems  to  have  been  on  his  side,  but  in  1453  the  birth 
of  the  King's  son  promised  to  free  the  Crown  from  the  turmoil  of  w  iviring 
factions  ;  Henry,  however,  at  the  sjime  time  sank  into  a  state  of  idioto* 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


2^3 


which  made  his  rule  impossible,  and  York  was  appointed  Protector 
of  the  Realm.  But  on  Henry's  recovery  the  Duke  of  Somerset, 
who  had  been  impeached  and  committed  to  the  Tower  by  his  rival, 
was  restored  to  power,  and  supported  with  singular  vigour  and 
audacity  by  the  Queen.  York  at  once  took  up  arms,  and  bac  ed  by 
the  Earls  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick,  the  heads  of  the  great  House  of 
Neville,  he  advanced  with  3,000  men  upon  St.  Albans,  where  Henry 
was  encamped.  A  successful  assault  upon  the  town  was  crowned  by 
the  death  of  Somerset ;  and  a  return  of  the  King's  malady  brought  the 
renewal  of  York's  Protectorate.  Henry's  recovery,  however,  again 
restored  the  supremacy  of  the  House  of  Beaufort,  and  after  a  temporary 
reconciliation  between  the  two  parties  there  was  a  fresh  outbreak  of 
war.  Salisbury  defeated  Lord  Audley  at  Bloreheath,  and  York  with 
the  two  Earls  raised  his  standard  at  Ludlow.  The  King  marched 
rapidly  on  the  insurgents,  and  a  decisive  battle  was  only  averted  by 
the  desertion  of  a  part  of  the  Yorkist  army  and  the  disbanding  of  the 
rest.  The  Duke  himself  fled  to  Ireland,  the  Earls  to  Calais,  while  the 
Queen,  summoning  a  Parliament  at  Coventry,  pressed  on  their 
attainder.  But  the  check,  whatever  its  cause,  had  been  merely  a 
temporary  one.  In  the  following  Midsummer  the  Earls  again  landed 
in  Kent,  and  backed  by  a  general  rising  of  the  county,  entered  London 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  its  citizens.  The  royal  army  was  defeated 
in  a  hard-fought  action  at  Northampton,  Margaret  fled  to  Scotland, 
and  Henry  was  left  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  York. 

The  position  of  York  as  heir  presumptive  to  the  crown  by  descent  from 
Edmund  of  Langley  had  ceased  with  the  birth  of  a  son  to  Henry  ;  but 
the  victory  of  Northampton  no  sooner  raised  him  to  the  supreme  control 
of  affairs  than  he  ventured  to  assert  the  far  more  dangerous  claims 
which  he  had  secretly  cherished,  and  to  their  consciousness  of  which  was 
owing  the  bitter  hostility  of  Henry  and  his  Queen.  As  the  descendant  of 
Edmund  of  Langley  he  stood  only  next  in  succession  to  the  House  of 
Lancaster,  but  as  the  descendant  of  Lionel,  the  elder  brother  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  he  stood  in  strict  hereditary  right  before  it.  We 
have  already  seen  how  the  claims  of  Lionel  had  passed  to  the  House 
of  Mortimer :  it  was  through  Anne,  the  heiress  of  the  Mortimers,  who 
had  wedded  his  father,  that  they  passed  to  the  Duke.  There  was, 
however,  no  constitutional  ground  for  any  limitation  of  the  right  of 
Parliament  to  set  aside  an  elder  branch  in  favour  of  a  younger,  and  in 
the  Parliamentary  Act  which  placed  the  House  of  Lancaster  on  the 
throne  the  claim  of  the  House  of  Mortimer  had  been  deliberately 
set  aside.  Possession,  too,  told  against  the  Yorkist  pretensions. 
To  modern  minds  the  best  reply  to  their  claim  lay  in  the  words  used 
at  a  later  time  by  Henry  himself.  "  My  father  was  King  ;  his  father 
also  was  King  ;  I  myself  have  worn  the  crown  forty  years  from  my 
cradle ;  you  have  all  sworn  fealty  to  me  as  your  sovereign,  and  your 


284 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


fathers  have  done  the  like  to  mine.  How  then  can  my  right  be 
disputed  ?"  Long  and  undisturbed  possession,  as  well  as  a  distinctly 
legal  title  by  free  vote  of  Parliament,  was  in  favour  of  the  House  of 
Lancaster.  But  the  persecution  of  the  Lollards,  the  interference  with 
elections,  the  odium  of  the  war,  the  shame  of  the  long  misgovernment, 
told  fatally  against  the  weak  and  imbecile  King,  whose  reign  had  been 
a  long  battle  of  contending  factions.  That  the  misrule  had  been  serious 
was  shown  by  the  attitude  of  the  commercial  class.  It  was  the  rising 
of  Kent,  the  great  manufacturing  district  of  the  realm,  which  brought 
about  the  victory  of  Northampton,  Throughout  the  struggle  which 
followed,  London  and  the  great  merchant  towns  were  steady  for  the 
House  of  York,  Zeal  for  the  Lancastrian  cause  was  found  only  in 
Wales,  in  northern  England,  and  in  the  south-western  shires.  It  is 
absurd  to  suppose  that  the  shrewd  traders  of  Cheapside  were  moved 
by  an  abstract  question  of  hereditary  right,  or  that  the  wild 
Welshmen  believed  themselves  to  be  supporting  the  right  of 
Parliament  to  regulate  the  succession.  But  it  marks  the  power 
which  Parliament  had  now  gained  that  the  Duke  of  York  felt  himself 
compelled  to  convene  the  two  Houses,  and  to  lay  his  claim  before 
the  Lords  as  a  petition  of  right.  Neither  oaths  nor  the  numerous 
Acts  which  had  settled  and  confirmed  the  right  to  the  crown  in  the 
House  of  Lancaster  could  destroy,  he  pleaded,  his  hereditary  claim. 
The  baronage  received  the  petition  with  hardly  concealed  reluctance, 
and  solved  the  question,  as  they  hoped,  by  a  compromise.  They 
refused  to  dethrone  the  King,  but  they  had  sworn  no  fealty  to  his  child, 
and  at  Henry's  death  they  agreed  to  receive  the  Duke  as  successor  to 
the  crown.  But  the  open  display  of  York's  pretensions  at  once 
united  the  partizans  of  the  royal  House,  and  the  deadly  struggle 
which  received  the  name  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  from  the  white 
rose  which  formed  the  badge  of  the  House  of  Yor ;  and  the  red  rose 
which  was  the  cognizance  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  began  in  the 
gathering  of  the  North  round  Lord  Clifford,  and  of  the  West  round  the 
new  Duke  of  Somerset.  York,  who  had  hurried  to  meet  the  first  with 
a  far  inferior  force,  was  defeated  and  slain  at  Wakefield,  and  the 
passion  of  civil  war  broke  fiercely  out  on  the  field.  The  Earl  of 
Salisbury  was  hurried  to  the  block,  and  the  head  of  Duke  Richard, 
crowned  in  mockery  with  a  diadem  of  paper,  is  said  to  have  been 
impaled  on  the  walls  of  York,  His  second  son,  Lord  Rutland,  fell 
crying  for  mercy  on  his  knees  before  Clifford,  But  Clifford's  father 
had  been  the  first  to  fall  in  the  battle  of  St.  Albans  which  opened  the 
struggle.  "  As  your  faflier  killed  mine,"  cried  the  savage  baron  while 
he  plunged  his  dagger  in  the  young  noble's  breast,  "  I  will  kill  you  I" 
The  brutal  deed  was  soon  to  be  avenged.  Duke  Richard's  eldest  son, 
Edward,  Earl  of  March,  hurried  from  the  West,  and,  routing  a  body 
of  Lancastrians  at  Mortimer's  Cross,  struck  boldly  upon  London.     A 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


285 


force  of  Kentishmen  under  the  Earl  of  Warwick  barred  the  march  of 
the  Lancastrian  army  on  the  capital,  but  after  a  desperate  struggle  at 
St.  Albans  the  Yorkist  forces  broke  under  cover  of  night.  An  imme- 
diate advance  of  the  conquerors  might  have  decided  the  contest,  but 
Queen  Margaret  paused  to  sully  her  victory  by  a  series  of  bloody  exe- 
cutions, and  the  rough  northerners  who  formed  the  bulk  of  her  army 
scattered  to  pillage,  while  Edward  appeared  before  London.  The 
citizens  rallied  at  his  call,  and  cries  of  "Long  live  King  Edward" 
rang  round  the  handsome  young  leader  as  he  rode  through  the  streets. 
A  council  of  Yorkist  lords,  hastily  summoned,  resolved  that  the  com- 
promise agreed  on  in  Parliament  was  at  an  end  and  that  Henry  of 
Lancaster  had  forfeited  the  throne.  The  final  issue,  however,  now  lay, 
not  with  Parliament,  but  with  the  sword.  Disappointed  of  London,  the 
Lancastrian  army  fell  rapidly  back  on  the  North,  and  Edward  hurried 
as  rapidly  in  pursuit. 

The  two  armies  encountered  one  another  at  Towton  Field,  near 
Tadcaster.  In  the  numbers  engaged,  as  well  as  in  the  terrible  obstinacy 
of  the  struggle,  no  such  battle  had  been  seen  in  England  since  the  fight 
of  Senlac.  The  armies  numbered  together  nearly  120,000  men.  The 
day  had  just  broken  when  the  Yorkists  advanced  through  a  thick 
snow-fall,  and  for  six  hours  the  battle  raged  with  desperate  bravery  on 
either  side.  At  one  critical  moment  Warwick  saw  his  men  falter,  and 
stabbing  his  horse  before  them,  swore  on  the  cross  of  his  sword  to  win 
or  die  on  the  field.  The  battle  was  turned  by  the  arrival  of  Norfolk 
with  a  fresh  force.  At  last  the  Lancastrians  gave  way,  a  river  in  their 
rear  turned  the  retreat  into  a  rout,  and  the  flight  and  carnage,  for  no 
quarter  was  given  on  either  side,  went  on  through  the  night  and  the 
morrow.  Edward's  herald  counted  more  than  20,000  Lancastrian 
corpses  on  the  field,  and  the  losses  of  the  conquerors  were  hardly  less 
heavy.  But  their  triumph  was  complete.  The  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land was  slain  ;  the  Earls  of  Devonshire  and  Wiltshire  were  taken  and 
beheaded  ;  the  Duke  of  Somerset  fled  into  exile.  Henry  himself  with 
his  Queen  was  forced  to  fly  over  the  border  and  to  find  a  refuge  in 
Scotland  The  cause  of  the  House  of  Lancaster  was  lost :  and  with 
the  victory  of  Towton  the  crown  of  England  passed  to  Edward  of 
York.  A  vast  bill  of  attainder  wrapped  in  the  same  ruin  and  confisca- 
tion the  nobles  and  gentry  who  still  adhered  to  the  House  of  Lancaster. 
The  struggles  of  Margaret  only  served  to  bring  fresh  calamities  on 
her  adherents.  A  new  rising  in  the  North  was  crushed  by  the  Earl 
of  Warwic  ,  and  a  legend  which  lights  up  the  gloom  of  the  time  with 
a  gleam  of  poetry  told  how  the  fugitive  Queen,  after  escaping  with 
difficulty  from  a  troop  of  bandits,  found  a  new  brigand  in  the  depths 
of  the  wood.  With  the  daring  of  despair  she  confided  to  him  her 
child.  "  1  trust  to  your  loyalty,"  she  said,  "  the  son  of  your  King." 
Margaret  and  her  child  escaped  over  the  border  under  the  robber's 


286 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF- 


guidance  ;  but  on  the  defeat  of  a  new  revolt  in  the  battle  of  Hexham, 
Henry,  after  helpless  wanderings,  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  his 
enemies.  His  feet  were  tied  to  the  stirrups,  he  was  led  thrice  round 
the  pillory,  and  then  conducted  as  a  prisoner  to  the  Tower. 

Ruined  as  feudalism  really  was  by  the  decline  of  the  baronage,  the 
extinction  of  the  greater  house*,  and  the  break-up  of  the  great  estates, 
which  had  been  steadily  going  on,  it  had  never  seemed  more  powerful 
than  in  the  years  which  followed  Towton.  Out  of  the  wreck  of  the 
baronage  a  family  which  had  always  stood  high  amongst  its  fellows 
towered  into  unrivalled  greatness.  Lord  Warwick  was  by  descent  Earl 
of  Salisbury,  a  son  of  the  great  noble  whose  support  had  been  m  unly 
instrumental  in  raising  the  House  of  York  to  the  throne.  He  had  doubled 
his  wealth  and  influence  by  his  acquisition  of  the  Earldom  of  Warwick 
through  a  marriage  with  the  heiress  of  the  Beauchamps.  H  is  ser .  ices  to 
the  Yorkists  were  munificently  rewarded  by  the  grant  of  vast  estates 
from  the  confiscated  lands  of  Lancastrians,  and  by  his  elevation  to  the 
highest  posts  in  the  service  of  the  State.  He  was  captain  of  Calais, 
admiral  of  the  fleet  in  the  Channel,  and  Warden  of  the  Western 
Marches.  This  personal  power  was  backed  by  the  power  of  the  House 
of  Neville,  of  which  he  was  the  head.  The  command  of  the  northern 
border  lay  in  the  hands  of  his  brother.  Lord  Montagu,  who  received  as 
his  share  of  the  spoil  the  forfeited  Earldom  of  Northumberland  and  the 
estates  of  his  hereditary  rivals,  the  Percies.  A  younger  brother,  George 
Neville,  was  raised  to  the  See  of  York  and  the  post  of  Lord  Chancellor. 
Lesser  rewards  fell  to  his  uncles,  Lords  Falconberg,  Abergavenny,  and 
Latimer.  The  vast  power  which  such  an  accumulation  of  wealth  and 
honours  placed  at  the  Earl's  disposal  was  wielded  with  consummate 
ability.  In  outer  seeming  Warwick  was  the  very  type  of  the  feudal 
baron.  He  could  raise  armies  at  his  call  from  his  own  earldoms.  Six 
hundred  liveried  retainers  followed  him  to  Parliament.  Thousands  of 
dependants  feasted  in  his  courtyard.  But  few  men  were  really  further 
from  the  feudal  ideal.  Active  and  ruthless  warrior  as  he  was,  his 
enemies  denied  to  the  Earl  the  gift  of  personal  daring  In  war  he  was 
rather  general  than  soldier.  His  genius  in  fact  was  not  so  much  military 
as  diplomatic  ;  what  he  excelled  in  was  intrigue,  treachery,  the  contriv- 
ance of  plots,  and  sudden  desertions.  And  in  the  boy -king  whom  he  had 
raised  to  the  throne  he  met  not  merely  a  consummate  general,  but  a 
j)olitician  whose  subtlety  and  rapidity  of  conception  was  destined  to 
leave  a  deep  and  enduring  mark  on  the  character  of  the  monarchy  iiseP. 
Edward  was  but  nineteen  at  his  accession,  and  both  his  kinship  (for  he 
was  the  King's  cousin  by  blood)  and  his  recent  services  rendered  War- 
wick during  the  first  three  years  of  his  reign  all-powerful  in  the  State 
But  the  final  ruin  of  Henry's  cause  in  the  battle  of  Hexham  gave  the 
sij;nal  for  a  silent  struggle  between  the  Earl  and  his  young  Sovereign. 
Edward's  first  step  was  to  avow  his  union  with  the  widow  of  a  slain 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


:.87 


Lancastrian,  Dame  Elizabeth  Grey,  at  the  very  moment  when  Warwick 
was  negotiating  for  him  a  French  marriage.  Her  family,  the  Wood- 
villes,  were  raised  to  greatness  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  Nevilles  ;  her 
father.  Lord  Rivers,  became  treasurer  and  constable ;  her  son  by  the  first 
marriage  was  betrothed  to  the  heiress  of  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  whom 
Warwick  sought  for  his  nephew.  Warwick's  policy  lay  in  a  close  con- 
nexion with  France  ;  foiled  in  his  first  project,  he  now  pressed  for  a  mar- 
riage of  the  King's  sister,  Margaret,  with  a  French  prince,  but  in  1467, 
while  he  crossed  the  sea  to  treat  with  Lewis,  Edward  availed  himself  of 
his  absence  to  deprive  his  brother  of  the  seals,  and  prepared  to  wed 
Margaret  to  the  sworn  enemy  both  of  France  and  of  Warwick,  Charles 
the  Bold,  Duke  of  Burgundy.  Warwick  replied  to  Edward's  challenge 
by  a  plot  to  rally  the  discontented  Yorkists  round  ihe  King's  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Clarence.  Secret  negotiations  ended  in  the  marriage  of  his 
daughter  to  Clarence  ;  and  a  revolt  which  instantly  broke  out  threw 
Edward  into  the  hands  of  his  great  subject.  But  the  bold  scheme  broke 
down.  The  Yorkist  nobles  demanded  the  King's  liberation.  Warwick 
could  look  for  support  only  to  the  Lancastrians,  but  the  Lancastrians  de- 
manded Henry's  restoration  as  the  price  of  their  aid.  Such  a  demand  was 
fatal  to  the  plan  for  placing  Clarence  on  the  throne,  and  Warwick  was 
thrown  back  on  a  formal  reconciliation  with  the  King.  A  new  rising  broke 
out  in  the  following  spring  in  Lincolnshire.  The  King,  however,  was  now 
ready  for  the  strife.  A  rapid  march  to  the  north  ended  in  the  rout  of  the 
insurgents,  ana  Edward  turned  on  the  instigators  of  the  revolt.  But 
Clarence  and  the  Earl  could  gather  no  force  to  meet  him.  Yorkist  and 
Lancastrian  alike  held  aloof,  and  they  were  driven  to  flight.  Calais, 
though  held  by  Warwick's  deputy,  repulsed  them  from  its  walls,  and  the 
Earl's  fleet  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  France,  where  the  Burgundian 
connexion  of  Edward  secured  his  enemies  the  support  of  Lewis  the 
Eleventh.  But  the  unscrupulous  temper  of  the  Earl  was  seen  in  the 
alliance  which  he  at  once  concluded  with  the  partizans  of  the  House  of 
Lancaster.  On  the  promise  of  Queen  Margaret  to  wed  her  son  to  his 
daughter  Anne,  Warwick  eng  iged  to  restore  the  crown  to  the  royal 
captive  whom  he  had  flung  into  the  Tower  ;  and  choosing  a  moment, 
when  Edward  was  busy  with  a  revolt  in  the  North,  and  when  a  storm 
had  dispersed  the  Burgundian  fleet  which  defended  the  Channel,  he 
threw  himself  boldly  on  the  English  shore.  His  army  grew  as  he  pushed 
northward,  and  the  desertion  of  Lord  Montagu,  whom  Edward  still 
trusted,  drove  the  King  in  turn  to  seek  shelter  over  sea.  While  Edward 
fled  with  a  handful  of  adherents  to  beg  help  from  Charles  the  Bold, 
Henry  of  Lancaster  was  again  conducted  from  his  prison  to  the  throne, 
but  the  bitter  hate  of  the  party  Warwick  had  so  ruthlessly  crushed  found 
no  gratitude  for  the  "  King  Maker."  His  own  conduct,  as  well  as  that  of 
his  party,  when  Edward  again  disembarked  in  the  spring  at  Ravenspur, 
showed  a  weariness  of  the  new  alhance,  quickened  perhaps  by  their  ^ 


288 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA^. 


Sec.  II. 


TO 

24.71 


April  14, 
1471 


Death  of 
Henry 

May  ^ 


dread  of  Margaret,  whose  return  to  England  was  hourly  expected. 
Passing  through  the  Lancastrian  districts  of  the  North  with  a  declara- 
tion that  he  waived  all  right  to  the  crown  and  sought  only  his  own 
hereditary  dukedom,  Edward  was  left  unassailed  by  a  force  which 
Montagu  had  collected,  and  was  joined  on  his  march  by  his  brother 
Clarence,  who  had  throughout  acted  in  concert  with  Warwick.  En- 
camped at  Coventry,  the  Earl  himself  contemplated  a  similar  treason, 
but  the  coming  of  two  Lancastrian  leaders  put  an  end  to  the  negotia- 
tions. When  Montagu  joined  his  brother,  Edward  marched  on  London, 
follow  by  Warwick's  army  ;  its  gates  were  opened  by  the  perfidy  of  the 
Earl's  brother,  Archbishop  Neville  ;  and  Henry  of  Lancaster  passed 
anew  to  the  Tower.  The  battle  of  Barnet,  a  medley  of  carnage  and 
treachery  which  lasted  three  hours,  ended  with  the  fall  of  Warwick,  who 
was  charged  with  cowardly  flight.  Margaret  had  landed  too  late  to 
bring  aid  to  her  great  partizan,  but  the  military  triumph  of  Edward  was 
completed  by  the  skilful  strategy  with  which  he  forced  her  army  to 
battle  at  Tewkesbury,  and  by  its  complete  overthrow.  The  Queen  her- 
self became  a  captive  ;  her  boy  fell  on  the  field,  stabbed — as  was 
affirmed — by  the  Yorkist  lords  after  Edward  had  met  his  cry  for  mercy 
by  a  buffet  from  his  gauntlet  ;  and  the  death  of  Henry  in  the  Tower 
crushed  the  last  hopes  of  the  House  of  Lancaster. 


Section  III.— The  New  Monarchy.     1471— 1509. 

[Aulhoritics. — Edward  V.  is  the  subject  of  a  work  attributed  to  Sir  Thomas 
More,  and  wliich  aim  st  certainly  derives  much  of  its  information  from  Arch- 
bishop Mo'ton.  Whatever  its  hi^torical  worth  may  be,  it  is  remarkable  in  its 
English  form  as  the  first  historical  work  of  any  literary  value  which  we  possess 
written  in  our  modern  prose.  The  "  Letters  and  Papers  of  Richard  IH.  and 
Henry  VII.,"  some  "Memorials  of  Henry  VII.,"  includinjj  his  life  by  Bernard 
Andre  of  Toulouse,  and  a  volume  of  "Materials"  for  a  hi  tc^ry  of  his  reign 
have  been  edited  for  the  Rolls  Series.  A  biography  of  Henry  is  among  the 
works  of  Lord  Bacon.  Halle's  Chronicle  extends  from  Ilenry  IV.  to 
Henry  VIII.  Miss  Halstead,  in  her  '*  Life  of  Richard  HI.,"  has  elaborately 
illustrated  a  reign  of  some  constitutional  importance.  For  Caxton,  see  the 
biography  by  Mr.  Blades.] 

1  here  are  few  periods  in  our  annals  from  which  wc  turn  with  such 
weariness  and  disgust  as  from  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  Their  savage 
battles,  their  ruthless  executions,  their  shameless  treasons,  seem  all 
the  more  terrible  from  the  pure  selfishness  of  the  ends  for  which  men 
fought,  the  utter  want  of  all  nobleness  and  chivalry  in  the  struggle 
itself,  of  all  great  result  in  its  close.  But  even  while  the  contest  was 
raging  the  cool  eye  of  a  philosophic  statesman  could  find  in  it  matter 
for  other  feelings  than  those  of  mere  disgust.  England  presented  to 
Philippe  dc  Commines  the  rare  spectacle  of  a  land  where,  brutal  as 
was  the  civil  strife,  "  there  are  no  buildings  destroyed  or  demolished 


VI.  J 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


389 


by  war,  and  where  the  mischief  of  it  falls  on  those  who  make  the  war." 
The  ruin  and  bloodshed  were  limited,  in  fact,  to  the  great  lords  and 
their  feudal  retainers.  Once  or  twice  indeed,  as  at  Towton,  the  towns 
threw  themselves  into  the  struggle,  but  for  the  most  part  the  trading 
and  agricultural  classes  stood  wholly  apart  from  it.  Slowly  but  surely 
the  foreign  commerce  of  the  country,  hitherto  conducted  by  the  Italian, 
the  Hanse  merchant,  or  the  trader  of  Catalonia  or  southern  Gaul,  was 
passing  into  English  hands.  English  merchants  were  settled  at 
Florence  and  at  Venice.  English  merchant  ships  appeared  in  the 
Baltic.  The  first  faint  upgrowth  of  manufactures  was  seen  in  a  crowd 
of  protective  statutes  which  formed  a  marked  feature  in  the  legislation 
of  Edward  the  Fourth.  The  general  tranquillity  of  the  country  at  large, 
while  the  baronage  was  dashing  itself  to  pieces  in  battle  after  battle, 
was  shown  by  the  remarkable  fact  that  justice  remained  wholly  undis- 
turbed. The  law  courts  sate  at  Westminster.  The  judges  rode  on 
circuit  as  of  old.  The  system  of  jury-trial  took  more  and  more  its 
modern  form  by  the  separation  of  the  jurors  from  the  witnesses.  But 
if  the  common  view  of  England  during  these  Wars  as  a  mere  chaos  of 
treason  and  bloodshed  is  a  false  one,  still  more  false  is  the  common 
view  of  the  pettiness  of  their  result.  The  Wars  of  the  Roses  did 
far  more  than  ruin  one  royal  house  or  set  up  another  on  the  throne. 
If  they  did  not  utterly  destroy  English  freedom,  they  arrested  its 
Drogress  for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  They  found  England,  in  the 
words  of  Commines,  "among  all  the  world's  lordships  of  which  I 
have  knowledge,  that  where  the  public  weal  is  best  ordered,  and  where 
least  violence  reigns  over  the  people."  A  King  of  England — the 
shrewd  observer  noticed — "  can  undertake  no  enterprise  of  account 
without  assembling  his  Parliament,  which  is  a  thing  most  wise  and 
holy,  and  therefore  are  these  Kings  stronger  and  better  served" 
than  the  despotic  sovereigns  of  the  Continent.  The  English  1  ingship, 
as  a  judge.  Sir  John  Fortescue,  could  boast  when  writing  at  this  time, 
was  not  an  absolute  but  a  limited  monarchy  ;  the  land  was  not  a  land 
where  the  will  of  the  prince  was  itself  the  law,  but  where  the  prince 
could  neither  make  laws  nor  impose  taxes  save  by  his  subjects'  con- 
sent. At  no  time  had  Parliament  played  so  constant  and  prominent 
a  part  in  the  government  of  the  realm.  At  no  time  had  the  principles 
of  constitutional  liberty  seemed  so  thoroughly  understood  and  so  dear 
to  the  people  at  large.  The  long  Parliamentary  contest  between  the 
Crown  and  the  two  Houses  since  the  days  of  Edward  the  First  had 
firmly  established  the  great  securities  of  national  liberty — the  right  of 
freedom  from  arbitrary  taxation,  from  arbitrary  legislation,  from 
arbitrary  imprisonment,  and  the  responsibility  of  even  the  highest 
servants  of  the  Crown  to  Parliament  and  to  the  law.  But  with  the  close 
of  the  struggle  for  the  succession  this  liberty  suddenly  disappears. 
We  enter  on  an  epoch  of  constitutional  retrogression  in  which  the 

L 


290 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  III. 

Thk  Nbw 
Monarchy 

14.71 

TO 

1509 


The 
Causes 
of  the 

Monarchy 


slow  work  of  the  age  that  went  before  it  was  rapidly  undone.  Parlia- 
mentary life  was  almost  suspended,  or  was  turned  into  a  mere  form  by 
the  overpowering  influence  of  the  Crown.  The  legislative  powers  of 
the  two  Houses  were  usurped  by  the  royal  Council.  Arbitrary  taxation 
re-appeared  in  benevolences  and  forced  loans.  Personal  liberty  was 
almost  extinguished  by  a  formidable  spy-system  and  by  the  constant 
practice  of  arbitrary  imprisonment.  Justice  was  degraded  by  the  pro- 
digal use  of  bills  of  attainder,  by  the  wide  extension  of  the  judicial 
power  of  the  Royal  Council,  by  the  servility  of  judges,  by  the  coercion 
of  Juries.  So  vast  and  sweeping  was  the  change  that  to  careless  ob- 
servers of  a  later  day  the  constitutional  monarchy  of  the  Edwards  and 
the  Henries  seemed  suddenly  to  have  transformed  itself  under  the 
Tudors  into  a  despotism  as  complete  as  the  despotism  of  the  Turk. 
Such  a  view  is  no  doubt  exaggerated  and  unjust.  Bend  and  stram  the 
law  as  he  might,  there  never  was  a  time  when  the  most  wilful  of  Eng- 
lish rulers  failed  to  own  the  restraints  of  law ;  and  the  obedience  of  the 
most  servile  among  English  subjects  lay  within  bounds,  at  once  poli- 
tical and  religious,  which  no  theory  of  King-worship  could  bring  them 
to  overpass.  But  even  if  we  make  these  reserves,  the  character  of  the 
Monarchy  from  the  time  of  Edward  the  Fourth  to  the  time  of  Elizabeth 
remains  something  strange  and  isolated  in  our  history.  It  is  hard  to 
connect  the  kingship  of  the  old  English,  ot  the  Norman,  the  Angevin, 
or  the  Plantagenet  Kings,  with  the  kingship  of  the  House  of  York  or  of 
the  House  of  Tudor. 

If  we  seek  a  reason  for  so  sudden  and  complete  a  revolution,  we  find 
it  in  the  disappearance  of  that  organization  of  society  in  which  our 
constitutional  liberty  had  till  now  found  its  security.  Freedom  had 
been  won  by  the  sword  of  the  Baronage.  Its  tradition  had  been 
watched  over  by  the  jealousy  of  the  Church.  The  new  class  of  the 
Commons  which  had  grown  from  the  union  of  the  country  squire  and 
the  town  trader  was  widening  its  sphere  of  political  activity  as  it  grew. 
But  at  the  close  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  these  older  checks  no  longer 
served  as  restraints  upon  the  action  of  the  Crown.  The  baronage  had 
fallen  more  and  more  into  decay.  The  Church  lingered  helpless  and 
perplexed,  till  it  was  struck  down  by  Thomas  Cromwell.  The  traders 
and  the  smaller  proprietors  sank  into  political  inactivity.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Crown,  which  only  fifty  years  before  had  been  the  sport  of 
every  faction,  towered  into  solitary  greatness.  The  old  English  king- 
ship, limited  by  the  forces  of  feudalism  or  of  the  religious  sanctions 
wielded  by  the  priesthood,  or  by  the  progress  of  constitutional  free- 
dom, faded  suddenly  away,  and  in  its  place  we  see,  all-absorbing  and 
unrestrained,  the  despotism  of  the  new  Monarchy.  Revolutionary  as  the 
change  was,  however,  we  have  already  seen  in  their  gradual  growth  the 
causes  which  brought  it  about.  The  social  organization  from  which  our 
political  constitution  had  hitherto  sprung  and  on  which  it  still  rested 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


291 


had  been  silently  sapped  by  the  progress  of  industry,  by  the  growth  of 
spiritual  and  intellectual  enlightenment,  and  by  changes  in  the  ait  of 
war.  Its  ruin  was  precipitated  by  the  new  attitude  of  men  towards  the 
Church,  by  the  disfranchisement  of  the  Commons,  and  by  the  decline 
of  the  Baronage.  Of  the  great  houses  some  were  extinct,  others  lingered 
only  in  obscure  branches  which  were  mere  shadows  of  their  former 
greatness.  With  the  exception  of  the  Poles,  the  Stanleys,  and  the 
Howards,  themselves  families  of  recent  origin,  hardly  a  fragment  of 
the  older  baronage  interfered  from  this  time  in  the  work  of  government. 
Neither  the  Church  nor  the  smaller  proprietors  of  the  country,  who 
with  the  merchant  classes  formed  the  Commons,  were  ready  to  take  the 
place  of  the  ruined  nobles.  Imposing  as  the  great  ecclesiastical  body 
still  seemed  from  the  memories  of  its  past,  its  immense  wealth,  its 
tradition  of  statesmanship,  it  was  rendered  powerless  by  a  want  of 
spiritual  enthusiasm,  by  a  moral  inertness,  by  its  antagonism  to  the 
deeper  religious  convictions  of  the  people,  and  its  blind  hostility  to  the 
intellectual  movement  which  was  beginning  to  stir  the  world.  Some- 
what of  their  old  independence  lingered  indeed  among  the  lower  clergy 
and  the  monastic  orders,  but  it  was  through  its  prelates  that  the  Church 
exercised  a  directly  political  influence,  and  these  showed  a  different 
temper  from  the  clergy.  Driven  by  sheer  need,  by  the  attack  of  the 
barons  on  their  temporal  possessions,  and  of  the  Lollards  on  their 
spiritual  authority,  into  dependence  on  the  Crown,  they  threw  their 
weight  on  the  side  of  the  King  with  the  simple  view  of  averting  by 
means  of  the  Monarchy  the  pillage  of  the  Church.  But  in  any  wider 
political  sense  the  influence  of  the  body  to  which  they  belonged  was 
insignificant.  It  is  less  obvious  at  first  sight  why  the  Commons  should 
share  the  political  ruin  of  the  Church  and  the  Lords,  for  the  smaller 
county  proprietors  were  growing  fast,  both  in  wealth  and  numbers,  while 
the  burgess  class,  as  we  have  seen,  was  deriving  fresh  riches  from  the 
developement  of  trade.  But  the  result  of  the  narrowing  of  the  franchise 
and  of  the  tampering  with  elections  was  now  felt  in  the  political 
insignificance  of  the  Lower  House.  Reduced  by  these  measures  to  a 
virtual  dependence  on  the  baronage,  it  fell  with  the  fall  of  the  class  to 
which  it  looked  for  guidance  and  support.  And  while  its  rival  forces 
disappeared,  the  Monarchy  stood  ready  to  take  their  place.  Not  only 
indeed  were  the  churchman,  the  squire,  and  the  burgess  powerless 
to  vindicate  liberty  against  the  Crown,  but  the  very  interests  of  self- 
preservation  led  them  at  this  moment  to  lay  freedom  at  its  feet. 
The  Church  still  trembled  at  the  progress  of  heresy.  The  close 
corporations  of  the  towns  needed  protection  for  their  privileges.  The 
landowner  shared  with  the  trader  a  profound  horror  of  the  war  and 
disorder  which  they  had  witnessed,  and  an  almost  reckless  desire  to 
entrust  the  Crown  with  any  power  which  would  prevent  its  return. 
But  above  all,  the  landed  and  monied  classes  clung  passionately  to  the 


292 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Monarchy,  as  the  one  great  force  left  which  could  save  them  from 
social  revolt.  The  rising  of  the  Commons  of  Kent  shows  that  the 
troubles  against  which  the  Statutes  of  Labourers  had  been  directed 
still  remained  as  a  formidable  source  of  discontent.  The  great  change 
in  the  character  of  agriculture  indeed,  which  we  have  before  described, 
the  throwing  together  of  the  smaller  holdings,  the  d  minution  of 
tillage,  the  increase  of  pasture  lands,  had  tended  largely  to  swell 
the  numbers  and  turbulence  of  the  floating  labour  class.  The  riots 
against  "enclosures,"  of  which  we  first  hear  in  the  time  of  Henry  the 
Sixth,  and  which  became  a  constant  feature  of  the  Tudor  period,  are 
indications  not  only  of  a  constant  strife  going  on  in  every  quarter 
between  the  landowner  and  the  smaller  peasant  class,  but  of  a  mass 
of  social  discontent  which  was  constantly  seeking  an  outlet  in 
violence  and  revolution.  And  at  this  moment  the  break-up  of  the 
military  households  of  the  nobles,  and  the  return  of  wounded  and  dis- 
abled soldiers  from  the  wars,  added  a  new  element  of  violence  and 
disorder  to  the  seething  mass.  It  was  in  truth  this  social  danger  which 
lay  at  the  root  of  the  Tudor  despotism.  For  the  proprietary  classes  the 
repression  of  the  poor  was  a  question  of  life  and  death.  Employer  and 
proprietor  were  ready  to  surrender  freedom  into  the  hands  of  the  one 
power  which  could  preserve  them  from  social  anarchy.  It  was  to  the 
selfish  panic  of  the  landowners  that  England  owed  the  Statute  of 
Labourers  and  its  terrible  heritage  of  pauperism.  It  was  to  the  selfish 
panic  of  both  landowner  and  merchant  that  she  owed  the  despotism  of 
the  Monarchy. 

The  founder  of  the  new  Monarchy  was  Edward  the  Fourth.  As  a 
mere  boy  he  showed  himself  among  the  ablest  and  the  most  pitiless 
of  the  warriors  of  the  civil  war.  In  the  first  flush  of  manhood  he 
looked  on  with  a  cool  ruthlessness  while  grey-haired  nobles  were 
hurried  to  the  block.  In  his  later  race  for  power  he  had  shown  him- 
self more  subtle  in  his  treachery  than  even  Warwick  himself.  His 
triumph  was  no  sooner  won  however  than  the  young  King  seemed 
to  abandon  himself  to  a  voluptuous  indolence,  to  revels  with  the  city- 
wives  of  London  and  the  caresses  of  mistresses  like  Jane  Shore.  Tall 
in  stature  and  of  singular  beauty,  his  winning  manners  and  gay  care- 
lessness of  bearing  secured  him  a  popularity  which  had  been  denied 
to  nobler  kings.  But  his  indolence  and  gaiety  were  mere  veils  beneath 
which  Edward  shrouded  a  profound  political  ability.  No  one  could 
contrast  more  utterly  in  outward  appearance  with  the  subtle  sovereiga^ 
of  his  time,  with  Louis  the  Eleventh  or  Ferdinand  of  Aragon,  but  his 
work  was  the  same  as  theirs,  and  it  was  done  as  completely.  While 
jesting  with  aldermen,  or  dallying  with  his  mistresses,  or  idling  over 
the  new  pages  from  the  printing-press  at  Westminster,  Edward  was 
silently  laying  the  foundations  of  an  absolute  rule.  The  almost  total 
discontinuance  of  Parliamentary  life  was  in  itself  a  revolution.     Up 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


293 


to  this  moment  the  two  Houses  had  played  a  part  which  became  more 
and  more  prominent  in  the  government  of  the  reahn.  Under  the 
two  first  Kings  of  the  House  of  Lancaster  Parliament  had  been  sum- 
moned almost  every  year.  Not  only  had  the  right  of  self-taxation  and 
initiation  of  laws  been  yielded  explicitly  to  the  Commons,  but  they 
had  interfered  with  the  administration  of  the  State,  had  directed  the 
application  of  subsidies,  and  called  royal  ministers  to  account  by 
repeated  instances  of  impeachment.  Under  Henry  the  Sixth  an  im- 
portant step  in  constitutional  progress  had  been  made  by  abandoning 
the  old  form  of  presenting  the  requests  of  the  Parliament  in  the  form 
of  petitions  which  were  subsequently  moulded  into  statutes  by  the 
Royal  Council ;  the  statute  itself,  in  its  final  form,  was  now  presented 
for  the  royal  assent,  and  the  Crown  was  deprived  of  its  former 
privilege  of  modifying  it.  But  with  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Fourth 
not  only  does  this  progress  cease,  but  the  very  action  of  Parliament  itself 
comes  almost  to  an  end.  For  the  first  time  since  the  days  of  John  not 
a  single  law  which  promoted  freedom  or  remedied  the  abuses  of  power 
was  even  proposed.  The  necessity  for  summoning  the  two  Houses 
had,  in  fact,  been  removed  by  the  enormous  tide  of  wealth  which  the 
confiscations  of  the  civil  war  poured  into  the  royal  treasury.  In  the 
single  bill  of  attainder  which  followed  the  victory  of  Towton,  twelve 
great  nobles  and  more  than  a  hundred  knights  and  squires  were 
stripped  of  their  estates  to  the  King's  profit.  It  was  said  that  nearly 
a  fifth  of  the  land  had  passed  into  the  royal  possession  at  one  period 
or  another  of  the  civil  war.  A  grant  of  the  customs  was  given  to  the 
King  for  life.  Edward  added  to  his  resources  by  trading  on  a  vast 
scale.  The  royal  ships,  freighted  with  tin,  wool,  and  cloth,  made  the 
name  of  the  merchant-king  famous  in  the  ports  of  Italy  and  Greece. 
The  enterprises  he  planned  against  France,  though  frustrated  by  the 
refusal  of  Charles  of  Burgundy  to  co-operate  with  him  in  them, 
afforded  a  fresh  financial  resource  ;  and  the  subsidies  granted  for  a 
war  which  never  took  place  swelled  the  royal  exchequer.  But  the 
pretext  of  war  enabled  Edward  not  only  to  increase  his  hoard,  but  to 
deal  a  deadly  blow  at  the  liberty  which  the  Commons  had  won. 
Setting  aside  the  usage  of  contracting  loans  by  the  authority  of  Parlia- 
ment, Edward  called  before  him  the  merchants  of  London  and 
requested  from  each  a  gift  or  "  benevolence,"  in  proportion  to  the 
royal  needs.  The  exaction  was  bitterly  resented  even  by  the  classes 
with  whom  the  King  had  been  most  popular,  but  for  the  moment  re- 
sistance was  fruitless,  and  the  system  of  "benevolence"  was  soon  to 
be  developed  into  the  forced  loans  of  Wolsey  and  of  Charles  the  First. 
It  was  to  Edward  that  his  Tudor  successors  owed  the  introduction  of 
an  elaborate  spy-system,  the  use  of  the  rack,  and  the  practice  of 
interference  with  the  purity  of  justice.  In  the  history  of  intellectual 
progress  alone  his  reign  takes  a  brighter  colour,  and  the  founder  of 


294 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


a  new  despotism  presents  a  claim  to  our  regard  as  the  patron  of 
Caxton. 

Literature  indeed  seemed  at  this  moment  to  have  died  as  utterly  as 
freedom  itself.  The  genius  of  Chaucer,  and  of  the  one  or  more 
poets  whose  works  have  been  confounded  with  Chaucer's,  defied  for 
a  while  the  pedantry,  the  affectation,  the  barrenness  of  their  age  ; 
but  the  sudden  close  of  this  poetic  outburst  left  England  to  a 
crowd  of  poetasters,  compilers,  scribblers  of  interminable  moralities, 
rimers  of  chronicles,  and  translators  from  the  worn-out  field "  of 
French  romance.  Some  faint  trace  of  the  liveliness  and  beauty  of 
older  models  lingers  among  the  heavy  platitudes  of  Gower,  but 
even  this  vanished  from  the  didactic  puerilities,  the  prosaic  com- 
monplaces, of  Occleve  and  Lydgate.  The  literature  of  the 
Middle  Ages  was  dying  out  with  the  Middle  Ages  themselves ;  in 
letters  as  in  hfe  their  thirst  for  knowledge  had  spent  itself  in  the 
barren  mazes  of  the  scholastic  philosophy,  their  ideal  of  warlike  noble- 
ness faded  away  before  the  gaudy  travestie  of  a  spurious  chivalry, 
and  the  mystic  enthusiasm  of  their  devotion  shrank  at  the  touch  ol 
persecution  into  a  narrow  orthodoxy  and  a  flat  morality.  The  clergy^ 
who  had  concentrated  in  themselves  the  intellectual  effort  of  the  oldei 
time,  were  ceasing  to  be  an  intellectual  class  at  all.  The  monasterief 
were  no  longer  seats  of  learning.  "  I  found  in  them,"  said  Poggio,  an 
Italian  traveller  twenty  years  after  Chaucer's  death,  "  men  given  up  tc 
sensuality  in  abundance,  but  very  few  lovers  of  learning,  and  those  of 
a  barbarous  sort,  skilled  more  in  quibbles  and  sophisms  than  in 
literature."  The  erection  of  colleges,  which  was  beginning,  failed  to 
arrest  the  quick  dechne  of  the  universities  both  in  the  numbers  and 
learning  of  their  students.  Those  at  Oxford  amounted  to  only  a  fifth 
of  the  scholars  who  had  attended  its  lectures  a  century  before,  and 
"Oxford  Latin"  became  proverbial  for  a  jargon  in  which  the  very 
tradition  of  grammar  had  been  lost.  All  literary  production  was  nearly 
at  an  end.  Historical  composition  lingered  on  indeed  in  compilations 
of  extracts  from  past  writers,  such  as  make  up  the  so-called  works  of 
Walsingham,  in  jejune  monastic  annals,  or  worthless  popular  com- 
pendiums.  But  the  only  real  trace  of  mental  activity  is  to  be  found  in 
the  numerous  treatises  on  alchemy  and  magic,  on  the  elixir  of  life  or 
the  philosopher's  stone,  a  fungous  growth  which  most  unequivocally 
witnesses  to  the  progress  of  intellectual  decay.  On  the  other  hand, 
while  the  older  literary  class  was  dying  out,  a  glance  beneath  the 
surface  shows  us  the  stir  of  a  new  interest  in  knowledge  among  the 
masses  of  the  people  itself.  1  he  correspondence  of  the  Paston  family, 
which  has  been  happily  preserved,  not  only  displays  a  fluency  and 
vivacity  as  well  as  a  grammatical  correctness  which  would  have  been 
impossible  in  familiar  letters  a  few  years  before,  but  shews  country 
squires  discussing  about  books  and  gathering  libraries.      The  very 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


295 


character  of  the  authorship  of  the  time,  its  love  of  compendiums  and 
abridgements  of  the  scientific  and  historical  knowledge  of  its  day,  its 
dramatic  performances  or  mysteries,  the  commonplace  morality  of  its 
poets,  the  popularity  of  its  rimed  chronicles,  are  additional  proofs  that 
literature  was  ceasing  to  be  the  possession  of  a  purely  intellectual  class 
and  was  beginning  to  appeal  to  the  people  at  large.  The  increased 
use  of  linen  paper  in  place  of  the  costlier  parchment  helped  in  the 
popularization  of  letters.  In  no  former  age  had  finer  copies  of  books 
been  produced  ;  in  none  had  so  many  been  transcribed.  This  in- 
creased demand  for  their  production  caused  the  processes  of  copying 
and  illuminating  manuscripts  to  be  transferred  from  the  scriptoria 
of  the  religious  houses  into  the  hands  of  trade-gilds,  like  the  Gild  of 
St.  John  at  Bruges,  or  the  Brothers  of  the  Pen  at  Brussels.  It  was, 
in  fact,  this  increase  of  demand  for  books,  pamphlets,  or  fly-sheets, 
especially  of  a  grammatical  or  religious  character,  in  the  middle-  of 
the  fifteenth  century  that  brought  about  the  introduction  of  printing. 
We  meet  with  it  first  in  rude  sheets  simply  struck  off  from  wooden 
blocks,  "  block-books  "  as  they  are  now  called,  and  later  on  in  works 
printed  from  separate  and  moveable  types.  Originating  at  Maintz 
with  the  three  famous  printers,  Gutenberg,  Fust,  and  Schceffer,  the 
new  process  travelled  southward  to  Strasburg,  crossed  the  .Alps  to 
Venice,  where  it  lent  itself  through  the  Aldi  to  the  spread  of  Greek 
literature  in  Europe,  and  then  floated  down  the  Rhine  to  the  towns  of 
Flanders.  It  was  probably  at  the  press  of  Colard  Mansion,  in  a  little 
room  over  the  porch  of  St.  Donat's  at  Bruges,  that  Caxton  learnt  the 
art  which  he  was  the  first  to  introduce  into  England. 

A  Kentish  boy  by  birth,  but  apprenticed  to  a  London  mercer, 
William  Caxton  had  already  spent  thirty  years  of  his  manhood  in 
Flanders,  as  Governor  of  the  English  gild  of  Merchant  Adventurers 
there,  when  we  find  him  engaged  as  copyist  in  the  service  of  Edward's 
sister,  Duchess  Margaret  of  Burgundy.  But  the  tedious  process  of  copy- 
ing was  soon  thrown  aside  for  the  new  art  which  Colard  Mansion  had 
introduced  into  Bruges.  "  For  as  much  as  in  the  writing  of  the  same," 
Caxton  tells  us  in  the  preface  to  his  first  printed  work,  the  Tales  of 
Troy,  "  my  pen  is  worn,  my  hand  weary  and  not  steadfast,  mine  eyes 
dimmed  with  over  much  looking  on  the  white  paper,  and  my  courage 
not  so  prone  and  ready  to  labour  as  it  hath  been,  and  that  age  creepeth 
on  me  daily  and  feebleth  all  the  body,  and  also  because  I  have  pro- 
mised to  divers  gentlemen  and  to  my  friends  to  address  to  them  as 
hastily  as  I  might  the  said  book,  therefore  I  have  practised  and  learned 
at  my  great  charge  and  dispense  to  ordain  this  said  book  in  print  after 
the  manner  and  form  as  ye  may  see,  and  is  not  written  with  pen  and 
ink  as  other  books  be,  to  the  end  that  every  man  may  have  them  at 
once,  for  all  the  books  of  this  story  here  emprynted  as  ye  see  were 
begun  in  one  day  and  also  finished  in  one  day."     The  printing  press 


296 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP 


Sec.  III. 


Oaxton'i 

Transla> 

tions 


was  the  precious  freight  he  brought  back  to  England,  after  an  absence 
of  five-and-thirty  years.  Through  the  next  fifteen,  at  an  age  when 
other  men  look  for  ease  and  retirement,  we  see  him  plunging  with 
characteristic  energy  into  his  new  occupation.  His  "red  pale,"  or 
heraldic  shield  marked  with  a  red  bar  down  the  middle,  invited  buyers 
to  the  press  established  in  the  Almonry  at  Westminster,  a  little 
enclosure  containing  a  chapel  and  almshouses  near  the  west  front  of 
the  church,  where  the  alms  of  the  abbey  were  distributed  to  the  poor. 
"If  it  please  any  man,  spiritual  or  temporal,"  runs  his  advertisement, 
"  to  buy  any  pyes  of  two  or  three  commemorations  of  Salisbury  all 
empryntcd  after  the  form  of  the  present  letter,  which  be  well  and  truly 
correct,  let  him  come  to  Westminster  into  the  Almonry  at  the  red 
pale,  and  he  shall  have  them  good  chepe."  He  was  a  practical  man 
of  business,  as  thi  advertisement  shows,  no  rival  of  the  Venetian 
Aldi  or  of  the  classic. .1  printers  of  Rome,  but  resolved  to  get  a  living 
from  his  trade,  supplying  priests  with  service  books,  and  preachers 
with  sermons,  furnishing  the  clerk  with  his  "  Golden  Legend,"  and 
knight  and  baron  with  "joyous  and  pleasant  histories  of  chivalry." 
But  while  careful  to  win  his  daily  bread,  he  found  time  to  do  much  for 
what  of  higher  literature  lay  fairly  to  hand.  He  printed  all  the 
English  poetry  of  any  moment  which  was  then  in  existence.  His 
reverence  for  "  that  worshipful  man,  Geoffry  Chaucer,"  who  "  ought  to 
be  eternally  remembered,"  is  shown  not  merely  by  his  edition  of  the 
"  Canterbury  Tales,"  but  by  his  reprint  of  them  when  a  purer  text  of 
the  I  oem  offered  itself.  The  poems  of  Lydgate  and  Gower  were  added 
to  those  of  Chaucer.  The  Chronicle  of  Brut  and  Higden's  "  Poly- 
chronicon  "  were  the  only  available  works  of  an  historical  character 
then  existing  in  the  English  tongue,  and  Caxton  not  only  printed  them 
but  himself  continued  the  latter  up  to  his  own  time.  A  translation  of 
Boethius,  a  version  of  the  ^neid  from  the  French,  and  a  tract  or 
two  of  Cicero,  were  the  stray  first-fruits  of  the  classical  press  in 
England. 

Busy  as  was  Caxton's  printing-press,  he  was  even  busier  as  a  trans 
lator  than  as  a  printer.  More  than  four  thousand  of  his  printed  pages 
are  from  works  of  his  own  rendering.  The  need  of  these  translations 
shows  the  popular  drift  of  literature  at  the  time  ;  but  keen  as  the 
demand  seems  to  have  been,  there  is  nothing  mechanical  in  the  temper 
with  which  Caxton  prepared  to  meet  it.  A  natural,  simple-hearted 
literary  taste  and  enthusiasm,  especially  for  the  style  and  forms  o! 
language,  breaks  out  in  his  curious  prefaces.  "  Having  no  work  in 
hand,"  he  says  in  the  preface  to  his  Eneid,  "  I  sitting  in  my  study 
where  as  lay  many  divers  pamphlets  and  books,  happened  that  to  my 
hand  came  a  little  book  in  French,  which  late  was  translated  out  of 
Latin  by  some  noble  clerk  of  France— which  book  is  named  Eneydos, 
and  made  in  Latin  by  that  noble  poet  and  great  clerk  Vergyl — in 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


297 


which  book  I  had  great  pleasure  by  reason  of  the  fair  and  honest 
termes  and  wordes  in  French  which  I  never  saw  to-fore-like,  none 
so  pleasant  nor  so  well-ordered,  which  book  as  me  seemed  should  be 
much  requisite  for  noble  men  to  see,  as  well  for  the  eloquence  as 
the  histories  ;  and  when  I  had  advised  me  to  this  said  book  I  deliber- 
ated and  concluded  to  translate  it  into  English,  and  forthwith  took 
a  pen  and  ink  and  wrote  a  leaf  or  twain."     But  the  work  of  transla- 
tion involved  a  choice  of  English  which  made  Caxton's  work  impor- 
tant in  the  history  of  our  language.     He  stood  between  two  schools 
of  translation,  that  of  French  affectation  and  English  pedantry.     It 
was  a  moment  when  the  character  of  our  literary  tongue  was  being 
settled,  and  it  is  curious  to  see  in  his  own  words  the  struggle  over 
it  which  was  going  on  in  Caxton's  time.     "  Some  honest  and  great 
clerks  have  been  with  me  and  desired  me  to  write  the  most  curious 
terms  that   I  could  find  ; "  on  the  other  hand,  "  some  gentlemen  of 
late   blamed  me,   saying  that  in  my  translations  I  had  over  many 
curious  terms  which  could  not  be  understood  of  common  people,  and 
desired  me  to  use  old  and  homely  terms  in  my  translations."     "  Fain 
would  I  please  every  man,"  comments  the  good-humoured  printer,  but 
his  sturdy  sense  saved  him  alike  from  the  temptations  of  the  court  and 
the  schools.     His  own  taste  pointed  to  English,  but  "  to  the  common 
terms  that  be  daily  used"  rather  than  to  the  Enghsh  of  his  anti- 
quarian advisers.     "I  took  an  old -book  and  read  therein,  and  cer- 
tainly the  English  was  so  rude  and  broad  I  could  not  well  understand 
it,"  while  the  Old-English  charters  which  the  Abbot  of  Westminster 
lent  as  models  from  the  archives  of  his  house  seemed  "  more  like 
to   Dutch  than  to  English."     On  the  other  hand,  to  adopt   current 
phraseology  was  by  no  means  easy  at  a  time  when  even  the  speech 
of  common  talk  was  in  a  state  of  rapid  flux.     "  Cur  language  now 
used  varieth  far  from  that  which  was  used  and  spoken  when  I  was 
born."     Not  only  so,  but  the  tongue  of  each  shire  was  still  peculiar 
to  itself,  and  hardly  intelligible  to  men  of  another  county.     "  Common 
English  that  is  spoken  in  one  shire  varieth  from  another  so  much, 
that  in  my  days  happened  that  certain  merchants  were  in  a  ship  in 
Thames,  for  to  have  sailed  over  the  sea  into  Zealand,  and  for  lack 
of  wind  they  tarried  at  Foreland,  and  went  on  land  for  to  refresh 
them.     And  one  of  them,  named  Sheffield,  a  mercer,  came  into   a 
house  and  asked  for  meat,  and  especially  he  asked  them  after  eggs. 
And  the  good  wife  answered  that  she  could  speak  no  French.     And 
the  merchant  was  angry,  for  he  also  could  speak  no  French,  but  would 
have  had  eggs,  but  she  understood  him  not.     And  then  at  last  another 
said  he  would  have  eyren,  then  the  good  wife  said  she  understood  him 
well.     Lo  !  what  should  a  man  in  these  days  now  write,"  adds  the 
puzzled  printer,  "  eggs  or  eyren  ?  certainly  it  is  hard  to  please  every 


man  by  cause  of  diversity  and  change -of  language. 


His  own  mother- 


298 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


tongue  too  was  that  of  "  Kent  in  the  Weald,  where  I  doubt  not  is  spoken 
as  broad  and  rude  English  as  in  any  place  in  England  ; "  and  coupling 
this  with  his  long  absence  in  Flanders,  we  can  hardly  wonder  at  the 
confession  he  makes  over  his  first  translation,  that  *'  when  all  these 
things  came  to  fore  me,  after  that  I  had  made  and  written  a  five  or  six 
quires,  I  fell  in  despair  of  this  work,  and  purposed  never  to  have 
continued  therein,  and  th3  quires  laid  apart,  and  in  two  years  after 
laboured  no  mor    in  this  work." 

He  was  still,  however,  busy  translating  when  he  died.  All  difficul- 
ties, in  fact,  were  lightened  by  the  general  interest  which  his  labours 
aroused.  When  the  length  of  t^e  "  Golden  Legend  "  makes  him  "  half 
desperate  to  have  accomplished  it "  and  ready  to  "  lay  it  apart,"  the 
Earl  of  Arundel  solicits  him  in  nowise  to  leave  it  and  promises  a  yearly 
fee  of  a  buck  in  summer  and  a  doe  in  winter,  once  it  were  done,  "  Many 
noble  and  divers  gentle  men  of  this  realm  came  and  demanded  many 
and  often  times  wherefore  I  have  not  made  and  imprinted  the  noble 
history  of  the  '  San  Graal.'"  We  see  his  visitors  discussing  with  the 
sagacious  printer  the  historic  existence  of  Arthur.  Duchess  Margaret 
of  Somerset  lent  him  her  "  Blanchardine  and  Eglantine  ; "  an  Arch- 
deacon of  Colchester  brought  him  his  translation  of  the  work  called 
"  Cato  ;  "  a  mercer  of  London  pressed  him  to  undertake  the  "  Royal 
Book"  of  Philip  le  Bel.  The  Queen's  brother.  Earl  Rivers,  chatted 
with  him  over  his  own  translation  of  the  "  Sayings  of  the  Philosophers." 
Even  kings  showed  their  interest  in  his  work  ;  his  "  TuUy  "  was  printed 
under  the  patronage  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  his  "  Order  of  Chivalry  " 
dedicated  to  Richard  the  Third,  his  "  Facts  of  Arms  "published  at  the 
desire  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  The  fashion  of  large  and  gorgeous 
libraries  had  passed  from  the  French  to  the  English  princes  of  his  day  : 
Henry  the  Sixth  had  a  valuable  collection  of  books  ;  that  of  the  Louvre 
was  seized  by  Duke  Humphrey  of  Gloucester,  and  formed  the  basis  of 
the  fine  library  which  he  presented  to  the  University  of  Oxford.  Great 
nobles  took  an  active  and  personal  part  of  the  literary  revival.  The 
warrior,  Sir  John  Fastolf,  was  a  well-known  iover  of  books.  Earl 
Rivers  was  himself  one  of  the  authors  of  the  day  ;  he  found  leisure  in 
the  intervals  f  pilgrimages  and  politics  to  translate  the  "  Sayings  of 
the  Philosophers"  and  a  couple  of  religious  tracts  for  Caxton's  press. 
A  friend  of  far  greater  intellectual  distinction,  however,  than  these 
was  found  in  John  Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Worcester.  He  had  wandered 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Sixth  in  search  of  learning  to  Italy,  had 
studied  at  her  universities,  and  become  a  teacher  at  Padua,  where  the 
elegance  of  his  Latinity  drew  tears  from  the  most  learned  of  the  Popes, 
Pius  the  Second,  better  known  as  /Eneas  Sylvius.  Caxton  can  find  no 
words  warm  enough  to  express  his  admiration  of  one  "  which  in  his 
time  flowered  in  virtue  and  cunning,  to  whom  I  know  none  like  among 
the  lords  of  the  temporality  in  science  and  moral  virtue."      But  the 


Vl.J 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


299 


ruthlessness  of  the  Renascence  appeared  in  Tiptoft  side  by  side  with 
its  intellectual  vigour,  and  the  fall  of  one  whose  cruelty  had  earned  him 
the  surname  of  "the  Butcher"  even  amidst  the  horrors  of  civil  war 
was  greeted  with  sorrow  by  none  but  the  faithful  printer.  "  What 
great  loss  was  it,"  he  says  in  a  preface  long  after  his  fall,  "of  that 
noble,  virtuous,  and  well-disposed  lord  ;  when  I  remember  and  ad- 
vertise his  life,  his  science,  and  his  virtue,  me  thinketh  (God  not 
displeased)  over  great  a  loss  of  such  a  man,  considering  his  estate 
and  cunning." 

Among  the  nobles  who  encouraged  the  work  of  Caxton  we  have 
already  seen  the  figure  of  the  King's  youngest  brother,  Richard,  Duke 
of  Gloucester.  Ruthless  and  subtle  as  Edward  himself,  the. Duke  at 
once  came  to  the  front  with  a  scheme  of  daring  ambition  when  the 
succession  of  a  boy  of  thirteen  woke  again  the  fierce  rivalries  of  the 
Court.  On  the  King's  death  Richard  hastened  to  secure  the  person 
of  his  nephew,  Edward  the  Fifth,  to  overthrow  the  power  of  the  Queen's 
family,  and  to  receive  from  the  council  the  office  of  Protector  of  the 
realm.  Little  more  than  a  month  had  passed,  when  suddenly  entering 
the  Council  chamber,  he  charged  Lord  Hastings,  the  chief  adviser  of 
the  late  King  and  loyal  adherent  of  his  sons,  with  sorcery  and  designs 
upon  his  life.  As  he  dashed  his  hand  upon  the  table  the  room  was 
filled  with  soldiers.  "  I  will  not  dine,"  said  the  Duke,  addressing 
Hastings,  "till  they  have  brought  me  your  head;"  and  the  powerful 
minister  was  hurried  to  instant  execution  in  the  court-yard  of  the  Tower. 
The  Archbishop  of  York  and  the  Bishop  of  Ely  were  thrown  into 
prison,  and  every  check  on  Richard's  designs  was  removed.  Only  one 
step  remained  to  be  taken,  and  two  months  after  his  brother's  death  the 
Duke  consented  after  some  show  of  reluctance  to  receive  a  petition 
presented  by  a  body  of  lords  and  others  in  the  name  of  the  three 
estates,  which,  setting  aside  Edward's  children  as  the  fruit  of  an  un- 
lawful marriage  and  those  of  Clarence  as  dis.bled  by  his  attainder, 
besought  him  to  take  the  office  and  title  of  King.  His  young  nephews, 
Edward  V.  and  his  brother  the  Duke  of  Yor':,  were  flung  into  the 
Tower,  and  there  murdered,  as  was  alleged,  )y  their  uncle's  order  ; 
while  the  Queen's  brother  and  son.  Lord  Rivers  and  Sir  Richard  Grey, 
were  hurried  to  execution.  Morton,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  imprisoned 
under  Buckingham  in  Wales,  took  advantage  of  the  disappearance  of 
the  two  boys  to  found  a  scheme  which  was  to  unite  the  discontented 
Yorkists  with  what  remained  of  the  Lancastrian  party,  and  to  link  both 
bodies  in  a  wide  conspiracy.  All  the  descendants  of  Henry  IV.  had 
passed  away,  but  the  line  of  John  of  Gaunt  still  survived.  The  Lady 
Margaret  Beaufort,  the  last  representative  of  the  House  of  Somerset, 
had  married  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  Edmund  Tudor,  and  become  the 
mother  of  Henry  Tudor.  In  the  act  which  legitimated  the  Beauforts 
an  illegal  clause  had  been  inserted  by  Henry  IV.  which  barred  their 


300 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


succession  to  the  crown  ;  but  as  the  last  remaining  scion  of  the  line  of 
Lancaster  Henry's  claim  was  acknowledged  by  the  partizans  of  his 
House,  and  he  had  been  driven  to  seek  a  refuge  in  Brittany  from  the 
jealous  hostility  of  the  Yorkist  sovereigns.  Morton's  plan  was  the 
marriage  of  Henry  Tudor  with  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  and  heiress  of 
Edward  IV.,  and  with  Buckingham's  aid  a  formidable  revolt  was 
organized.  The  outbreak  was  quickly  put  down.  But  daring  as  was 
Richard's  natural  temper,  it  was  not  to  mere  violence  that  he  trusted 
in  his  seizure  of  the  throne.  During  his  brother's  reign  he  had  watched 
keenly  the  upgrowth  of  public  discontent  as  the  new  policy  of  the 
monarchy  developed  itself,  and  it  was  as  the  restorer  of  its  older 
liberties  that  he  appealed  for  popular  support.  "  We  be  determined," 
said  the  citizens  of  London  in  a  petition  to  the  King, "  rather  to  adven- 
ture and  to  commit  us  to  the  peril  of  our  lives  and  jeopardy  of  death, 
than  to  live  in  such  thraldom  and  bondage  as  we  have  lived  long  time 
heretofore,  oppressed  and  injured  by  extortions  and  new  impositions 
against  the  laws  of  God  and  man  and  the  liberty  and  laws  of  this 
realm,  wherein  every  Englishman  is  inherited."  Richard  met  the  ap- 
peal by  again  convoking  Parliament,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been 
all  but  discontinued  under  Edward,  and  by  sweeping  measures  of 
reform.  In  the  one  session  of  his  brief  reign  the  practice  of  extort- 
ing money  by  "benevolences"  was  declared  illegal,  while  grants  of 
pardons  and  remission  of  forfeitures  reversed  in  some  measure  the 
policy  of  terror  by  which  Edward  at  once  held  the  country  in  awe 
and  filled  his  treasury.  Numerous  statutes  broke  the  slumbers  of 
Parliamentary  legislation.  A  series  of  mercantile  enactments  stro'-e  to 
protect  the  growing  interests  of  English  commerce.  The  King's  love 
of  literature  showed  itself  in  the  provision  that  no  statutes  should  act 
as  a  hindrance  "  to  any  artificer  or  merchant  stranger,  of  what  nation 
or  country  he  be,  for  bringing  unto  this  realm  or  selling  by  retail  or 
otherwise  of  any  manner  of  books,  written  or  imprinted."  His  prohibi- 
tion of  the  iniquitous  seizure  of  goods  before  conviction  of  felony, 
which  had  prevailed  during  Edward's  reign,  his  liberation  of  the 
bondmen  who  still  remained  unenfranchised  on  the  royal  domain,  and 
his  religious  foundations,  show  Richard's  keen  anxiety  to  purchase  a 
popularity  in  which  the  bloody  opening  of  his  reign  might  be  forgotten. 
But  as  the  news  of  the  royal  children's  murder  slowly  spread,  the 
most  pitiless  stood  aghast  at  this  crowning  deed  of  blood.  The 
pretence  of  constitutional  rule,  too,  was  soon  thrown  off,  and  a  levy 
of  benevolences  in  defiance  of  the  statute  which  had  just  been  passed 
woke  general  indignation.  The  King  felt  himself  safe  ;  he  had  even 
won  the  Queen-mother's  consent  to  his  marriage  wit'i  Elizabeth  ;  and 
Henry,  alone  and  in  exile,  seemed  a  small  danger.  But  a  wide  con- 
spiracy at  once  revealed  itself  when  Henry  landed  at  Milford  Haven,  and 
advanced  through  Wales.     He  no  sooner  encountered  the  royal  army 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


301 


at  Bosworth  Field  in  Leicestershire  than  treachery  decided  the  day. 
Abandoned  ere  the  battle  began  by  a  division  of  his  forces  under 
Lord  Stanley,  and  as  it  opened  by  a  second  body  under  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  Richard  dashed,  with  a  cry  of  "  Treason,  Treason," 
into  the  thick  of  the  fight.  In  the  fury  of  his  despair  he  had  already 
flung  the  Lancastrian  standard  to  the  ground  and  hewed  his  way  into 
the  very  presence  of  his  rival,  when  he  fell  overpowered  by  numbers, 
and  the  crown  which  he  had  worn,  and  which  was  found  as  the 
struggle  ended  lying  near  a  hawthorn  bush,  was  placed  on  the  head  of 
the  conqueror. 

With  the  accession  of  Henry  the  Seventh  ended  the  long  bloodshed 
of  the  civil  wars.  The  two  warring  lines  were  united  by  his  marriage 
with  Elizabeth  :  his  only  dangerous  rivals  were  removed  by  the  succes- 
sive deaths  of  the  nephews  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  John  de  la  Pole, 
Earl  of  Lincoln,  a  son  of  Edward's  sister,  who  had  been  acknowledged 
as  his  successor  by  Richard  the  Third ;  and  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  a  son 
of  Edward's  brother  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  and  next  male  heir  of  the 
Yorkist  line.  Two  remarkable  impostors  succeeded  for  a  time  in 
exciting  formidable  revolts,  Lambert  Simnel,  under  the  name  of  the 
Earl  of  Warwick,  and  Perkin  Warbeck,  who  personated  the  Duke  of 
York,  the  second  of  the  children  murdered  in  the  Tower.  Defeat,  how- 
ever, reduced  the  first  to  the  post  of  scullion  in  the  royal  kitchen  ;  and 
the  second,  after  far  stranger  adventures,  and  the  recognition  of  his 
claims  by  the  Kings  of  Scotland  and  France,  as  well  as  by  the  Duchess- 
Dov/ager  of  Burgundy,  whom  he  claimed  as  his  aunt,  was  captured  and 
four  years  later  hanged  at  Tyburn.  Revolt  only  proved  more  clearly 
the  strength  which  had  been  given  to  the  New  iMonarjhy  by  the 
revolution  which  had  taken  place  in  the  art  of  war.  The  introduction 
of  gunpowder  had  ruined  feudalism.  The  mounted  and  heavily-armed 
knight  gave  way  to  the  meaner  footman.  Fortresses  which  had  been 
impregnable  against  the  attacks  of  the  Middle  Ages  crumbled  before 
the  new  artillery.  Although  gunpowder  had  been  in  use  as  early  as 
Crdcy,  it  was  not  till  the  accession  of  the  House  of  Lancaster  that  it  was 
really  brought  into  effective  employment  as  a  military  resource.  But 
the  revolution  in  warfare  was  immediate.  The  wars  of  Henry  the  Fifth 
were  wars  of  sieges.  1  he  "  Last  of  the  Barons,"  as  Warwick  has  pic- 
turesquely been  styled,  relied  mainly  on  his  train  of  artillery.  It  was  artil- 
lery that  turned  the  day  at  Barnet  and  Tewkesbury,  and  that  gave  Henry 
the  Seventh  his  victory  over  the  formidable  dangers  which  assailed  him. 
The  strength  which  the  change  gave  to  the  crown  was,  in  fact,  almost 
irresistible.  Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  the  call  of  a  great  baron  had 
been  enough  to  raise  a  formidable  revolt.  Yeomen  and  retainers  took 
down  the  bow  from  their  chimney  corner,  knights  buckled  on  their  armour, 
and  in  a  few  days  an  army  threatened  the  throne.  But  without  artillery 
such  an  army  was  now  helpless,  and  the  one  train  of  artillery  in  the 


302 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


tCHAP. 


kingdom  lay  at  the^isposal  of  the  King.  It  was  the  consciousness  of 
his  strength  which  enabled  the  new  sovereign  to  quietly  resume  the  policy 
of  Edward  the  Fourth.  He  was  forced,  indeed,  by  the  circumstances 
of  his  descent  to  base  his  right  to  the  throne  on  a  Parliamentary  title. 
Without  reference  either  to  the  claim  of  blood  or  conquest,  the  Houses 
enacted  simply  "  that  the  inheritance  of  the  Crown  should  be,  rest, 
remain,  and  abide  in  the  most  Royal  person  of  their  sovereign  lord, 
King  Henry  the  Seventh,  and  the  heirs  of  his  body  lawfully  ensuing." 
But  the  policy  of  Edward  was  faithfully  followed,  and  Parliament  was 
but  twice  convened  during  the  last  thirteen  years  of  Henry's  reign. 
The  chief  aim,  indeed,  of  the  King  was  the  accumulation  of  a  treasure 
which  would  relieve  him  from  the  need  of  ever  appealing  for  its  aid. 
Subsidies  granted  for  the  support  of  wars  which  Henry  evaded  formed 
the  base  of  a  royal  treasure,  which  was  swelled  by  the  revival  of 
dormant  claims  of  the  crown,  by  the  exaction  of  fines  for  the  breach 
of  forgotten  tenures,  and  by  a  host  of  petty  extortions.  A  dilemma  of 
his  favourite  minister,  which  received  the  name  of  "  Morton's  fork," 
extorted  gifts  to  the  exchequer  from  men  who  lived  handsomely  on 
the  ground  that  their  wealth  was  manifest,  and  from  those  who  lived 
plainly  on  the  plea  that  economy  had  made  them  wealthy.  Still 
greater  sums  were  drawn  from  those  who  were  compromised  in  the 
revolts  which  chequered  the  King's  rule.  So  successful  were  these 
efforts  that  at  the  end  of  his  reign  Henry  bequeathed  a  hoard  of  two 
millions  to  his  successor.  The  same  imitation  of  Edward's  policy 
was  seen  in  Henry's  civil  government.  Broken  as  was  the  strength 
of  the  baronage,  there  still  remained  lords  whom  the  new  monarch 
watched  with  a  jealous  solicitude.  Their  power  lay  in  the  hosts  ot 
disorderly  retainers  who  swarmed  round  their  houses,  ready  to  furnish 
a  force  in  case  of  revolt,  while  in  peace  ihey  became  centres  of  outrage 
and  defiance  to  the  law.  Edward  had  ordered  the  dissolution  of  these 
military  households  in  his  Statute  of  Liveries,  and  the  statute  was 
enforced  by  Henry  with  the  utmost  severity.  (  n  a  visit  to  the  Earl  of 
Oxford,  one  of  the  most  devoted  adherents  of  the  Lancastrian  cause, 
the  King  found  two  long  lines  of  liveried  retainers  drawn  up  to  receive 
him.  "  I  thank  you  for  your  good  cheer,  my  Lord,"  said  Henry  as 
they  parted,  "  but  I  may  not  endure  to  have  my  laws  broken  in  my 
sight.  My  attorney  must  speak  with  you."  The  Earl  was  glad  to 
escape  with  a  fine  of  ;^  10,000.  It  was  with  a  special  view  to  the 
suppression  of  this  danger  that  Henry  employed  the  criminal  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  Royal  Council.  He  appointed  a  committee  of  his  Council 
as  a  regular  court,  to  which  the  place  where  it  usually  sat  gave  the 
name  of  the  Court  of  Star  Chamber.  The  King's  aim  was  probably 
little  more  than  a  purpose  to  enforce  order  on  the  land  by  bringing  the 
great  nobles  before  his  own  judgment-seat ;  but  the  establishment  of 
the  court  as  a  regular  and  no  longer  an  exceptional  tribunal,  whose 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


303 


traditional  powers  were  confirmed  by  Parliamentary  statute,  and  where 
the  absence  of  a  jury  cancelled  the  prisoner's  right  to  be  tried  by  his 
peers,  furnished  his  son  with  his  readiest  instrument  of  tyranny.  But 
though  the  drift  of  Henry's  policy  was  steady  in  the  direction  of  des- 
potism, his  temper  seemed  to  promise  the  reign  of  a  poetic  dreamer 
rather  than  of  a  statesman.  The  spare  form,  the  sallow  face,  the  quick 
eye,  the  shy,  solitary  humour  broken  by  outbursts  of  pleasant  converse 
or  genial  sarcasm,  told  of  an  inner  concentration  and  enthusiasm.  His 
tastes  were  literary  and  artistic  ;  he  was  a  patron  of  the  new  printing 
press,  a  lover  of  books  and  of  art.  But  life  gave  Henry  little  leisure  for 
dreams  or  culture.  Wrapt  in  schemes  of  foreign  intrigue,  struggling 
with  dangers  at  home,  he  could  take  small  part  in  the  one  movement 
which  stirred  England  during  his  reign,  the  great  intellectual  revolution 
which  bears  the  name  of  the  Revival  of  Letters. 


Section  IV.— The  New  Learning.    1509— 1520. 

{Authorities. — The  general  literary  history  of  this  period  is  fully  and  ac- 
curately given  by  Mr.  Hallam  ('*  Literature  of  Europe  "),  and  in  a  confused 
but  interesting  way  by  Warton  ("History  of  English  Poetry"),  The  most 
accessible  edition  of  the  typical  book  of  the  Revival,  More's  "  Utopia,"  is  the 
Elizabethan  translation,  published  by  Mr.  Arber  ("English  Reprints,"  1869). 
The  history  of  Erasmus  in  England  must  be  followed  in  his  own  entertaining 
Letters,  abstracts  of  some  of  which  will  be  found  in  the  well-known  biography 
by  Jortin.  Colet's  work  and  the  theoloi^ical  aspect  of  the  Revival  has  been 
described  by  Mr.  Seebohm  ("  The  Oxford  Reformers  of  1498  ") ;  for  Warham's 
share,  I  have  ventured  to  borrow  a  little  from  a  paper  of  mine  on  "  Lambeth 
and  the  Archbishops,"  in  "  Stray  Studies."] 

Great  as  were  the  issues  of  Henry's  policy,  it  shrinks  into  littleness 
If  we  turn  from  it  to  the  weighty  movements  which  were  now  stirring 
the  minds  of  men.  The  world  was  passing  through  changes  more 
momentous  than  any  it  had  witnessed  since  the  victory  of  Christianity 
and  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Its  physical  bounds  were  suddenly 
enlarged.  The  discoveries  of  Copernicus  revealed  to  man  the  secret 
of  the  universe.  Portuguese  mariners  doubled  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  and  anchored  their  merchant  fleets  in  the  harbours  of  India. 
Columbus  crossed  the  untraversed  ocean  to  add  a  New  World  to  the 
Cld.  Sebastian  Cabot,  starting  from  the  port  of  Bristol,  threaded  his 
way  among  the  icebergs  of  Labrador.  This  sudden  contact  with  new 
lands,  new  faiths,  new  races  of  men  quickened  the  slumbering  intelli- 
gence of  Europe  into  a  strange  curiosity.  The  first  book  of  voyages 
that  told  of  the  Western  World,  theTravelsof  Amerigo  Vespucci,  were 
soon  "  in  every  body's  hands."  The  "  Utopia "  of  More,  in  its  wide 
range  of  speculation  on  every  subject  of  human  thought  and  action, 
tells  us  how  roughly  and  utterly  the  narrowness  and  limitation  of 
human  life  had  been  broken  up.     The  capture  of  Constantinople  by 


304 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  Turks,  and  the  flight  of  its  Greek  scholars  to  the  shores  of  Italy, 
opened  anew  the  science  and  literature  of  the  older  world  at  the  very 
hour  when  the  intellectual  energy  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  sunk  into 
exhaustion.  The  exiled  Greek  scholars  were  welcomed  in  Italy,  and 
Florence,  so  long  the  home  of  freedom  and  of  art,  became  the  home 
of  an  intellectual  revival.  The  poetry  of  Homer,  the  drama  of  Sopho- 
cles, the  philosophy  of  Aristotle  and  of  Plato  woke  again  to  life  beneath 
the  shadow  of  the  mighty  dome  with  which  Brunelleschi  had  just 
crowned  the  City  by  the  Arno.  All  the  restless  energy  which  Florence 
had  so  long  thrown  into  the  cause  of  liberty  she  flung,  now  that  her 
liberty  was  reft  from  her,  into  the  cause  of  letters.  The  galleys  of  her 
merchants  brought  back  manuscripts  from  the  East  as  the  most  precious 
portion  of  their  freight.  In  the  palaces  of  her  nobles  fragments  of 
classic  sculpture  ranged  themselves  beneath  the  frescoes  of  Ghirlandajo. 
The  recovery  of  a  treatise  of  Cicero's  or  a  tract  of  Sallust's  from  the 
dust  of  a  monastic  library  was  welcomed  by  the  group  of  statesmen 
and  artists  who  gathered  in  the  Rucellai  gardens  with  a  thrill  of 
enthusiasm.  Foreign  scholars  soon  flocked  over  the  Alps  to  learn 
Greek,  the  key  of  the  new  knowledge,  from  the  Florentine  teachers. 
Grocyn,  a  fellow  of  New  College,  was  perhaps  the  first  Englishman 
who  studied  under  the  Greek  exile,  Chalcondylas  ;  and  the  Greek 
lectures  which  he  delivered  in  Oxford  on  his  return  mark  the  opening 
of  a  new  period  in  our  history.  Physical  as  well  as  literary  activity 
awoke  with  the  re-discovery  of  the  teachers  of  Greece,  and  the  con- 
tinuous progress  of  English  science  may  be  dated  from  the  day  when 
Linacre,  another  Oxford  student,  returned  from  the  lectures  of  the 
Florentine  Politian  to  revive  the  older  tradition  of  medicine  by  his 
translation  of  Galen. 

But  from  the  first  it  was  manifest  that  the  revival  of  letters  would  take 
a  tone  in  England  very  different  from  the  tone  it  had  taken  in  Italy,  a 
tone  less  literary,  less  largely  human,  but  more  moral,  more  religious, 
more  practical  in  its  bearings  both  upon  society  and  politics.  The 
awakening  of  a  rational  Christianity,  whether  in  England  or  in  the 
Teutonic  world  at  large,  began  with  the  Italian  studies  of  John  Colet ; 
and  the  vigour  and  earnestness  of  Colet  were  the  best  proof  of  the 
strength  with  which  the  new  movement  was  to  affect  English  re- 
ligion. He  came  back  to  Oxford  utterly  untouched  by  the  Platonic 
mysticism  or  the  semi-serious  infidelity  which  characterized  the  group 
of  scholars  round  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent.  He  was  hardly  more 
influenced  by  their  literary  enthusiasm.  The  knowledge  of  Greek 
seems  to  have  had  one  almost  exclusive  end  for  him,  and  this  was 
a  religious  end.  Greek  was  the  key  by  which  he  could  unlock  the 
Gospels  and  the  New  Testament,  and  in  these  he  thought  that  he  could 
find  a  new  religious  standing-ground.  It  was  this  resolve  of  Colet  to 
P.ing  aside  the  traditional  dogmas  of  his  day  and  to  discover  a  rational 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


305 


and  practical  religion  in  the  Gospels  themselves,  which  gave  its  peculiar 
stamp  to  the  theology  of  the  Renascence.  His  faith  stood  simply  on 
a  vivid  realization  of  the  person  of  Christ.  In  the  prominence  which 
such  a  view  gave  to  the  moral  life,  in  his  free  criticism  of  the  earlier 
Scriptures,  in  his  tendency  to  simple  forms  of  doctrine  and  confessions 
of  faith,  Colet  struck  the  key-note  of  a  mode  of  religious  thought  as 
strongly  in  contrast  with  that  of  the  later  Reformation  as  with  that  of 
Catholicism  itself.  The  allegorical  and  mystical  theology  on  which 
the  Middle  Ages  had  spent  their  intellectual  vigour  to  such  little  pur- 
pose fell  at  one  blow  before  his  rejection  of  all  but  the  historical  and 
grammatical  sense  of  the  Biblical  text.  The  great  fabric  of  belief  built 
up  by  the  mediaeval  doctors  seemed  to  him  simply  "  the  corruptions  of 
the  Schoolmen."  In  the  life  and  sayings  of  its  Founder  he  found  a 
simple  and  rational  Christianity,  whose  fittest  expression  was  the 
Apostles'  creed.  "  About  the  rest,"  he  said  with  characteristic  im- 
patience, "  let  divines  dispute  as  they  will.'  Of  his  attitude  towards  the 
coarser  aspects  of  the  current  religion  his  behaviour  at  a  later  time 
before  the  famous  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  at  Canterbury  gives  us  a  rough 
indication.  As  the  blaze  of  its  jewels,  its  costly  sculptures,  its  elaborate 
metal-work  burst  on  Colet's  view,  he  suggested  with  bitter  irony  that  a 
saint  so  lavish  to  the  poor  in  his  lifetime  would  certainly  prefer  that 
they  should  possess  the  wealth  heaped  round  him  since  his  death.  With 
petulant  disgust  he  rejected  the  rags  of  the  martyr  which  were  offered 
for  his  adoration,  and  the  shoe  which  was  offered  for  his  kiss.  The 
earnestness,  the  religious  zeal,  the  very  impatience  and  want  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  past  which  we  see  in  every  word  and  act  of  the  man, 
burst  out  in  the  lectures  on  St.  Paul's  Epistles  which  he  delivered  at 
Oxford.  Even  to  the  most  critical  among  his  hearers  he  seemed  "  like 
one  inspired,  raised  in  voice,  eye,  his  whole  countenance  and  mien, 
out  of  himself."  Severe  as  was  the  outer  life  of  the  new  teacher,  a 
severity  marked  by  his  plain  black  robe  and  the  frugal  table  which 
he  preserved  amidst  his  later  dignities,  his  lively  conversation,  his 
frank  simplicity,  the  purity  and  nobleness  of  his  life,  even  the  keen 
outbursts  of  his  troublesome  temper,  endeared  him  to  a  group  of 
scholars  among  whom  Erasmus  and  Thomas  More  stood  in  the 
foremost  rank. 

"  Greece  has  crossed  the  Alps,"  cried  the  exiled  Argyropulos  on 
hearing  a  translation  of  Thucydides  by  the  German  Reuchlin ;  but 
the  glory,  whether  of  Reuchlin  or  of  the  Teutonic  scholars  who 
followed  him,  was  soon  eclipsed  by  that  of  Erasmus.  His  enormous 
industry,  the  vast  store  of  classical  learning  which  he  gradually 
accumulated,  Erasmus  shared  with  others  of  his  day.  In  patristic 
reading  he  may  have  stood  beneath  Luther ;  in  originality  and  pro- 
foundness of  thought  he  was  certainly  inferior  to  More.  His  theology, 
though  he  made  a  far  greater  mark  on  the  world  by  it  than  even  by 


3o6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


his  scholarship,  he  derived  almost  without  change  from  Colet.  But 
his  combination  of  vast  learning  with  keen  observation,  of  acuteness  of 
remark  with  a  lively  fancy,  of  genial  wit  with  a  perfect  good  sense — his 
union  of  as  sincere  a  piety  and  as  profound  a  zeal  for  rational  religion 
as  Colet's  with  a  dispassionate  fairness  towards  older  faiths,  a  large 
love  of  secular  culture,  and  a  genial  freedom  and  play  of  mind — this 
union  was  his  own,  and  it  was  through  this  that  Erasmus  embodied  for 
the  Teutonic  peoples  the  quickening  influence  of  the  New  Learning 
during  the  long  scholar-life  which  began  at  Paris  and  ended  amidst 
darkness  and  sorrow  at  Basel.  At  the  time  of  Colet's  return  from  Italy 
Erasmus  was  young  and  comparatively  unknown,  but  the  chivalrous 
enthusiasm  of  the  new  movement  breaks  out  in  his  letters  from  Paris, 
whither  he  had  wandered  as  a  scholar.  "  I  have  given  up  my  whole 
soul  to  Greek  learning,"  he  writes,  "  and  as  soon  as  I  get  any  money  I 
shall  buy  Greek  books — and  then  I  shall  buy  some  clothes."  It  was 
in  despair  of  reaching  Italy  that  the  young  scholar  made  his  way  to 
Oxford,  as  the  one  place  on  this  side  the  Alps  where  he  would  be  en- 
abled through  the  teaching  of  Grocyn  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  Greek, 
But  he  had  no  sooner  arrived  there  than  all  feeling  of  regret  vanished 
away.  "  I  have  found  in  Oxford,"  he  writes,  "  so  much  polish  and 
learning  that  now  I  hardly  care  about  going  to  Italy  at  all,  save  for  the 
sake  of  having  been  there.  When  I  listen  to  my  friend  Colet  it  seems 
like  listening  to  Plato  himself  Who  does  not  wonder  at  the  wide  range 
of  Grocyn's  knowledge?  What  can  be  more  searching,  deep,  and  refined 
than  the  judgement  of  Linacre.?  When  did  Nature  mould  a  temper 
more  gentle,  endearing,  and  happy  than  the  temper  of  Thomas  More.**" 
But  the  new  movement  was  far  from  being  bounded  by  the  walls 
of  Oxford.  The  silent  influences  of  time  were  working,  indeed, 
steadily  for  its  cause.  The  printing  press  was  making  letters  the 
common  property  of  all.  In  the  last  thirty  years  of  the  fifteenth 
century  ten  thousand  editions  of  books  and  pamphlets  are  said  to  have 
been  published  throughout  Europe,  the  most  important  half  of  them  of 
course  in  Italy  ;  and  all  the  Latin  authors  were  accessible  to  every 
student  before  it  closed.  Almost  all  the  more  valuable  authors  of 
Greece  were  published  in  the  first  twenty  years  of  the  century  which 
followed.  The  profound  influence  of  this  burst  of  the  two  great  classic 
literatures  upon  the  world  at  once  made  itself  felt.  "  For  the  first 
time,"  to  use  the  picturesque  phrase  of  M.  Taine,  "  men  opened  their 
eyes  and  saw."  The  human  mind  seemed  to  gather  new  energies  at 
the  sight  of  the  vast  field  which  opened  before  it.  It  attacked  every 
province  of  knowledge,  and  it  transformed  all.  Experimental  science, 
the  science  of  philology,  the  science  of  politics,  the  critical  investigation 
of  religious  truth,  all  took  their  origin  from  the  Renascence— this  *  New 
Birth'  of  the  world.  Art,  if  it  lost  much  in  purity  and  propriety,  gained 
in  scope  and  in  the  fearlessness  of  its  love  of  Nature.     Literature,  if 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


307 


crus'^ed  for  the  moment  by  the  overpowering  attraction  of  the  great 
models  of  Greece  and  Rome,  revived  with  a  grandeur  of  form,  a  large 
spirit  of  humanity,  such  as  it  had  never  known  since  their  day.  In 
England  the  influence  of  the  new  movement  extended  far  beyond  the 
little  group  in  which  it  had  a  few  years  before  seemed  concentrated. 
The  great  churchmen  became  its  patrons.  Langton,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, took  delight  in  examining  the  young  scholars  of  his  episcopal 
family  every  evening,  and  sent  all  the  most  promising  of  them  to  study 
across  the  Alps.  Learning  found  a  yet  warmer  friend  in  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  Immersed  as  Archbishop  Warham  was  in  the  business 
of  the  state,  he  was  no  mere  politician.  The  eulogies  which  Erasmus 
lavished  on  him  while  he  lived,  his  praises  of  the  Primate's  learning,  of 
his  ability  in  business,  his  pleasant  humour,  his  modesty,  his  fidelity  to 
friends,  may  pass  for  what  eulogies  of  living  men  are  commonly  worth. 
But  it  is  difficult  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  glowmg  picture  which  he 
drew  of  him  when  death  had  destroyed  all  interest  in  mere  adulation. 
The  letters  indeed  which  passed  between  the  great  churchman  and  the 
wandering  scholar,  the  quiet,  simple-hearted  grace  which  amidst  con- 
stant instances  of  munificence  preserved  the  perfect  equality  of  literary 
friendship,  the  enlightened  piety  to  which  Erasmus  could  address  the 
noble  words  of  his  preface  to  St.  Jerome,  confirm  the  judgement  of  every 
good  man  of  Warham's  day.  In  the  simplicity  of  his  life  the  Archbishop 
offered  a  striking  contrast  to  the  luxurious  nobles  of  his  time.  He  cared 
nothing  for  the  pomp,  the  sensual  pleasures,  the  hunting  and  dicing  in 
which  they  too  commonly  indulged.  An  hour's  pleasant  reading,  a  | 
quiet  chat  with  some  learned  new-comer,  alone  broke  the  endless 
round  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  business.  Few  men  realized  so 
thoroughly  as  Warham  the  new  conception  of  an  intellectual  and 
moral  equality  before  which  the  old  social  distinctions  of  the  world 
were  to  vanish  away.  His  favourite  relaxation  was  to  sup  among  a 
group  of  scholarly  visitors,  enjoying  their  fun  and  retorting  with  fun  of 
his  own.  But  the  scholar-world  found  more  than  supper  or  fun  at  the 
Primate's  board.  His  purse  was  ever  open  to  relieve  their  poverty. 
"  Had  I  found  such  a  patron  in  my  youth,"  Erasmus  wrote  long  after, 
"  I  too  might  have  been  counted  among  the  fortunate  ones."  It  was 
with  Grocyn  that  Erasmus  on  a  second  visit  to  England  rowed  up  the 
river  to  Warham's  board  at  Lambeth,  and  in  spite  of  an  unpromising 
beginning  the  acquaintance  turned  out  wonderfully  well.  The  Primate 
loved  him,  Erasmus  wrote  home,  as  if  he  were  his  father  or  his 
brother,  and  his  generosity  surpassed  that  of  all  his  friends.  He 
offered  him  a  sinecure,  and  when  he  declined  it  he  bestowed  on  him 
a  pension  of  a  hundred  crowns  a  year.  When  Eiasmus  wandered 
to  Paris  it  was  Warham's  invitation  which  recalled  him  to  England. 
When  the  rest  of  his  patrons  left  him  to  starve  on  the  sour  beer  of 
Cambridge   it  was   Warham  who   sent  him  fifty  angeK .      "  I  wish 


3o8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


there  were  thirty  legions  of  them/'  the  Primate  puns  in  his  good- 
humoured  way. 

Real  however  as  this  progress  was,  the  group  of  scholars  who 
represented  the  New  Learning  in  England  still  remained  a  little 
one  through  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  But  a  "  New 
Order,"  to  use  their  own  enthusiastic  term,  dawned  on  them  with 
the  accession  of  his  son,  Henry  the  Eighth  had  hardly  completed 
his  eighteenth  year  when  he  mounted  the  throne,  but  the  beauty 
of  his  person,  his  vigour  and  skill  in  arms,  seemed  matched  by  a 
frank  and  generous  temper  and  a  nobleness  of  political  aims.  He 
gave  promise  of  a  more  popular  system  of  government  by  checking  at 
once  the  extortion  which  had  been  practised  under  colour  of  enforcing 
forgotten  laws,  and  by  bringing  his  father's  financial  ministers,  Empson 
and  Dudley,  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  treason.  No  accession  ever 
excited  higher  expectations  among  a  people  than  that  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  Pole,  his  bitterest  enemy,  confessed  at  a  later  time,  that  the 
King  was  of  a  temper  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign  "  from  which  all 
excellent  things  might  have  been  hoped."  Already  in  stature  and 
strength  a  King  among  his  fellows,  taller  than  any,  bigger  than  any,  a 
mighty  wrestler,  a  mighty  hunter,  an  archer  of  the  best,  a  knight  who 
bore  down  rider  after  rider  in  the  tourney,  the  young  monarch  com- 
bined with  his  bodily  lordliness  a  largeness  and  versatility  of  mind 
which  was  to  be  the  special  characteristic  of  the  age  that  had  begun. 
His  sympathies  were  known  to  be  heartily  with  the  New  Learning ; 
for  Henry  was  not  only  himself  a  fair  scholar,  but  even  in  boyhood 
had  roused  by  his  wit  and  attainments  the  wonder  of  Erasmus.  The 
great  scholar  hurried  back  to  England  to  pour  out  his  exultation  in 
the  "  Praise  of  Folly,"  a  song  of  triumph  over  the  old  world  of  ignor- 
ance and  bigotry  which  was  to  vanish  away  before  the  light  and  know- 
ledge of  the  new  reign.  Folly,  in  his  amusing  little  book,  mounts  a 
pulpit  in  cap  and  bells  and  pelts  with  her  satire  the  absurdities  of  the 
world  around  her,  the  superstition  of  the  monk,  the  pedantry  of  the 
grammarian,  the  dogmatism  of  the  doctors  of  tne  schools,  the  selfishness 
and  tyranny  of  kings. 

The  irony  of  Erasmus  was  backed  by  the  earnest  effort  of  Colet 
Four  years  before  he  had  been  called  from  Oxford  to  the  Deanery  of 
St.  Paul's,  when  he  became  the  great  preacher  of  his  day,  the  prede- 
cessor of  Latimer  in  his  simplicity,  his  directness,  and  his  force.  He 
seized  the  opportunity  to  commence  the  work  of  educational  reform  by 
the  foundation  of  his  own  Grammar  School,  beside  St.  Paul's.  The 
bent  of  its  founder's  mind  was  shown  by  the  image  of  the  ChMd  Jesus 
over  the  master's  chair,  with  the  words  "  Hear  ye  1  .im  "graven  beneath 
it.  "  Lift  up  your  little  white  hands  for  me,"  wrote  the  Dean  to  his 
scholars,  in  words  which  show  the  tenderness  that  lay  beneath  the  stern 
outer  seeming  of  the  man,—"  for  me  which  prayeth  for  you  to  Gtxl.'* 


VT] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


309 


AH  the  educational  designs  of  the  reformers  were  carried  out  in  the  new 
foundation.    The  old  methods  of  instruction  were  superseded  by  fresh 
grammars  composed  by  Erasmus  and  other  scholars  for  its  use.    L'Uy, 
an  Oxford  student  who  had  studied  Greek  in  the  East,  was  placed  at 
its  head.    The  injunctions  of  the  founder  aimed  at  the  union  of  rational 
religion  with  sound  learning,  at  the  exclusion  of  the  scholastic  lo«dc, 
and  at  the  steady  diffusion  of  the  two  classical  literatures.     The  more 
bigoted  of  the  clergy  were  quick  to  take  alarm.     "  No  wonder,"  More 
wrote  to  the  Dean,  "your  school  raises  a  storm,  for  it  is  like  the  wooden 
horse  in  which  armed  Greeks  were  hidden  for  the  ruin  of  barbarous 
Troy."    But  the  cry  of  alarm  passed  helplessly  away.    Not  only  did  the 
study  of  Greek  creep  gradually  into  the  schools  which  existed,  but  the 
example  of  Colet  was  followed  by  a  crowd  of  imitators.     More  gram- 
mar schools,  it  has  been  said,  were  founded  in  the  latter  years  of 
Henry  than  in  the  three  centuries  before.     The  impulse  grew  only 
stronger  as  the  direct  influence  of  the  New  Learning  passed  away. 
The  grammar  schools  of  Edward  the  Sixth  and  of  Elizabeth,  in  a  word 
the  system  of  middle-class  education  which  by  the  close  of  the  century 
had  changed  the  very  face  of  England,  were  amongst  the  results  of 
Colet's  foundation  of  St.  Paul's.     But  the  "  armed  Greeks  "  of  More's 
apologue  found  a  yet  wider  field  in  the  reform  of  the  higher  education 
of  the  country.    On  the  Universities  the  influence  of  the  New  Learning 
was  like  a  passing  from  death  to  life.     Erasmus  gives  us  a  picture  of 
what  happened  at  Cambridge,  where  he  was  himself  for  a  time  a 
teacher  of  Greek.     "  Scarcely  thirty  years  ago  nothing  was  taught  here 
but    the   Parva    Logicalia,    Alexander,    antiquated    exercises    from 
Aristotle,  and  the  Qucestiones  of  Scotus.    As  time  went  on  better  studies 
were  added,  mathematics,  a  new,  or  at  any  rate  a  renovated,  Aristotle, 
and  a  knowledge  of  Greek  literature.  What  has  been  the  result  ?     The 
University  is  now  so  flourishing  that  it  can  compete  with  the  best 
universities  of  the  age."     Latimer  and    Croke   returned   from  Italy 
and  carried  on  the  work  of  Erasmus  at  Cambridge,  where   Fisher, 
Bishop  of  Rochester,  himself  one  of  the  foremost  scholars  of  the  new 
movement,  lent  it  his  powerful  support.     At  Oxford  the  Revival  met 
with  a  fiercer  opposition.      The  contest  took  the  form  of  boyish  frays, 
in  which  the  young  partizans  and  opponents  of  the  New  Learning 
took  sides  as  Greeks  and  Trojans.     The  King  himself  had  to  summon 
one  of  its  fiercest  enemies  to  Woodstock,  and  to  impose  silence  on 
the  tirades  which  were  delivered  from  the   University  pulpit.     The 
preacher  alleged  that  he  was  carried  away  by  the  Spirit.      "Yes," 
retorted  the  King,  "  by  the  spirit,  not  of  wisdom,  but  of  folly."     But 
even  at  Oxford  the  contest  was  soon  at  an  end.      Fox,  Bishop  of 
Winchester,  established    the    first  Greek    lecture    there  in    his  new 
college  of  Corpus   Christi,  and  a  Professorship  of    Greek  was  at  a 
later  time  established  by  the  Crown.     "  The  students,"  wrote  an  eye- 


310 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


witness,"  rush  to  Greek  letters,  they  endure  watching, fasting, toil,  and 
hunger  in  the  pursuit  of  them."  The  work  was  crowned  at  last  by 
the  munificent  foundation  of  Cardinal  College,  to  share  in  whose 
teaching  Wolsey  invited  the  most  eminent  of  the  living  scholars  of 
Europe,  and  for  whose  library  he  promised  to  obtain  copies  of  all  the 
manuscripts  in  the  Vatican. 

From  the  reform  of  education  the  New  Learning  pressed  on  to  the 
reform  of  the  Church.  Warham  still  flung  around  the  movement  his 
steady  protection,  and  it  was  by  his  commission  that  Colet  was  en- 
abled to  address  the  Convocation  of  the  Clergy  in  words  which  set 
before  them  with  unsparing  severity  the  religious  ideal  of  the  New 
Learning.  "Would  that  for  once,"  burst  forth  the  fiery  preacher, 
"  you  would  remember  your  name  and  profession  and  take  thought  for 
the  reformation  of  the  Church !  Never  was  it  more  necessary,  and 
never  did  the  state  of  the  Church  need  more  vigorous  endeavours." 
"  We  are  troubled  with  heretics,"  he  went  on,  "  but  no  heresy  of  theirs 
is  so  fatal  to  us  and  to  the  people  at  large  as  the  vicious  and  depraved 
lives  of  the  clergy.  That  is  the  worst  heresy  of  all."  It  was  the 
reform  of  the  bishops  that  must  precede  that  of  the  clergy,  the  reform 
of  the  clergy  that  would  lead  to  a  general  revival  of  religion  in  the 
people  at  large.  The  accumulation  of  benefices,  the  luxury  and 
worldliness  of  the  priesthood,  must  be  abandoned.  The  prelates  ought 
to  be  busy  preachers,  to  forsake  the  Court  and  labour  in  their  own 
dioceses.  Care  should  be  taken  for  the  ordination  and  promotion  of 
worthier  ministers,  residence  should  be  enforced,  the  low  standard  of 
clerical  morality  should  be  raised.  It  is  plain  that  the  men  of  the 
New  Learning  looked  forward,  not  to  a  reform  of  doctrine,  but  to  a 
reform  of  life,  not  to  a  revolution  which  should  sweep  away  the  older 
superstitions  which  they  despised,  but  to  a  regeneration  of  spiritual 
feeling  before  which  they  would  inevitably  vanish.  Colet  was  soon 
charged  with  heresy  by  the  Bishop  of  London.  Warham  however 
protected  him,  and  Henry,  to  whom  the  Dean  was  denounced,  bade 
him  go  boldly  on.  "  Let  every  man  have  his  own  doctor,"  said  the 
young  King,  after  a  long  interview, "  and  let  every  man  favour  his  own, 
but  this  man  is  the  doctor  for  me." 

But  for  the  success  of  the  new  reform,  a  reform  which  could  only  be 
wrought  out  by  the  tranquil  spread  of  knowledge  and  the  gradual  en- 
lightenment of  the  human  conscience,  the  one  thing  needful  was 
peace ;  and  the  young  King  to  whom  the  scholar-group  looked 
was  already  longing  for  war.  Long  as  peace  had  been  established 
between  the  two  countries,  the  designs  of  England  upon  the  French 
crown  had  never  been  really  waived,  and  Henry's  pride  dwelt  on 
the  older  claims  of  England  to  Normandy  and  Guienne.  Edward 
the  Fourth  and  Henry  the  Seventh  had  each  clung  to  a  system 
of  peace,  only  broken  by  the  vain   efforts  to  save   Britanny  from 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


3" 


French  invasion.  But  the  growth  of  the  French  monarchy  in  extent 
and  power  through  the  poHcy  of  Lewis  the  Eleventh,  his  extinc- 
tion of  the  great  feudatories,  and  the  administrative  centraHzation 
he  introduced,  raised  his  kingdom  to  a  height  far  above  that  of  its 
European  rivals.  The  power  of  France,  in  fact,  was  only  counter- 
balanced by  that  of  Spain,  which  had  become  a  great  state  through 
the  union  of  Castile  and  Aragon,  and  where  the  cool  and  wary 
Ferdinand  of  Aragon  was  building  up  a  vast  power  by  the  marriage  of 
his  daughter  and  heiress  to  the  Archduke  Philip,  son  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian.  Too  weak  to  meet  France  single-handed,  Henry  the 
Seventh  saw  in  an  alliance  with  Spain  a  security  against  his  "  heredi- 
tary enemy,"  and  this  alliance  had  been  cemented  by  the  marriage  of 
his  eldest  son,  Arthur,  with  Ferdinand's  daughter,  Catharine  of  Aragon. 
This  match  was  broken  by  the  death  of  the  young  bridegroom  ;  but 
by  the  efforts  of  Spain  a  Papal  dispensation  was  procured  which 
enabled  Catharine  to  wed  the  brother  of  her  late  husband.  Henry, 
however,  anxious  to  preserve  a  balanced  position  between  the  battling 
powers  of  France  and  Spain,  opposed  the  union  ;  but  Henry  the 
Eighth  had  no  sooner  succeeded  his  father  on  the  throne  than  the 
marriage  was  carried  out.  Throughout  the  first  years  of  his  reign, 
amidst  the  tournaments  and  revelry  which  seemed  to  absorb  his 
whole  energies,  Henry  was  in  fact  keenly  watching  the  opening 
which  the  ambition  of  France  began  to  afford  for  a  renewal  of 
the  old  struggle.  Under  the  successors  of  Lewis  the  Eleventh  the 
efforts  of  the  French  monarchy  had  been  directed  to  the  conquest  of 
Italy.  The  passage  of  the  Alps  by  Charles  the  Eighth  and  the 
mastery  which  he  won  over  Italy  at  a  single  blow  lifted  France  at 
once  above  the  states  around  her.  Twice  repulsed  from  Naples,  she 
remained  under  the  successor  of  Charles,  Lewis  the  Twelfth,  mistress 
of  Milan  and  of  the  bulk  of  Northern  Italy  ;  and  the  ruin  of  Venice 
in  the  league  of  Cambray  crushed  the  last  Italian  state  which  could 
oppose  her  designs  on  the  whole  peninsula.  A  Holy  League,  as  it 
was  called  from  the  accession  to  it  of  the  Pope,  to  drive  France 
from  the  Milanese  was  formed  by ,  the  efforts  of  Ferdinand,  aided 
as  he  was  by  the  kinship  of  the  Emperor,  the  support  of  Venice 
and  Julius  the  Second,  and  the  warlike  temper  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  "The  barbarians,"  to  use  the  phrase  of  Julius,  "were 
chased  beyond  the  Alps  ;  "  but  Ferdinand's  unscrupulous  adroitness 
only  used  the  English  force,  which  had  landed  at  Fontarabia  with 
the  view  of  attacking  Guienne,  to  cover  his  own  conquest  of 
Navarre.  The  troops  mutinied  and  sailed  home  ;  men  scoffed  at  the 
English  as  useless  for  war.  Henry's  spirit,  however,  rose  with  the 
need.  He  landed  in  person  in  the  north  of  France,  and  a  sudden  rout 
of  the  French  cavalry  in  an  engagement  near  Guinegate,  which 
received  from  its  bloodless  character  the  name  of  the  Battle  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Spurs,  gave  him  the  fortresses  of  T^rouanne  and  Toumay.  The  young 
conqueror  was  eagerly  pressing  on  to  the  recovery  of  his  "  heritage  of 
France/'  when  he  found  himself  suddenly  left  alone  by  the  desertion  of 
Ferdinand  and  the  dissolution  of  the  league.  Henry  had  indeed  gained 
much.  The  might  of  France  was  broken.  The  Papacy  was  restored 
to  freedom.  England  had  again  figured  as  a  great  power  in  Europe. 
But  the  millions  left  by  his  father  were  exhausted,  his  subjects  had 
been  drained  by  repeated  subsidies,  and,  furious  as  he  wis  at  the 
treachery  of  his  Spanish  ally,  Henry  was  driven  to  conclude  a  peace. 
To  the  hopes  of  the  New  Learning  this  sudden  outbreak  of  the  spirit 
of  war,  this  change  of  the  monarch  from  whom  they  had  looked  for  a 
"new  order"  into  a  vulgar  conqueror,  proved  a  bitter  disappointment. 
Colet  thundered  from  the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's  that  "  an  unjust  peace  is 
better  than  the  justest  war,"  and  protested  that  "when  men  out  of 
hatred  and  ambition  fight  with  and  destroy  one  another,  they  fight  under 
the  banner,  not  of  Christ,  but  of  the  Devil."  Erasmus  quitted  Cambridge 
with  a  bitter  satire  against  the  "  madness  "  around  him.  "  It  is  the 
people,"  he  said,  in  words  which  must  have  startled  his  age, — "  it  is  the 
people  who  build  cities,  while  the  madness  of  princes  destroys  them." 
The  sovereigns  of  his  time  appeared  to  him  like  ravenous  birds  pounc- 
ing with  beak  and  claw  on  the  hard-won  wealth  and  knowledge  of 
mankind.  "  Kings  who  are  scarcely  men,"  he  exclaimed  in  bitter 
irony,  "  are  called  '  divine  ; '  they  are  '  invincible '  though  they  fly  from 
every  battle-field  ;  '  serene '  though  they  turn  the  world  upside  down  in 
a  storm  of  war  ;  'illustrious'  though  they  grovel  in  ignorance  of  all  that 
is  noble ;  '  Catholic '  though  they  follow  anything  rather  than  Christ. 
Of  all  birds  the  Eagle  alone  has  seemed  to  wise  men  the  type  of  royalty, 
a  bird  neither  beautiful  nor  musical  nor  good  for  food,  but  murderous, 
greedy,  hateful  to  all,  the  curse  of  all,  and  with  its  great  powers  of  doing 
harm  only  surpassed  by  its  desire  to  do  it,"  It  was  the  first  time  in 
modern  history  that  religion  had  formally  dissociated  itself  from  the 
ambition  of  princes  and  the  horrors  of  war,  or  that  the  new  spirit  of 
criticism  had  ventured  not  only  to  question  but  to  deny  what  had  till 
then  seemed  the  primary  truths  of  political  order.  We  shall  soon  sec 
to  what  further  length  the  new  speculations  were  pushed  by  a  greater 
thinker,  but  for  the  moment  the  indignation  of  the  New  Learning  was 
diverted  to  more  practical  ends  by  the  sudden  peace.  However  he  had 
disappointed  its  hopes,  Henry  still  remained  its  friend.  Through  all  the 
changes  of  his  terrible  career  his  home  was  a  home  of  letters.  His  boy, 
Edward  the  Sixth,  was  a  fair  scholar  in  both  the  classical  languages. 
His  daughter  Mary  wrote  good  Latin  letters.  Elizabeth  began  ever)' 
day  with  an  hour's  reading  in  the  Greek  Testament,  the  tragedies  ot 
Sophocles,  or  the  orations  of  Demosthenes.  The  ladies  of  the  court 
caught  the  royal  fashion,  and  were  found  poring  over  the  pages  of  Plato 
Widely  as  Henry's  ministers  differed  from  each  other,  they  all  agreeo 


V..1 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


313 


in  sharing  and  fostering  the  culture  around  them.  The  panic  of  the 
scholar-group  therefore  soon  passed  away.  The  election  of  Leo  the 
Tenth,  the  fellow-student  of  Linacre,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  seemed  to 
give  to  the  New  Learning  control  of  Christendom.  The  age  of  the 
turbulent,  ambitious  Julius  was  thought  to  be  over,  and  the  new  Pope 
declared  for  a  universal  peace.  "  Leo,"  wrote  an  English  agent  at  his 
Court,  in  words  to  which  after-history  lent  a  strange  meaning,  "would 
favour  literature  and  the  arts,  busy  himself  in  building,  and  enter  into 
no  war  save  through  actual  compulsion."  England,  under  the  new 
ministry  of  Wolsey,  withdrew  from  any  active  interference  in  the 
struggles  of  the  Continent,  and  seemed  as  resolute  as  Leo  himself  for 
peace.  Colet  toiled  on  with  his  educational  efforts  ;  Erasmus  forwarded 
to  England  the  works  which  English  liberality  was  enabling  him  to 
produce  abroad.  Warham  extended  to  him  as  generous  an  aid  as  the 
protection  he  had  afforded  to  Colet.  His  edition  of  the  works  of  St. 
Jerome  had  been  begun  under  Warham's  encouragement  during  the 
great  scholar's  residence  at  Cambridge,  and  it  appeared  with  a  dedica- 
tion to  the  Archbishop  on  its  title-page.  That  Erasmus  could  find  pro- 
tection in  Warham's  name  for  a  work  which  boldly  recalled  Christendom 
to  the  path  of  sound  Biblical  criticism,  that  he  could  address  him  in 
words  so  outspoken  as  those  of  his  preface,  shows  how  fully  the  Primate 
sympathized  with  the  highest  efforts  of  the  New  Learning.  Nowhere  had 
the  spirit  of  inquiry  so  firmly  set  itself  against  the  claims  of  authority. 
"  Synods  and  decrees,  and  even  councils,"  wrote  Erasmus,  "  are  by 
no  means  in  my  judgement  the  fittest  modes  of  repressing  error, 
unless  truth  depend  simply  on  authority.  But  on  the  contrary,  the 
more  dogmas  there  are,  the  more  fruitful  is  the  ground  in  producing 
heresies.  Never  was  the  Christian  faith  purer  or  more  undefiled  than 
when  the  world  was  content  with  a  single  creed,  and  that  the  shortest 
creed  we  have."  It  is  touching  even  now  to  listen  to  such  an  appeal 
of  reason  and  of  culture  against  the  tide  of  dogmatism  which  was 
soon  to  flood  Christendom  with  Augsburg  Confessions  and  Creeds  of 
Pope  Pius  and  Westminster  Catechisms  and  Thirty-nine  Articles.  The 
principles  which  Erasmus  urged  in  his  "Jerome"  were  urged  with  far 
greater  clearness  and  force  in  a  work  which  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
future  Reformation,  the  edition  of  the  Greek  Testament  on  which  he 
had  been  engaged  at  Cambridge,  and  whose  production  was  almost 
wholly  due  to  the  encouragement  and  assistance  he  received  from 
EngHsh  scholars.  In  itself  the  book  was  a  bold  defiance  of  theological 
tradition.  It  set  aside  the  Latin  version  of  the  Vulgate,  which  had 
secured  universal  acceptance  in  the  Church.  Its  method  of  interpreta- 
tion was  based,  not  on  received  dogmas,  but  on  the  literal  meaning  of 
the  text.  Its  real  end  was  the  end  at  which  Colet  had  aimed  in  his  j 
Oxford  lectures.  Erasmus  desired  to  set  Christ  himself  in  the  place 
of  the  Church,  to  recall  men  from  the  teachings  of  Christian  theologians 


3U 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


to  the  teachings  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity.  The  whole  value  of 
the  Gospels  to  him  lay  in  the  vividness  with  which  they  brought  home 
to  their  readers  the  personal  impression  of  Christ  himself.  "  Were  we 
to  have  seen  him  with  our  own  eyes,  we  should  not  have  so  intimate 
a  knowledge  as  they  give  us  of  Christ,  speaking,  healing,  dying,  rising 
again,  as  it  were  in  our  very  presence.'  All  the  superstitions  of 
mediaeval  worship  faded  away  in  the  light  of  this  personal  worship  of 
Christ.  "  If  the  footprints  of  Christ  are  shown  us  in  any  place,  we 
kneel  down  and  adore  them.  Why  do  we  not  rather  venerate  the 
living  and  breathing  picture  of  him  in  these  books  .'*  We  deck  statues 
of  wood  and  stone  with  gold  and  gems  for  the  love  of  Christ.  Yet  they 
only  profess  to  represent  to  us  the  outer  form  of  his  body,  while  these 
books  present  us  with  a  living  picture  of  his  holy  mind."  In  the  same 
way  the  actual  teaching  of  Christ  was  made  to  supersede  the  mysterious 
dogmas  of  the  older  ecclesiastical  teaching.  "  As  though  Christ  taught 
such  subtleties,"  burst  out  Erasmus  :  "  subtleties  that  can  scarcely  be 
understood  even  by  a  few  theologians — or  as  though  the  strength  of 
the  Christian  religion  consisted  in  man's  ignorance  of  it !  It  may  be 
the  safer  course,"  he  goes  on,  with  characteristic  irony,  "  to  conceal  the 
state-mysteries  of  kings,  but  Christ  desired  his  mysteries  to  be  spread 
abroad  as  openly  as  was  possible."  In  the  diffusion,  in  the  universal 
knowledge  of  the  teaching  of  Christ  the  foundation  of  a  reformed  Chris- 
tianity had  still,  he  urged,  to  be  laid.  With  the  tacit  approval  of  the 
Primate  of  a  Church  which  from  the  time  of  Wyclif  had  held  the  trans- 
lation and  reading  of  the  Bible  in  the  common  tongue  to  be  heresy  and 
a  crime  punishable  with  the  fire,  Erasmus  boldly  avowed  his  wish  for 
a  Bible  open  and  intelligible  to  all.  "  I  wish  that  even  the  weakest 
woman  might  read  the  Gospels  and  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.  I  wish 
that  they  were  translated  into  all  languages,  so  as  to  be  read  and 
understood  not  only  by  Scots  and  Irishmen,  but  even  by  Saracens 
and  Turks.  But  the  first  step  to  their  being  read  is  to  make  them  in- 
telligible to  the  reader.  I  long  for  the  day  when  the  husbandman 
shall  sing  portions  of  them  to  himself  as  he  follows  the  plough,  when 
the  weaver  shall  hum  them  to  the  tune  of  his  shuttle,  when  the 
traveller  shall  while  away  with  their  stories  the  weariness  of  his 
journey."  The  New  Testament  of  Erasmus  became  the  topic  of  the 
day  ;  the  Court,  the  Universities,  every  household  to  which  the  New 
Learning  had  penetrated,  read  and  discussed  it.  But  bold  as  its 
language  may  have  seemed,  Warham  not  only  expressed  his  approba- 
tion, but  lent  the  work-  -as  he  wrote  to  its  author — "to  bishop  after 
bishop."  The  most  influential  of  his  suffragans,  Bishop  Fox  of  Win- 
chester, declared  that  the  mere  version  was  worth  ten  commentaries : 
one  of  the  most  learned,  Fisher  of  Rochester,  entertained  Erasmus  at 
his  house. 
Daring  and  full  of  promise  as  were  these  efforts  of  the  New  Learning 


vr.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


31s 


in  the  direction  of  educational  and  religious  reform,  its  political  and 
social  speculations  took  a  far  wider  range  in  the  "  Utopia"  of  Thomas 
More.  Even  in  the  household  of  Cardinal  Morton,  where  he  had 
spent  his  childhood,  More's  precocious  ability  had  raised  the  highest 
hopes.  "  Whoever  may  live  to  see  it,"  the  grey-haired  statesman  used 
to  say,  "this  boy  now  waiting  at  table  will  turn  out  a  marvellous  man." 
We  have  seen  the  spell  which  his  wonderful  learning  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  temper  threw  over  Colet  and  Erasmus  at  Oxford,  and 
young  as  he  was,  More  no  sooner  quitted  the  University  than  he  was 
known  throughout  Europe  as  one  of  the  foremost  figures  in  the  new 
movement.  The  keen,  irregular  face,  the  grey  restless  eye,  the  thin 
mobile  lips,  the  tumbled  brown  hair,  the  careless  gait  and  dress,  as 
they  remain  stamped  on  the  canvas  of  Holbein,  picture  the  inner  soul 
of  the  man,  his  vivacity,  his  restless,  all-devouring  intellect,  his  keen 
and  even  reckless  wit,  the  kindly,  half-sad  humour  that  drew  its  strange 
veil  of  laughter  and  tears  over  the  deep,  tender  reverence  of  the  soul 
within.  In  a  higher,  because  in  a  sweeter  and  more  loveable  form  than 
Colet,  More  is  the  representative  of  the  religious  tendency  of  the  New 
Learning  in  England.  The  young  law-student  who  laughed  at  the 
superstition  and  asceticism  of  the  monks  of  his  day  wore  a  hair  shirt 
next  his  skin,  and  schooled  himself  by  penances  for  the  cell  he  desired 
among  the  Carthusians.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that  among 
all  the  gay,  profligate  scholars  of  the  Italian  Renascence  he  chose  as 
the  object  of  his  admiration  the  disciple  of  Savonarola,  Pico  di 
Mirandola.  Free-thinker  as  the  bigots  who  listened  to  his  daring 
speculations  termed  him,  his  eye  would  brighten  and  his  tongue  falter 
as  he  spoke  with  friends  of  heaven  and  the  after-life.  When  he  took 
office,  it  was  with  the  open  stipulation  "  first  to  look  to  God,  and  after 
God  to  the  King."  But  in  his  outer  bearing  there  was'  nothing  of  the 
monk  or  recluse.  The  brightness  and  freedom  of  the  New  Learning 
seemed  incarnate  in  the  young  scholar,  with  his  gay  talk,  his  win- 
someness  of  manner,  his  reckless  epijrams,  his  passionate  love  of 
music,  his  omnivorous  reading,  his  paradoxical  speculations,  his  gibes 
at  monks,  his  schoolboy  fervour  of  liberty.  But  events  were  soon  to 
prove  that  beneath  this  sunny  nature  lay  a  stern  inflexibility  of  con- 
scientious resolve.  The  Florentine  scholars  who  penned  declamations 
against  tyrants  had  covered  with  their  flatteries  the  tyranny  of  the 
house  of  Medici.  More  no  sooner  entered  Parliament  than  his  ready 
argument  and  keen  sense  of  justice  led  to  the  rejection  of  the  Royal 
demand  for  a  heavy  subsidy.  ''  A  beardless  boy,"  said  the  courtiers, — 
and  More  was  only  twenty-six, — ''has  disappointed  the  King's  pur- 
pose ; "  and  during  the  rest  of  Henry  the  Seventh's  reign  the  young 
lawyer  found  it  prudent  to  withdraw  from  public  life.  But  the  with- 
drawal had  little  effect  on  his  buoyant  activity.  He  rose  at  once 
into  repute  at  the  bar.      He  wrote  his  "  Life  of  Edward  the  Fifth." 


316 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ICHAP. 


the  first  work  in  which  what  we  may  call  modern  English  prose 
appears  written  with  purity  and  clearness  of  style  and  a  freedom 
either  from  antiquated  forms  of  expression  or  classical  pedantry. 
His  ascetic  dreams  were  replaced  by  the  affections  of  home.  It 
is  when  we  get  a  glimpse  of  him  in  his  house  at  Chelsea  that  we 
understand  the  endearing  epithets  which  Erasmus  always  lavishes 
upon  More.  The  delight  of  the  young  husband  was  to  train  the 
girl  he  had  chosen  for  his  wife  in  his  own  taste  for  letters  and 
for  music.  The  reserve  which  the  age  exacted  from  parents  was 
thrown  to  the  winds  in  More'b  intercourse  with  his  children.  He 
loved  teaching  them,  and  lured  them  to  their  deeper  studies  by  the 
coins  and  curiosities  he  had  gathered  in  his  cabinet.  He  was  as  fond 
of  their  pets  and  their  games  as  his  children  themselves,  and  would 
take  grave  scholars  and  statesmen  into  the  garden  to  see  his  girls' 
rabbit-hutches  or  to  watch  the  gambols  of  their  favourite  monkey. 
"  I  have  given  you  kisses  enough,"  he  wrote  to  his  little  ones  in  merry 
verse  when  far  away  on  political  business,  "  but  stripes  hardly  ever." 
The  accession  of  Henry  the  Eighth  dragged  him  back  into  the  politi- 
cal current.  It  was  at  his  house  that  Erasmus  penned  the  "  Praise 
of  Folly,"  and  the  work,  in  its  Latin  title,  ''  Moriae  Encomium," 
embodied  in  playful  fun  his  love  of  the  extravagant  humour  of  More. 
More  "  tried  as  hard  to  keep  out  of  Court,"  says  his  descendant,  "  as 
most  men  try  to  get  into  it."  When  the  charm  of  his  conversation 
gave  so  much  pleasure  to  the  young  sovereign,  "  that  he  could  not 
once  in  a  month  get  leave  to  po  home  to  his  wife  or  children,  whose 
company  he  much  desired,  ...  he  began  thereupon  to  dissemble 
his  nature,  and  so,  little  by  little,  from  his  former  mirth  to  dissemble 
himself."  More  shared  to  the  full  the  disappointment  of  his  frien  .s 
at  the  sudden  outbreak  of  Henry's  warlike  temper,  but  the  peace  again 
drew  him  to  Henry's  side,  and  he  was  soon  in  the  King's  confidence 
both  as  a  counsellor  and  as  a  diplomatist. 

It  was  on  one  of  his  diplomatic  missions  that  More  describes 
himself  as  hearing  news  of  the  Kingdom  of  "  Nowhere  "  "  On  a  cer- 
tain day  when  I  had  heard  mass  in  Our  Lady's  Church,  which  is 
the  fairest,  the  most  gorgeous  and  curious  church  of  building  in  all  the 
city  of  Antwerp,  and  also  most  frequented  of  people  and  service 
being  over  I  was  ready  to  go  home  to  my  lodgings,  I  chanced  to  espy 
my  friend  Peter  Gilles  talking  with  a  certain  stranger,  a  man  well 
stricken  in  age,  with  a  black  sun-burnt  face,  a  large  t>eard,and  a  cloke 
cast  trimly  about  his  shoulders,  whom  by  his  favour  and  apparell 
forthwith  1  judged  to  be  a  mariner."  The  sailor  turned  out  to  have 
been  a  companion  of  Amerigo  Vespucci  in  those  voyages  to  the  New 
World  "  that  be  now  in  print  and  abroad  in  every  man's  hand,"  and 
on  More's  invitation  he  accompanied  him  to  his  house,and  "there  in  my 
garden  upon  a  bench  covered  with  green  turves  we  sate  down,  talking 


vr.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


317 


together"of  the  man's  marvellous  adventures, his  desertion  in  America 
by  Vespucci,  his  wanderings  over  the  country  under  the  equinoctial 
line,  and  at  last  of  his  stay  in  the  Kingdom  of"  Nowhere."  It  was 
the  story  of  "  Nowhere,"  or  Utopia,  which  More  embodied  in  the  won- 
derful book  which  reveals  to  us  the  heart  of  the  New  Learning.  As 
yet  the  movement  had  been  one  of  scholars  and  divines.  Its  plans  of 
reform  had  been  almost  exclusively  intellectual  and  religious.  But  in 
More  the  same  free  play  of  thought  which  had  shaken  off  the  old 
forms  of  education  and  faith  turned  to  question  the  old  forms  of  society 
and  politics.  From  a  world  where  fifteen  hundred  years  of  Christian 
teaching  had  produced  social  injustice,  religious  intolerance,  and 
political  tyranny,  the  humourist  philosopher  turned  to  a  "  Nowhere  " 
in  which  the  mere  efforts  of  natural  human  virtue  realized  those 
ends  of  security,  equality,  brotherhood,  and  freedom  for  which  the 
very  institution  of  society  seemed  to  have  been  framed.  It  is  as  he 
wanders  through  this  dreamland  of  the  new  reason  that  More  touches 
the  great  problems  which  were  fast  opening  before  the  modern  world, 
problems  of  labour,  of  crime,  of  conscience,  of  government.  Merely 
to  have  seen  and  to  have  examined  questions  such  as  these  would 
prove  the  keenness  of  his  intellect,  but  its  far-reaching  originality  is 
shown  in  the  solutions  which  he  proposes.  Amidst  much  that  is 
the  pure  play  of  an  exuberant  fancy,  much  that  is  mere  recollection 
of  the  dreams  of  bygone  dreamers,  we  find  again  and  again  the 
most  important  social  and  political  discoveries  of  later  times  antici- 
pated by  the  genius  of  Thomas  More.  In  some  points,  such  as  his 
treatment  of  the  question  of  Labour,  he  still  remains  far  in  advance  of 
current  opinion.  The  whole  system  of  society  around  him  seemed  to 
him  "  nothing  but  a  conspiracy  of  the  rich  against  the  poor.''  Its 
economic  legislation  was  simply  the  carrying  out  of  such  a  conspiracy 
by  process  of  law.  "  The  rich  are  ever  striving  to  pare  away  some- 
thing further  from  the  daily  wages  of  the  poor  by  private  fraud  and 
even  by  public  law,  so  that  the  wrong  already  existing  (for  it  is  a  wrong 
that  those  from  whom  the  State  derives  most  benefit  should  receive 
least  reward)  is  made  yet  greater  by  means  of  the  law  of  the  State." 
"  The  rich  devise  every  means  by  which  they  may  in  the  first  place 
secure  to  themselves  what  they  have  amassed  by  wrong,  and  then  take 
to  their  own  use  and  profit  at  the  lowest  possible  price  the  work  and 
labour  of  the  poor.  And  so  soon  as  the  rich  decide  on  adopting  these 
devices  in  the  name  of  the  public,  then  they  become  law."  The  result 
was  the  wretched  existence  to  which  the  labour-class  was  doomed,  "  a 
life  so  wretched  that  even  a  beast's  life  seems  enviable."  No  such 
cry  of  pity  for  the  poor,  of  protest  against  the  system  of  agrarian  and 
manufacturing  tyranny  which  found  its  expression  in  the  Statute-book, 
had  been  heard  since  the  days  of  Piers  Ploughman.  But  from 
Christendom  More  turns  with  a  smile  to  ''  Nowhere."    In  "  Nowhere  " 


3i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  aim  of  legislation  is  to  secure  the  welfare,  social,  industrial,  intel- 
lectual, religious,  of  the  community  at  large,  and  of  the  labour-class 
as  the  true  basis  of  a  well  ordered  commonwealth.  The  end  of  it* 
labour-laws  was  simply  the  welfare  of  the  labourer.  Goods  were 
possessed  indeed  in  common,  but  work  was  compulsory  with  all.  The 
period  of  toil  was  shortened  to  the  nine  hours  demanded  by  modern 
artizans,  with  a  view  to  the  intellectual  improvement  of  the  worker. 
"  In  the  institution  of  the  weal  public  this  end  is  only  and  chiefly 
pretended  and  minded  that  what  time  may  possibly  be  spared 
from  the  necessary  occupations  and  affairs  of  the  commonwealth,  all 
that  the  citizens  should  withdraw  from  bodily  service  to  the  free 
liberty  of  the  mind  and  garnishing  of  the  same.  For  herein  they 
conceive  the  felicity  of  this  life  to  consist."  A  public  system  of 
education  enabled  the  Utopians  to  avail  themselves  of  their  leisure. 
While  in  England  half  of  the  population  could  read  no  English, 
every  child  was  well  taught  in  "  Nowhere."  The  physical  aspects  of 
society  were  cared  for  as  attentively  as  its  moral.  The  houses  of 
Utopia  "  in  the  beginning  were  very  low  and  like  homely  cottages  or 
poor  shepherd  huts  made  at  all  adventures  of  every  rude  piece  of  timber 
that  came  first  to  hand,  with  mud  walls  and  ridged  roofs  thatched 
over  with  straw."  The  picture  was  really  that  of  the  common 
English  town  of  More's  day,  the  home  of  squalor  and  pestilence. 
In  Utopia  however  they  had  at  last  come  to  realize  the  connexion 
between  public  morality  and  the  health  which  springs  from  light, 
air,  comfort,  and  cleanliness.  "  The  streets  were  twenty  feet  broad  ; 
the  houses  backed  by  spacious  gardens,  and  curiously  builded  after 
a  gorgeous  and  gallant  sort,  with  their  stories  one  after  another.  The 
outsides  of  the  walls  be  made  either  of  hard  flint,  or  of  plaster,  or  else 
of  brick  ;  and  the  inner  sides  be  well  strengthened  by  timber  work. 
The  roofs  be  plain  and  flat,  covered  over  with  plaster  so  tempered  that 
no  fire  can  hurt  or  perish  it,  and  withstanding  the  violence  of  the 
weather  better  than  any  lead.  They  keep  the  wind  out  of  their 
windows  with  glass,  for  it  is  there  much  used,  and  sometimes  also 
with  fine  linen  cloth  dipped  in  oil  or  amber,  and  that  for  two  commo- 
dities, for  by  this  means  more  light  cometh  in  and  the  wind  is  better 
kept  out." 

The  same  foresight  which  appears  in  More's  treatment  of  the  ques- 
tions of  Labour  and  the  Public  Health  is  yet  more  apparent  in  his 
treatment  of  the  question  of  Crime.  He  was  the  first  to  suggest  that 
punishment  was  less  effective  in  suppressing  it  than  prevention.  "  If 
you  allow  your  people  to  be  badly  taught,  their  morals  to  be  corrupted 
from  childhood,  and  then  when  they  are  men  punish  them  for  the  very 
crimes  to  which  they  have  been  trained  in  childhood — what  is  this  but 
to  make  thieves,  and  then  to  punish  them?"  He  was  the  first  to 
plead  for  proportion  between  the  punishment  and  the  crime,  and  to 


VI,  1 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


319 


point  out  the  folly  of  the  cruel  penalties  of  his  day.  "  Simple  theft  is 
not  so  great  an  offence  as  to  be  punished  with  death."  If  a  thief  and 
a  murderer  are  sure  of  the  same  penalty,  More  shows  that  the  law  is 
simply  tempting  the  thief  to  secure  his  theft  by  murder.  "  While  we 
go  about  to  make  thieves  afraid,  we  are  really  provoking  them  to  kill 
good  men."  The  end  of  all  punishment  he  declares  to  be  reforma- 
tion, "  nothing  else  but  the  destruction  of  vice  and  the  saving  of  men." 
He  advises  "  so  using  and  ordering  criminals  that  they  cannot  choose 
but  be  good  ;  and  what  harm  soever  they  did  before,  the  residue  of 
their  lives  to  make  amends  for  the  same."  Above  all,  he  urges  that  to  be 
remedial  punishment  must  be  wrought  out  by  labour  and  hope,  so  that 
"  none  is  hopeless  or  in  despair  to  recover  again  his  former  state  of 
freedom  by  giving  good  tokens  and  likelihood  of  himself  that  he  will 
ever  after  that  live  a  true  and  honest  man."  It  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  in  the  great  principles  More  lays  down  he  anticipated  every  one  of 
the  improvements  in  our  criminal  system  which  have  distinguished  the 
last  hundred  years.  His  treatment  of  the  religious  question  was  even 
more  in  advance  of  his  age.  If  the  houses  of  Utopia  were  strangely 
in  contrast  with  the  halls  of  England,  where  the  bones  from  every 
dinner  lay  rotting  in  the  dirty  straw  which  strewed  the  floor,  where 
the  smoke  curled  about  the  rafters,  and  the  wind  whistled  through 
the  unglazed  windows  ;  if  its  penal  legislation  had  little  likeness  to  the 
gallows  which  stood  out  so  frequently  against  our  English  sky  ;  the 
religion  of  "  Nowhere  "  was  in  yet  stronger  conflict  with  the  faith  of 
Christendom.  It  rested  simply  on  nature  and  reason.  It  held  that 
God's  design  was  the  happiness  of  man,  and  that  the  ascetic  rejection 
""""^f  human  delights,  save  for  the  common  good,  was  thanklessness  to 
the  Giver.  Christianity,  indeed,  had  already  reached  Utopia,  but  it 
had  few  priests  ;  religion  found  its  centre  rather  in  the  family  than  in 
the  congregation  :  and  each  household  confessed  its  faults  to  its  own 
natural  head,  A  yet  stranger  characteristic  was  seen  in  the  peaceable 
way  in  which  it  lived  side  by  side  with  the  older  religions.  More  than 
a  century  before  William  of  Orange,  More  discerned  and  proclaimed 
the  great  principle  of  religious  toleration.  In  "  Nowhere"  it  was  lawful 
to  every  man  to  be  of  what  religion  he  would.  Even  the  disbelievers 
in  a  Divine  Being  or  in  the  immortahty  of  man,  who  by  a  single 
exception  to  its  perfect  religious  indifference  were  excluded  from 
public  office,  were  excluded,  not  on  the  ground  of  their  religious  belief, 
but  because  their  opinions  were  deemed  to  be  degrading  to  mankind, 
and  therefore  to  incapacitate  those  who  held  them  from  governing  in 
a  noble  temper.  But  even  these  were  subject  to  no  punishment,  be- 
cause the  people  of  Utopia  were  "persuaded  that  it  is  not  in  a 
man's  power  to  believe  what  he  list."  The  religion  which  a  man  held 
he  might  propagate  by  argument,  though  not  by  violence  or  insult 
tr.  the   religion   of   others.     But  while  each  sect  performed  its  rites 


3^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


in  private,  all  assembled  for  public  worship  in  a  spacious  temple, 
where  the  vast  throng,  clad  in  white,  and  grouped  round  a  priest 
clothed  in  fair  raiment  wrought  marvellously  out  of  birds'  plumage, 
joined  in  hymns  and  prayers  so  framed  as  to  be  acceptable  to 
all.  The  importance  of  this  public  devotion  lay  in  the  evi- 
dence it  afforded  that  liberty  of  conscience  could  be  combined 
with  religious  unity. 


•  Section  v.— Wolaey.    1515-1531. 

[A uiAorifies.— The  chronicler  Halle,  who  wrote  under  Edward  the  Sixth,  has 
been  copied  for  Henry  the  Eighth's  reign  by  Grafton,  and  followed  by  Holin- 
shed.  But  for  any  real  knowledge  of  Wolsey's  administration  we  must  turn 
to  the  invaluable  prefaces  which  Professor  Brewer  has  prefixed  to  the  Calen- 
dars of  State  Papers  for  this  period,  and  to  the  State  Papers  themselves.] 

"  There  are  many  things  in  the  commonwealth  of  Nowhere,  which 
I  rather  wish  than  hope  to  see  adopted  in  our  own."  It  was  with 
these  words  of  characteristic  irony  that  More  closed  the  first  work 
which  embodied  the  dreams  of  the  New  Learning.  Destined  as  they 
were  to  fulfilment  in  the  course  of  ages,  its  schemes  of  social,  religious, 
and  political  reform  broke  helplessly  against  the  temper  of  the  time. 
At  the  very  moment  when  More  was  pleading  the  cause  of  justice 
between  rich  and  poor,  social  discontent  was  being  fanned  by  exactions 
into  a  fiercer  flame.  While  he  aimed  sarcasm  after  sarcasm  at  king- 
worship,  despotism  was  being  organized  into  a  system.  His  advocacy 
of  the  two  principles  of  religious  toleration  and  Christian  comprehen- 
sion coincides  almost  to  a  year  with  the  opening  of  the  strife  between 
the  Reformation  and  the  Papacy. 

"  That  Luther  has  a  fine  genius,"  laughed  Leo  the  Tenth,  when 
he  heard  that  a  German  Professor  had  nailed  some  Propositions 
denouncing  the  abuse  of  Indulgences,  or  of  the  Papal  power  to  remit 
certain  penalties  attached  to  the  commission  of  sins,  against  the 
doors  of  a  church  at  Wittenberg.  But  the  "  Quarrel  of  Friars,"  as  the 
controversy  was  termed  contemptuously  at  Rome,  soon  took  larger 
proportions.  If  at  the  outset  Luther  flung  himself  "prostrate  at  the 
feet "  of  the  Papacy,  and  owned  its  voice  as  the  voice  of  Christ,  the 
sentence  of  Leo  no  sooner  confirmed  the  doctrine  of  Indulgences  than 
their  opponent  appealed  to  a  future  Council  of  the  Church.  Two  years 
later  the  rupture  was  complete.  A  Papal  Bull  formally  condemned  the 
errors  of  the  Reformer.  The  condemnation  was  met  with  defiance,  and 
Luther  publicly  consigned  the  Bull  to  the  flames.  A  second  con- 
demnation expelled  him  from  the  bosom  of  the  Church,  and  the  ban  of 
the  Empire  was  soon  added  to  that  of  the  Papacy.  "  Here  stand  I  ; 
I  can  none  other,"  Luther  replied  to  the  young  Emperor,  Charles  the 
Fifth,  as  he  pressed  him  to  recant  in  the  Diet  of  Worms ;  and  frooi 


vi.J 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


321 


the  hiding-place  in  the  Thuringian  Forest  where  he  was  sheltered  by 
the  Elector  of  Saxony  he  denounced  not  merely,  as  at  first,  the  abuses 
of  the  Papacy,  but  the  Papacy  itself.  The  heresies  of  Wyclifwere 
revived  ;  the  infallibility,  the  authority  of  the  Roman  See,  the  truth  of 
its  doctrines,  the  efficacy  of  its  worship,  were  denied  and  scoffed  at  in 
vigorous  pamphlets  which  issued  from  his  retreat,  and  were  dispersed 
throughout  the  world  by  the  new  printing-press.  The  old  resentment 
of  Germany  against  the  oppression  of  Rome,  the  moral  revolt  in  its 
more  religious  minds  against  the  secularity  and  corruption  of  the 
Church,  the  disgust  of  the  New  Learning  at  the  superstition  which  the 
Papacy  now  formally  protected,  combined  to  secure  for  Luther  a  wide- 
cpread  popularity  and  the  protection  of  the  northern  princes  of  the 
Empire.  In  England  however  his  protest  found  as  yet  no  echo. 
England  and  Rome  were  drawn  to  a  close  alliance  by  the  difficulties 
of  their  political  position.  The  young  King  himself,  a  trained 
theologian  and  proud  of  his  theological  knowledge,  entered  the  lists 
against  Luther  with  an  "  Assertion  of  the  Seven  Sacraments,"  for 
which  he  was  rewarded  by  Leo  with  the  title  of  "  Defender  of  the 
Faith."  The  insolent  abuse  of  the  Reformer's  answer  called  More 
and  Fisher  into  the  field.  As  yet  the  New  Learning,  though  scared 
by  Luther's  intemperate  language,  had  steadily  backed  him  in  his 
struggle.  Erasmus  pleaded  for  him  with  the  Emperor ;  Ulrich  von 
Hutten  attacked  the  friars  in  satires  and  invectives  as  violent  as  his 
own.  But  the  temper  of  the  Renascence  was  even  more  antagonistic 
to  the  temper  of  Luther  than  that  of  Rome  itself.  From  the  golden 
dream  of  a  new  age,  wrought  peaceably  and  purely  by  the  slow  pro- 
gress of  intelligence,  the  growth  of  letters,  the  developement  of  human 
virtue,  the  Reformer  of  Wittemberg  turned  away  with  horror.  He  had 
little  or  no  sympathy  with  the  new  culture.  He  despised  reason  as 
heartily  as  any  Papal  dogmatist  could  despise  it.  He  hated  the  very 
thought  of  toleration  or  comprehension.  He  had  been  driven  by  a 
moral  and  intellectu.il  compulsion  to  declare  the  Roman  system  a  false 
one,  but  it  was  only  to  replace  it  by  another  -ystem  of  doctrine  just  as 
elaborate,  and  claiming  precisely  the  same  infallibility.  To  degrade 
human  nature  was  to  attack  the  very  base  of  the  New  Learning  ; 
but  Erasmus  no  sooner  advanced  to  its  defence  than  Luther  declared 
man  to  be  utterly  enslaved  by  original  sin  and  incapable  through  any 
efforts  of  his  own  of  discovering  truth  or  of  arriving  at  goodness. 
Such  a  doctrine  not  only  annihilated  the  piety  and  wisdom  of  the 
classic  past,  from  which  the  New  Learning  had  drawn  its  larger 
views  of  life  and  of  the  world  ;  it  trampled  in  the  dust  reason  itself, 
the  very  instrument  by  which  More  and  Erasmus  hoped  to  regene- 
rate both  knowledge  and  religion.  To  More  especially,  with  his 
keener  perception  of  its  future  effect,  this  sudden  revival  of  a 
purely  theological  and   dogmatic   spirit,   severing  Christendojn  into 

M 


122 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


warring  camps,  and  annihilating  all  hopes  of  union  and  tolerance, 
was  especially  hateful.  The  temper  which  hitherto  had  seemed  so 
"endearing,  gentle,  and  happy,"  suddenly  gave  way.  His  reply  to 
Luther's  attack  upon  the  King  sank  to  the  level  of  the  work  it 
answered.  That  of  Fisher  was  calmer  and  more  argumentative  ; 
but  the  divorce  of  the  New  Learning  from  the  Reformation  was 
complete. 

Nor  were  the  poliiical  hopes  of  the  "  Utopia"  destined  to  be  realized 
by  the  minister  who  at  the  close  of  Henry's  early  war  with  France 
mounted  rapidly  into  power.  Thomas  Wolsey  was  the  son  of  a  wealthy 
townsman  of  Ipswich,  whose  ability  had  raised  him  into  notice  at  the 
close  of  the  preceding  reign,  and  who  had  been  taken  by  Bishop  Fox 
into  the  service  of  the  Crown.  His  extraordinary  powers  hardly  per- 
haps required  the  songs,  dances,  and  carouses  with  his  indulgence 
in  which  he  was  taunted  by  his  enemies,  to  aid  him  in  winning  the 
favour  of  the  young  soverign.  From  the  post  of  favourite  he  soon  rose 
to  that  of  minister.  Henry's  resentment  at  Ferdinand's  perfidy  enabled 
Wolsey  to  carry  out  a  policy  which  reversed  that  of  his  predecessors. 
The  war  had  freed  England  from  the  fear  of  French  pressure.  Wolsey 
was  as  resolute  to  free  her  from  the  dictation  of  Ferdinand,  and  saw  in 
a  French  alliance  the  best  security  for  English  independence.  In  15 14 
a  treaty  was  concluded  with  Lewis.  The  same  friendship  was  continued 
to  his  successor  Francis  the  First,  whose  march  across  the  Alps  for  the 
reconquest  of  Loiiibardy  was  facilitated  by  Henry  and  Wolsey,  in  the 
hope  that  while  the  war  lasted  England  would  be  free  from  all  fear  of 
attack,  and  that  Francis  himself  might  be  brought  to  inevitable  ruin. 
These  hopes  were  defeated  by  his  greit  victory  at  Marignano.  But 
Francis  in  the  monent  of  triumph  saw  himself  confronted  by  a  new 
rival.  MasterofCastileandAragon,  of  Naples  and  the  Netherlands,  the 
new  Spanish  King,  Charles  the  Fifth,  rose  into  a  check  on  the  French 
monarchy  such  as  the  policy  of  Henry  or  Wolsey  had  never  been  able 
to  construct  before.  The  alliance  of  P^ngland  was  eagerly  sought  by 
both  sides,  and  the  administration  of  Wolsey,  amid  all  its  ceaseless 
diplomacy,  for  seven  years  kept  England  out  of  war.  The  Peace,  as 
we  have  seen,  restored  the  hopes  of  the  New  Learning;  it  enabled 
Colet  to  reform  education,  Erasmus  to  undertake  the  regeneration  of 
the  Church,  More  to  set  on  foot  a  new  science  of  politics.  But  peace 
as  Wolsey  used  it  was  fatal  to  English  freedom.  In  the  political  hints 
which  lie  scattered  over  the  "Utopia"  More  notes  with  bitter  irony 
the  advance  of  the  new  despotism.  It  was  only  in  "  Nowhere"  that 
a  sovereign  was  "  removeable  on  suspicion  of  a  design  to  enslave 
his  people."  In  England  the  work  of  slavery  was  being  quietly 
wrought,  hints  the  great  lawyer,  through  the  law.  "  There  will 
never  be  wanting  some  pretence  for  deciding  in  the  King's  favour; 
as  that  equity  is  on  his  side,  or  the  strict  letter  of  the  law,  or  some 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


3^3 


forced  interpretation  of  it ;  or  if  none  of  these,  that  the  royal  pre- 
rogative ought  with  conscientious  judges  to  outweigh  all  other  con- 
siderations." We  are  startled  at  the  precision  with  which  More 
maps  out  the  expedients  by  which  the  law  courts  were  to  lend 
themselves  to  the  advance  of  tyranny  till  their  crowning  judgement 
in  the  case  of  ship-money.  But  behind  these  judicial  expedients 
lay  great  principles  of  absolutism,  which  partly  from  the  example 
of  foreign  monarchies,  partly  from  the  sense  of  social  and  political 
insecurity,  and  yet  more  from  the  isolated  position  of  the  Crown,  were 
gradually  winning  their  way  in  public  opinion.  "  These  notions,"  he 
goes  boldly  on,  "  are  fostered  by  the  maxim  that  the  king  can  do  no 
wrong,  however  much  he  may  wish  to  do  it ;  that  not  only  the  property 
but  the  persons  of  his  subjects  are  his  own  ;  and  that  a  man  has  aright 
to  no  more  than  the  king's  goodness  thinks  fit  not  to  take  from  him." 
In  the  hands  of  Wolsey  these  maxims  were  transformed  into  principles 
of  State.  The  checks  which  had  been  imposed  on  the  action  of  the  sove- 
reign by  the  presence  of  great  prelates  and  nobles  at  his  council  were 
practically  removed.  All  authority  was  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  a 
single  minister.  Henry  had  munificently  rewarded  Wolsey's  services 
to  the  Crown.  He  had  been  promoted  to  the  See  of  Lincoln  and  thence 
to  the  Archbishoprick  of  York.  Henry  procured  his  elevation  to  the 
rank  of  Cardinal,  and  raised  him  to  the  post  of  Chancellor.  The 
revenues  of  two  sees  whose  tenants  were  foreigners  fell  into  his 
hands ;  he  held  the  bishoprick  of  Winchester  and  the  abbacy  of  St. 
Albans ;  he  was  in  receipt  of  pensions  from  France  and  Spain,  while 
his  official  emoluments  were  enormous.  His  pomp  was  almost  royal. 
A  train  of  prelates  and  nobles  followed  him  wherever  he  moved ;  his 
household  was  composed  of  five  hundred  persons  of  noble  birth,  and 
its  chief  posts  were  held  by  knights  and  barons  of  the  realm.  He  spent 
his  vast  wealth  with  princely  ostentation.  Two  of  his  houses,  Hampton 
Court  and  York  House,  the  later  Whitehall,  were  splendid  enough  to 
serve  at  his  fall  as  royal  palaces.  His  school  at  Ipswich  was  eclipsed 
by  the  glories  of  his  foundation  at  Oxford,  whose  name  of  Cardinal 
College  has  been  lost  in  its  later  title  of  Christ-church.  Nor  was  this 
magnificence  a  mere  show  of  power.  The  whole  dire.tion  of  home  and 
foreign  affairs  rested  with  Wolsey  alone  ;  as  Chancellor  he  stood  at  the 
head  of  public  justice  ;  his  elevation  to  the  office  of  Legate  rendered 
him  supreme  in  the  Church.  Enormous  as  was  the  mass  of  work  which 
he  undertook,  it  was  thoroughly  done  :  his  administration  of  the  royal 
treasury  was  economical ;  the  number  of  his  despatches  is  hardly  less 
remarkable  than  the  care  bestowed  upon  each  ;  even  More,  an  avowed 
enemy,  confesses  that  as  Chancellor  he  surpassed  all  men's  expecta- 
tions. The  court  of  Chancery,  indeed,  became  so  crowded  through  the 
character  for  expedition  and  justice  which  it  gained  under  his  rule  that 
subordinate  courts  had  to  be  created  for  its  relief.     It  was  this  concen- 


324 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


tration  of  all  secular  and  ecclesiastical  power  in  a  single  hand  which 
accustomed  England  to  the  personal  government  which  began  with 
Henry  the  Eighth  ;  and  it  was,  above  all,  Wolsey's  long  tenure  of  the 
whole  Papal  authority  within  the  realm,  and  the  consequent  suspension 
of  appeals  to  Rome,  that  led  men  to  acquiesce  at  a  later  time  in  Henry's 
claim  of  religious  supremacy.  For  proud  as  was  Wolsey's  bearing  and 
high  as  were  his  natural  powers  he  stood  before  England  as  the  mere 
creature  of  the  King.  Greatness,  wealth,  authority  he  held,  and  owned 
he  held,  simply  at  the  royal  will.  In  raising  his  low-born  favourite  to 
the  head  of  Church  and  State  Henry  was  gathering  all  religious  as  well 
as  all  civil  authority  into  his  personal  grasp.  The  nation  which 
trembled  before  Wolsey  learned  to  tremble  before  the  King  who  could 
destroy  Wolsey  by  a  breath. 

The  rise  of  Charles  of  Austria  gave  a  new  turn  to  Wolsey's  policy. 
Possessor  of  the  Netherlands,  of  Franche  Comt^,  of  Spain,  the  death 
of  his  grandfather  Maximilian  added  to  his  dominions  the  heritage  of 
the  House  of  Austria  in  Swabia  and  on  the  Danube,  and  opened  the 
way  for  his  election  as  Emperor.  France  saw  herself  girt  in  on  every 
side  by  a  power  greater  than  her  own  ;  and  to  Wolsey  and  his  master 
the  time  seemed  come  for  a  bolder  game.  Disappointed  in  his  hopes 
of  obtaining  the  Imperial  crown  on  the  death  of  Maximilian,  Henry 
turned  to  the  dream  of  "  recovering  his  French  inheritance,"  which  he 
had  never  really  abandoned,  and  which  was  carefully  fed  by  his  nephew 
Charles.  Nor  was  Wolsey  forgotten.  If  Henry  coveted  France,  his 
minister  coveted  no  less  a  prize  than  the  Papacy  ;  and  the  young 
Emperor  was  lavish  of  promises  of  support  in  any  coming  election. 
The  result  of  these  seductions  was  quickly  seen.  In  May,  1520, 
Charles  landed  at  Dover  to  visit  Henry,  and  King  and  Emperor 
rode  alone  to  Canterbury.  It  was  in  vain  that  Francis  strove  to 
retain  Henry's  friendship  by  an  interview  near  Guisnes,  to  which 
the  profuse  expenditure  of  both  monarchs  gave  the  name  of  the 
Field  of  Cloth  of  Gold.  A  second  interview  between  Charles  and 
his  uncle  as  he  returned  from  the  meeting  with  Francis  ended  in 
a  secret  confederacy  of  the  two  sovereigns,  and  the  promise  of  the 
Emperor  to  marry  Henry's  one  child,  Mary  Tudor.  Her  right  to 
the  throne  was  asserted  by  a  deed  which  proved  how  utterly  the 
baronage  now  lay  at  the  mercy  of  the  King.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham 
stood  first  in  blood  as  in  power  among  the  English  nobles  ;  he  was  the 
descendant  of  Edward  the  Third's  youngest  son,  and  if  Mar)''s  succes- 
sion were  denied  he  stood  heir  to  the  throne.  His  hopes  had  been 
fanned  by  prophets  and  astrologers,  and  wild  words  told  his  purpose 
to  seize  the  Crow  ft  on  Henry's  death  in  defiance  of  every  opponent. 
But  word  and  act  had  for  two  years  been  watched  by  the  King ;  and 
in  1 52 1  the  Duke  was  arrested,  condemned  as  a  traitor  by  his  peers, 
and  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill.    The  French  alliance  came  to  an  end. 


sri.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


325 


and  at  the  outbreak  of  war  between  France  and  Spain  a  secret  league 
was  concluded  at  Calais  between  the  Pope,  the  Emperor,  and  Henry. 
The  first  result  of  the  new  war  policy  at  home  was  quickly  seen. 
Wolsey's  economy  had  done  nothing  more  than  tide  the  Crown  through 
the  past  years  of  peace.  But  now  that  Henry  had  promised  to  raise 
forty  thousand  men  for  the  coming  campaign  the  ordinary  resources 
of  the  treasury  were  utterly  insufficient.  With  the  instinct  of  despotism 
Wolsey  shrank  from  reviving  the  tradition  of  the  Parliament. 
Though  Henry  had  thrice  called  together  the  Houses  to  supply  the 
expenses  of  his  earlier  struggle  with  France,  Wolsey  governed  during 
seven  years  of  peace  without  once  assembling  them.  War  made  a 
Parliament  inevitable,  but  for  a  while  the  Cardinal  strove  to  delay  its 
summons  by  a  wide  extension  of  the  practice  which  Edward  the  Fourth 
had  invented  of  raising  money  by  forced  loans  or  "  Benevolences,"  to  be 
repaid  from  the  first  subsidy  of  a  coming  Parliament.  Large  sums 
were  assessed  on  every  county.  Twenty  thousand  pounds  were  exacted 
from  London  ;  and  its  wealthier  citizens  were  summoned  before  the 
Cardinal  and  required  to  give  an  account  of  the  value  of  their  estates. 
Commissioners  were  despatched  into  each  shire  for  the  purposes  of 
assessment,  and  precepts  were  issued  on  their  information,  requiring  in 
some  cases  supplies  of  soldiers,  in  others  a  tenth  of  a  man's  income, 
for  the  King's  service.  So  poor,  however,  was  the  return  that  in  the 
following  year  Wolsey  was  forced  to  summon  Parliament  and  lay 
before  it  the  unprecedented  demand  of  a  property-tax  of  twenty  per 
cent.  The  demand  was  made  by  the  Cardinal  in  person,  but  he  was 
received  with  obstinate  silence.  It  was  in  vain  that  Wolsey  called  on 
member  after  member  to  answer ;  and  his  appeal  to  More,  who  had 
been  elected  to  the  chair  of  the  House  of  Commons,  was  met  by  the 
Speaker's  falling  on  his  knees  and  representing  his  powerlessness  to 
reply  till  he  had  received  instructions  from  the  House  itself.  The 
effort  to  overawe  the  Commons  failed,  and  Wolsey  no  sooner  withdrew 
than  an  angry  debate  began.  He  again  returned  to  answer  the 
objections  which  had  been  raised,  and  again  the  Commons  foiled  the 
minister's  attempt  to  influence  their  deliberations  by  refusing  to  dis- 
discuss  the  matter  in  his  presence.  The  struggle  continued  for  a 
fortnight ;  and  though  successful  in  procuring  a  subsidy,  the  court 
party  were  forced  to  content  themselves  with  less  than  half  Wolsey's 
demand.  Convocation  betrayed  as  independent  a  spirit ;  and  when 
money  was  again  needed  two  years  later,  the  Cardinal  was  driven 
once  more  to  the  system  of  Benevolences.  A  tenth  was  demanded 
from  the  laity,  and  a  fourth  from  the  clergy  in  every  county  by 
the  royal  commissioners.  There  was  "sore  grudging  and  murmur- 
ing," Warham  wrote  to  the  court,  "among  the  people."  "If  men 
should  give  their  goods  by  a  commission,"  said  the  Kentish  squires, 
"then   it   would  be  worse  than  the   taxes  of  France,  and  England 


326 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


should  be  bond,  not  free."  The  political  instinct  of  the  nation  dis- 
cerned as  of  old  that  in  the  question  of  self-taxation  was  involved  that 
of  the  very  existence  of  freedom.  The  clergy  put  themselves  in  the 
forefront  of  the  resistance,  and  preached  from  every  pulpit  that  the 
commission  was  contrary  to  the  liberties  of  the  realm,  and  that  the 
King  could  take  no  man's  goods  but  by  process  of  law.  So  stirred 
was  the  nation  that  Wolsey  bent  to  the  storm,  and  offered  to  rely  on 
the  voluntary  loans  of  each  subject.  But  the  statute  of  Richard  the 
Third  which  declared  all  exaction  of  benevolences  illegal  was  recalled 
to  memory  ;  the  demand  was  evaded  by  London,  and  the  commissioners 
were  driven  out  of  Kent.  A  revolt  broke  out  in  Suffolk  ;  the  men  of 
Cambridge  and  Norwich  threatened  to  rise.  There  was  in  fact  a 
general  strike  of  the  employers.  Clothmakers  discharged  their 
workers,  farmers  put  away  their  servants.  "  They  say  the  King  asketh 
so  much  that  they  be  not  able  to  do  as  they  have  done  before  this 
time."  Such  a  peasant  insurrection  as  was  raging  in  Germany  was 
only  prevented  by  the  unconditional  withdrawal  of  the  royal  demand. 

Wolsey's  defeat  saved  English  freedom  for  the  moment ;  but  the 
danger  from  which  he  shrank  was  not  merely  that  of  a  conflict  with 
the  sense  of  liberty.  The  murmurs  of  the  Kentish  squires  only  swelled 
the  ever-deepening  voice  of  public  discontent.  If  the  condition  of  the 
land  question  in  the  end  gave  strength  to  the  Crown  by  making  it  the 
security  for  public  order,  it  became  a  terrible  peril  at  every  crisis  of 
conflict  between  the  monarchy  and  the  landowners.  The  steady  rise 
in  the  price  of  wool  was  giving  a  fresh  impulse  to  the  agrarian  changes^ 
which  had  now  been  going  on  for  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  years, 
to  the  throwing  together  of  the  smaller  holdings,  and  the  introduction 
of  sheep-farming  on  an  enormous  scale.  The  new  wealth  of  the 
merchant  classes  helped  on  the  change.  They  invested  largely  in  land, 
and  these  "farming  gentlemen  and  clerking  knights,"  as  Latimer 
bitterly  styled  them,  were  restrained  by  few  traditions  or  associations 
in  their  eviction  of  the  smaller  tenants.  The  land  indeed  had  been 
greatly  underlet,  and  as  its  value  rose  the  temptation  to  raise  the 
customary  rents  became  irresistible.  "  That  which  went  heretofore 
for  twenty  or  forty  pounds  a  year,"  we  learn  from  the  same  source, 
"now  is  let  for  fifty  or  a  hundred."  But  it  had  been  only  by  this 
low  scale  of  rent  that  the  small  yeomanry  class  had  been  enabled 
to  exist.  "  My  father,"  says  Latimer,  "was  a  yeoman,  and  had  no 
lands  of  his  own  ;  only  he  had  a  farm  of  three  or  four  pounds  by 
the  year  at  the  uttermost,  and  hereupon  he  tilled  so  much  as  kept 
half-a-dozen  men  He  had  walk  for  a  hundred  sheep,  and  my 
mother  milked  thirty  kine  ;  he  was  able  and  did  find  the  King  a 
harness  with  himself  and  his  horse  while  he  came  to  the  place 
that  he  should  receive  the  King  s  wages.  I  can  remember  that  I 
buckled  his  harness  when  he  went  to   Blackheath   Field.     He  kept 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


327 


me  to  school :  he  married  my  sisters  with  five  pounds  apiece,  so 
that  he  brought  them  up  in  godhness  and  fear  of  God.  He  kept 
hospitahty  for  his  poor  neighbours,  and  some  alms  he  gave  to  the 
poor,  and  all  this  he  did  of  the  same  farm,  where  he  that  now  hath  it 
payeth  sixteen  pounds  by  year  or  more,  and  is  not  able  to  do  anything 
for  his  prince,  for  himself,  nor  for  his  children,  or  give  a  cup  of  drink 
to  the  poor."  Increase  of  rent  ended  with  such  tenants  in  the  relin- 
quishment of  their  holdings,  but  the  bitterness  of  ejection  was  increased 
by  the  iniquitous  means  which  were  often  employed  to  bring  it  about. 
The  farmers,  if  we  believe  More  in  15 15,  were  "got  rid  of  either  by 
fraud  or  force,  or  tired  out  with  repeated  wrongs  into  parting  with 
their  property."  "  In  this  way  it  comes  to  pass  that  these  poor 
wretches,  men,  women,  husbands,  orphans,  widows,  parents  with  little 
children,  households  greater  in  number  than  in  wealth  (for  arable 
farming  requires  many  hands,  while  one  shepherd  and  herdsman  will 
suffice  for  a  pasture  farm),  all  these  emigrate  from  their  native  fields 
without  knowing  where  to  go."  The  sale  of  their  scanty  household 
stuff  drove  them  to  wander  homeless  abroad,  to  be  thrown  into  prison 
as  vagabonds,  to  beg  and  to  steal.  Yet  in  the  face  of  such  a  spectacle 
as  this  we  still  find  the  old  complaint  of  scarcity  of  labour,  and  the  old 
legal  remedy  for  it  in  a  fixed  scale  of  wages.  Ihe  social  disorder,  in 
fact,  baffled  the  sagacity  of  English  statesmen,  and  they  could  find  no 
better  remedy  for  it  than  laws  against  the  further  extension  of  sheep- 
farms,  and  a  terrible  increase  of  public  executions.  Both  were  alike 
fruitless.  Enclosures  and  evictions  went  on  as  before.  "  If  you  do 
not  remedy  the  evils  which  produce  thieves,"  More  urged  with  bitter 
truth,  "  the  rigorous  execution  of  justice  in  punishing  thieves  will  be 
vain."  But  even  More  could  only  suggest  a  remedy  which,  efficacious 
as  it  was  subsequently  to  prove,  had  yet  to  wait  a  century  for  its  reali- 
zation. "  Let  the  woollen  manufacture  be  introduced,  so  that  honest 
employment  may  be  found  for  those  whom  want  has  made  thieves  or 
will  make  thieves  ere  long."  The  mass  of  social  disorder  grew  steadily 
greater  ;  while  the  break  up  of  the  great  military  households  of  the 
nobles  which  was  still  going  on,  and  the  return  of  wounded  and  dis- 
abled soldiers  from  the  wars,  introduced  a  dangerous  leaven  of  outrage 
and  crime. 

This  public  discontent,  as  well  as  the  exhaustion  of  the  treasury, 
added  bitterness  to  the  miserable  result  of  the  war.  To  France, 
indeed,  the  struggle  had  been  disastrous,  for  the  loss  of  the  Milanese 
and  the  capture  of  Francis  the  First  in  the  defeat  of  Pavia  laid  her  at 
the  feet  of  the  Emperor.  But  Charles  had  no  purpose  of  carrying  out 
the  pledges  by  which  he  had  lured  England  into  war.  Wolsey  had 
seen  two  partizans  of  the  Emperor  successively  raised  to  the  Papal 
chair.  The  schemes  of  winning  anew  "  our  inheritance  of  France  " 
had  ended  in  utter  failure  ;  England,  as  before,  gained  nothing  from 


328 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


two  useless  campaigns,  and  it  was  plain  that  Charles  meant  it  to  win 
nothing.  He  concluded  an  armistice  with  his  prisoner  ;  he  set  aside 
all  projects  of  a  joint  invasion  ;  he  broke  his  pledge  to  wed  Mary 
Tudor,  and  married  a  princess  of  Portugal  ;  he  pressed  for  peace 
with  France  which  would  give  him  Burgundy.  It  was  time  for 
Henry  and  his  minister  to  change  their  course.  They  resolved  to 
withdraw  from  all  active  part  in  the  rivalry  of  the  two  powers, 
and  a  treaty  was  secretly  concluded  with  France.  But  Henry  re- 
mained on  fair  terms  with  the  Emperor,  and  abstained  from  any 
part  in  the  fresh  war  which  broke  out  on  the  refusal  of  the  French 
monarch  to  fulfil  the  terms  by  which  he  had  purchased  his  release. 
No  longer  spurred  by  the  interest  of  great  events,  the  King  ceased  to 
take  a  busy  part  in  foreign  politics,  and  gave  himself  to  hunting  and 
sport.  Among  the  fairest  and  gayest  ladies  of  his  court  stood  Anne 
Boleyn.  Her  gaiety  and  wit  soon  won  Henry's  favour,  and  grants  of 
honours  to  her  father  marked  her  influence.  In  1524  a  new  colour 
was  given  to  this  intimacy  by  a  resolve  on  the  King's  part  to 
break  his  marriage  with  the  Queen^  The  death  of  every  child  save 
Mary  may  have  woke  scruples  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  a  marriage  on 
which  a  curse  seemed  to  rest  ;  the  need  of  a  male  heir  may  have 
deepened  this  impression.  But,  whatever  were  the  grounds  of  his 
action,  Henry  from  this  moment  pressed  the  Roman  See  to  grant  him 
a  divorce.  Clement's  consent  to  his  wish,  however,  would  mean  a  break 
with  the  Emperor,  Catharine's  nephew  ;  and  the  Pope  was  now  at  the 
Emperor's  mercy,  While  the  English  envoy  was  mooting  the  question 
of  divorce,  the  surprise  of  Rome  by  an  Imperial  force  brought  home 
to  Clement  his  utter  helplessness  ;  the  next  year  the  Pope  was  in 
fact  a  prisoner  in  the  Emperor's  hands  after  the  storm  and  sack  of 
Rome.  Meanwhile  a  secret  suit  which  had  been  brought  before 
Wolsey  as  legate  was  suddenly  dropped  ;  as  Catharine  denied  the 
facts  on  which  Henry  rested  his  case  her  appeal  would  have 
carried  the  matter  to  the  tribunal  of  the  Pope,  and  Clement's 
decision  could  hardly  have  been  a  favourable  one.  The  difficulties 
of  the  divorce  were  indeed  manifest.  One  of  the  most  learned  of  the 
English  bishops,  Fisher  of  Rochester,  declared  openly  against  it. 
The  English  theologians,  who  were  consulted  on  the  validity  of 
the  Papal  dispensation  which  had  allowed  Henry's  marriage  to  take 
place,  referred  the  King  to  the  Pope  for  a  decision  of  the  question. 
The  commercial  classes  shrank  from  a  step  which  involved  an  irre- 
trievable breach  with  the  Emperor,  who  was  master  of  their  great 
market  in  Flanders.  Above  all,  the  iniquity  of  the  proposal  jarred 
against  the  public  conscience.  But  neither  danger  nor  shame  availed 
against  the  King's  wilfulness  and  passion.  A  great  party  too  had 
gathered  to  Anne's  support.  Her  uncle  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  her 
father,  now  Lord  Rochford,  afterwards  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  pushed  the 


VI. 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


3^9 


divorce  resolutely  on  ;  the  brilliant  group  of  young  courtiers  to  which 
her  brother  belonged  saw  in  her  success  their  own  elevation  ;  and  the 
Duke  of  Suffolk  with  the  bulk  of  the  nobles  hoped  through  her  means 
to  bring  about  the  ruin  of  the  statesman  before  whom  they  trembled. 
It  was  needful  for  the  Cardinal  to  find  some  expedients  to  carry  out 
the  King's  will ;  but  his  schemes  one  by  one  broke  down  before  the 
difficulties  of  the  Papal  Court.  Clement  indeed,  perplexed  at  once 
by  his  wish  to  gratify  Henry,  his  own  conscientious  doubts  as  to 
the  course  proposed,  and  his  terror  of  the  Emperor  whose  power 
was  now  predominant  in  Italy,  even  blamed  Wolsey  for  having 
hindered  the  King  from  judging  the  matter  in  his  own  realm,  and 
marrying  on  the  sentence  of  his  own  courts.  Henry  was  resolute 
in  demanding  the  express  sanction  of  the  Pope  to  his  divorce,  and 
this  Clement  steadily  evaded.  He  at  last,  however,  consented  to 
a  legatine  commission  for  the  trial  of  the  case  in  England.  In 
this  commission  Cardinal  Campeggio  was  joined  with  Wolsey. 
Months  however  passed  in  fruitless  negotiations.  The  Cardinals 
pressed  on  Catharine  the  expediency  of  her  withdrawal  to  a  religious 
house,  while  Henry  pressed  on  the  Pope  that  of  a  settlement  of  the 
matter  by  his  formal  declaration  against  the  validity  of  the  marriage. 
At  last  in  1529  the  two  Legates  opened  their  court  in  the  great  hall  of 
the  Blackfriars.  Henry  briefly  announced  his  resolve  to  live  no 
longer  in  mortal  sin.  The  Queen  offered  an  appeal  to  Clement,  and 
on  the  refusal  of  the  Legates  to  admit  it  she  flung  herself  at  Henry's 
feet.  "  Sire,"  said  Catharine,  "  I  beseech  you  to  pity  me,  a  woman 
and  a  stranger,  without  an  assured  friend  and  without  an  indifferent 
counsellor.  I  take  God  to  witness  that  I  have  always  been  to  you  a 
true  and  loyal  wife,  that  I  have  made  it  my  constant  duty  to  seek 
your  pleasure,  that  I  have  loved  all  whom  you  loved,  whether  I  have 
reason  or  not,  whether  they  are  friends  to  me  or  foes.  I  have 
been  your  wife  for  years,  I  have  brought  you  many  children.  God 
knows  that  when  I  came  to  your  bed  I  was  a  virgin,  and  I  put  it  to 
your  own  conscience  to  say  whether  it  was  not  so.  If  there  be  any 
offence  which  can  be  alleged  against  me  I  consent  to  depart  with 
infamy  ;  if  not,  then  I  pray  you  to  do  me  justice."  The  piteous  appeal 
was  wasted  on  a  King  who  was  already  entertaining  Anne  Boleyn  with 
royal  state  in  his  own  palace.  The  trial  proceeded,  and  the  court 
assembled  to  pronounce  sentence.  Henry's  hopes  were  at  their 
highest  when  they  were  suddenly  dashed  to  the  ground.  At  the 
opening  of  the  proceedings  Campeggio  rose  to  declare  the  court 
adjourned.  The  adjournment  was  a  mere  evasion.  The  pressure  of 
the  Imperialists  had  at  last  forced  Clement  to  summon  the  cause  to 
his  own  tribunal  at  Rome,  and  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Legates  was 
at  an  end. 

"  Now  see  I,"  cried  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  as  he  dashed  his  hand  on 


330 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sfc.  V. 

WOLSEY 

1515 

TO 

1531 

The  Fall 

of 
Wolaey 


*-     1529 


Death  of 
WoUey 
1530 


the  table,  "  that  the  old  saw  is  true,  that  there  was  never  Legate  or 
Cardinal  that  did  good  to  England  ! "  "  Of  all  men  living,"  Wolsey 
boldly  retorted,  "you,  my  lord  Duke,  have  the  least  reason  to  dispraise 
Cardinals,  for  if  I,  a  poor  Cardinal,  had  not  been,  you  would  not  now 
have  had  a  head  on  your  shoulders  wherewith  to  make  such  a  brag  in 
disrepute  of  us."  But  both  the  Cardinal  and  his  enemies  knew  that 
the  minister's  doom  was  sealed.  Through  the  twenty  years  of  his  reign 
Henry  had  known  nothing  of  opposition  to  his  will.  His  imperious 
temper  had  chafed  at  the  weary  negotiations,  the  subterfuges  and 
perfidies  of  the  Pope  His  wrath  fell  at  once  on  Wolsey,  who  had 
dissuaded  him  from  acting  at  the  first  independently,  from  conducting 
the  cause  in  his  own  courts  and  acting  on  the  sentence  of  his  own 
judges  ;  who  had  counselled  him  to  seek  a  divorce  from  Rome  and 
promised  him  success  in  his  suit.  From  the  close  of  the  T.egatine 
court  he  would  see  him  no  more.  If  Wolsey  still  remained  minister 
for  a  while,  it  was  because  the  thread  of  the  Complex  foreign  negotia- 
tions could  not  be  roughly  broken.  Here  too,  however,  failure  awaited 
him  as  he  saw  himself  deceived  and  outwitted  by  the  conclusion  of 
peace  between  France  and  the  Emperor  in  a  new  treaty  at  Cambray. 
Not  only  was  his  French  policy  no  longer  possible,  but  a  reconciliation 
with  Charles  was  absolutely  needful,  and  such  a  reconciliation  could 
only  be  brought  about  by  Wolsey's  fall.  'He  was  at  once  prosecuted 
for  receiving  bulls  from  Rome  in  violation  of  the  Statute  of  Praemunire. 
A  few  days  later  he  was  deprived  of  the  seals.  Wolsey  was  prostrated 
by  the  blow.  He  offered  to  give  up  everything  that  he  possessed  if 
the  King  would  but  cease  from  his  displeasure.  "  His  face,"  wrote  the 
French  ambassador  "  is  dwindled  to  half  its  natural  size.  In  tnith  his 
misery  is  such  that  his  enemies.  Englishmen  as  they  are,  cannot  help 
pitying  him."  Office  and  wealth  were  flung  desperately  at  the  King's 
feet,  and  for  the  moment  Henry  seemed  contented  with  his  disgrace. 
A  thousand  boats  full  of  Londoners  covered  the  Thames  to  see  the 
Cardinal's  barge  pass  to  the  Tower,  but  he  was  permitted  to  retire  to^ 
Esher.  Pardon  was  granted  him  on  surrender  of  his  vast  possessions 
to  the  Crown,  and  he  was  permitted  to  withdraw  to  his  diocese  of 
York,  the  one  dignity  he  had  been  suffered  to  retain.  But  hardly  a 
year  had  passed  before  the  jealousy  of  his  political  rivals  was  roused 
by  the  King's  regrets,  and  on  the  eve  of  his  installation  feast  he  was 
arrested  on  a  charge  of  high  treason,  and  conducted  by  the  Lieutenant 
of  the  Tower  towards  London.  Already  broken  by  his  enormous 
labours,  by  internal  disease,  and  the  sense  of  his  fall.  Wolsey  accepted 
the  arrest  as  a  sentence  of  death.  An  attack  of  dysentery  forced  him 
to  rest  at  the  abbey  of  Leicester,  and  as  he  reached  the  :;ate  he  said 
feebly  to  the  brethren  who  met  him,  "  I  am  come  to  lay  my  bones 
among  you."  On  his  deathbed  his  thoughts  still  clung  to  the  prince 
whom  he  had  served.     "  He  is  a  prince,"  said  the  dying  man  to  the 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


S3i 


Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  "  of  a  most  royal  courage:  sooner  than  miss 
any  part  of  his  will  he  will  endanger  one  half  of  his  kingdom  :  and  I 
do  assure  you  I  have  often  kneeled  before  him,  sometimes  for  three- 
hours  together,  to  persuade  him  from  his  appetite,  and  could  not 
prevail.  And,  Master  Knyghton,  had  I  but  served  God  as  diligently 
as  I  have  served  the  king,  He  would  not  have  given  me  over  in  my 
grey  hairs.  But  this  is  my  due  reward  for  my  pains  and  study,  not 
regarding  my  service  to  God,  but  only  my  duty  to  my  prince."  No 
words  could  paint  with  so  terrible  a  truthfulness  the  spirit  of  the  new 
despotism  which  Wolsey  had  done  more  than  any  of  those  who  went 
before  him  to  build  up.  All  sense  of  loyalty  to  England,  to  its  freedom, 
to  its  institutions,  had  utterly  passed  away.  The  one  duty  which  the 
statesman  owned  was  a  duty  to  his  "  prince,"  a  prince  whose  personal 
will  and  appetite  was  overriding  the  highest  interests  of  the  State, 
trampling  under  foot  the  wisest  counsels,  and  crushing  with  the  blind 
ingratitude  of  Fate  the  servants  who  opposed  him.  But  even  Wolsey, 
while  he  recoiled- from  the  monstrous  form  which  had  revealed  itself, 
could  hardly  have  dreamed  of  the  work  of  destruction  which  the  royal 
courage,  and  yet  more  royal  appetite,  of  his  master  was  to  accomplish 
in  the  years  to  come. 

Section  VI.— Tliomas  Cromwell.    1530— 154-0. 

[Authorities. — Cromwell's  early  life  as  told  by  Foxe  is  a  mass  of  fable  ; 
what  we  really  know  of  it  may  be  seen  conveniently  put  together  in  Dean 
Hook's  "Life  of  Archbishop  Cranmer."  For  his  ministry,  the  only  real 
authorities  are  the  State  Papers  for  this  period,  which  are  now  being  calendared 
for  the  Master  of  the  Rolls.  For  Sir  Thomas  More,  we  have  a  touchin;^ 
life  by  his  son-in-law,  Roper.  The  more  important  documents  for  the 
religious  history  of  the  time  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Pocock's  new  edition  of 
Burnet's  "  History  of  the  Reformation"  ;  those  relating  to  the  dissolution  of 
the  Monasteries,  in  the  collection  of  letters  on  that  subject  published  by  the 
Camden  Society,  and  in  the  **  Origmal  Letters  "  of  Sir  Henry  Ellis.  A  mass  of 
matrrial  of  very  various  value  has  been  accumulated  by  Strype  in  his  collections, 
which  I  egin  at  this  time.  Mr.  Froude's  narrative  (*'  History  of  England," 
vols.  i.  ii.  iii.),  though  of  great  literary  merit,  is  disfigured  by  a  love  of  paradox, 
by  hero-worship,  and  by  a  reckless  defence  of  tyranny  and  crime.  It  possesses, 
during  this  period,  little  or  no  historical  value.  1 

The  ten  years  which  follow  the  fall  of  Wolsey  are  among  the  most 
momentous  in  our  history.  The  New  Monarchy  at  last  realized  its 
power,  and  the  work  for  which  Wolsey  had  paved  the  way  was  carried 
out  with  a  terrible  thoroughness.  The  one  great  institution  which  could 
still  offer  resistance  to  the  royal  will  was  struck  down.  The  Church 
became  a  mere  instrument  of  the  central  despotism.  The  people 
learned  their  helplessness  in  rebellions  easily  suppressed  and  avenged 
with  ruthless  severity.  A  reign  of  terror,  organized  with  consummate 
and  merciless  skill,  held  England  panic-stricken  at  Henry's  feet.     The 


332 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI 

Thomas 
Cromwell 

1530 

TO 

154.0 


Thomas 
Croxaivell 


noblest  heads  rolled  on  the  block.  Virtue  and  learning  could  not  save 
Thomas  More  :  royal  descent  could  not  save  Lady  Salisbury.  The 
putting  away  of  one  queen,  the  execution  of  another,  taught  England 
that  nothing  was  too  high  for  Henry's  " courage"  or  too  sacred  for  his 
"  appetite."  Parliament  assembled  only  to  sanction  acts  of  unscru- 
pulous tyranny,  or  to  build  up  by  its  own  statutes  the  great  fabric  of 
absolute  rule.  All  the  constitutional  safeguards  of  English  freedom 
were  swept  away.  Arbitrary  taxation,  arbitrary  legislation,  arbitrary 
imprisonment  were  powers  claimed  without  dispute  and  unsparingly 
exercized  by  the  Crown. 

The  history  of  this  great  revolution,  for  it  is  nothing  less,  is  the  history 
of  a  single  man.  1  n  the  whole  line  of  English  statesmen  there  is  no  one 
of  whom  we  would  willingly  know  so  much,  no  one  of  whom  we  really 
know  so  little,  as  Thomas  Cromwell.  When  he  meets  us  in  Henry's 
service  he  had  already  passed  middle  life  ;  and  during  his  earlier  years  it 
is  hardly  possible  to  do  more  than  disentangle  a  few  fragmentary  facts 
from  the  mass  of  fable  which  gathered  round  them.  His  youth  was  one 
of  roving  adventure.  Whether  he  was  the  son  of  a  poor  blacksmith  at 
Putney  or  no,  he  could  hardly  have  been  more  than  a  boy  when  he  was 
engaged  in  the  service  of  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset.  He  must  still 
have  been  young  when  he  took  part  as  a  common  soldier  in  the  wars 
of  Italy,  a  "  ruffian,"  as  he  owned  afterwards  to  Cranmer,  in  the  most 
unscrupulous  school  the  world  contained.  But  it  was  a  school  in  which 
he  learned  lessons  even  more  dangerous  than  those  of  the  camp.  He 
not  only  mastered  the  Italian  language  but  drank  in  the  manners  and 
tone  of  the  Italy  around  him,  the  Italy  of  the  Borgias  and  the  Medici. 
It  was  with  Italian  versatility  that  he  turned  from  the  camp  to  the 
counting-house  ;  he  was  certainly  engaged  as  a  commercial  agent  to 
one  of  the  Venetian  merchants  ;  tradition  finds  him  as  a  clerk  at 
Antwerp  ;  and  in  15 12  history  at  last  encounters  him  as  a  thriving  wool 
merchant  at  Middleburg  in  Zealand.  Returning  to  England,  Cromwell 
continued  to  amass  wealth  by  adding  the  trade  of  scrivener,  something 
between  that  of  a  banker  and  attorney,  to  his  other  occupations,  as  well 
as  by  advancing  money  to  the  poorer  nobles ;  and  on  the  outbreak  of 
the  second  war  with  France  we  find  him  a  busy  and  influential  member 
of  the  Commons  in  Parliament.  Five  years  later  the  aim  of  his  ambi- 
tion was  declared  by  his  entrance  into  Wolsey's  service.  The  Cardin  il 
needed  a  man  of  business  for  the  suppression  of  some  smaller  monas- 
teries which  he  had  undertaken,  and  for  the  transfer  of  their  revenues 
to  his  foundations  at  Oxford  and  Ipswich.  The  task  was  an  unpopular 
one,  and  it  was  carried  out  with  a  rough  indifference  to  the  feelings  it 
aroused  which  involved  Cromwell  in  the  hate  which  was  gathering 
round  his  master.  But  his  wonderful  self  reliance  and  sense  of  power 
only  broke  upon  the  world  at  Wolsey's  fall.  Of  the  hundreds  of 
dependents  v/ho  waited  on  the  Cardinal's  nod,  Cromwell  was  the  only 


VI.  J 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


333 


one  who  clung  to  him  faithfully  at  the  last.  In  the  lonely  hours  of  his 
disgrace  at  Esher  Wolsey  "  made  his  moan  unto  Master  Cromwell,  who 
comforted  him  the  best  he  could,  and  desired  my  lord  to  give  him  leave 
to  go  to  London,  where  he  would  make  or  mar,  which  was  always  his 
common  saying."  He  shewed  his  consummate  craft  in  a  scheme  by 
which  Wolsey  was  persuaded  to  buy  off  the  hostility  of  the  courtiers 
by  confirming  the  grants  which  had  been  made  to  them  from  his 
revenues,  while  Cromwell  acquired  importance  as  go-between  in 
these  transactions.  It  was  by  Cromwell's.efforts  in  Parliament  that  a 
bill  disqualifying  Wolsey  from  all  after  employment  was  defeated, 
and  it  was  by  him  that  the  negotiations  were  conducted  which 
permitted  the  fallen  minister  to  retire  to  York.  A  general  esteem 
seems  to  have  rewarded  this  rare  instance  of  fidelity  to  a  ruined 
patron.  "  For  his  honest  behaviour  in  his  master's  cause  he  was 
esteemed  the  most  faithfullest  servant,  and  was  of  all  men  greatly 
commended."  But  Henry's  protection  rested  on  other  grounds.  The 
ride  to  London  had  ended  in  a  private  interview  with  the  King,  in 
which  Cromwell  boldly  advised  him  to  cut  the  knot  of  the  divorce  by 
the  simple  exercise  of  his  own  supremacy.  The  advice  struck  the  key- 
note of  the  later  policy  by  which  the  daring  counseller  was  to  change 
the  whole  face  of  Church  and  State  ;  but  Henry  still  clung  to  the  hopes 
held  out  by  his  new  ministers,  and  shrank  perhaps  as  yet  from  the  bare 
absolutism  to  which  Cromwell  called  him.  The  advice  at  any  rate  was 
concealed,  and  though  high  in  the  King's  favour,  his  new  servant 
waited  patiently  the  progress  of  events. 

P'or  success  in  procuring  the  divorce,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who 
had  come  to  the  front  on  Wolsey's  fall,  relied  not  only  on  the 
alliance  and  aid  of  the  Emperor,  but  on  the  support  which  the  project 
was  expected  to  receive  from  Parliament.  The  reassembling  of  the  two 
Houses  marked  the  close  of  the  system  of  Wolsey.  Instead  of  looking 
on  Parhament  as  a  danger  the  monarchy  now  felt  itself  strong  enough 
to  use  it  as  a  tool  ;  and  Henry  justly  counted  on  warm  support  in  his 
strife  with  Rome.  Not  less  significant  was  the  attitude  of  the  men  of 
the  New  Learning.  To  them,  as  to  his  mere  political  adversaries,  the 
Cardinal's  fall  opened  a  prospect  of  better  things.  The  dream  of  More 
in  accepting  the  office  of  Chancellor,  if  we  may  judge  it  from  the  acts 
of  his  brief  ministry,  seems  to  have  been  that  of  carrying  out  the 
religious  reformation  which  had  been  dem  mded  by  Colet  and  Erasmus, 
while  checking  the  spirit  of  revolt  against*  the  unity  of  the  Church.  His 
severities  against  the  Protestants,  exaggerated  as  they  have  been  by 
polemic  rancour,  remain  the  one  stain  on  a  memory  that  knows  no 
other.  But  it  was  only  by  a  rigid  severance  of  the  cause  of  reform 
from  what  seemed  to  him  the  cause  of  revolution  that  More  could  hope 
for  a  successful  issue  to  the  projects  which  the  Council  laid  before  Par- 
liament.   The  Petition  of  the  Commons  sounded  hke  an  echo  of  Colet's 


334 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


famous  address  to  the  Convocation.  It  attributed  the  growth  of  heresy 
not  more  to  "frantic  and  seditious  books  published  in  the  Enghsh 
tongue  contrary  to  the  very  true  Catholic  and  Christian  faith"  than  to 
"  the  extreme  and  uncharitable  behaviour  of  divers  ordinaries."  It  re- 
monstrated against  the  legislation  of  the  clergy  in  Convocation  without 
the  King's  assent  or  that  of  his  subjects,  the  oppressive  procedure  of 
the  Church  Courts,  the  abuses  of  ecclesiastical  patronage,  and  the  ex- 
cessive number  of  holydays.  Henry  referred  the  Petition  to  the 
bishops,  but  they  could  devise  no  means  of  redress,  and  the  ministry 
persisted  in  pushing  through  the  Houses  their  bills  for  ecclesiastical 
reform.  The  questions  of  Convocation  and  the  bishops'  courts 
were  adjourned  for  further  consideration,  but  the  fees  of  the  courts 
were  curtailed,  the  clergy  restricted  from  lav  employments,  pluralities 
restrained,  and  residence  enforced.  In  spite  of  a  dogged  opposition 
from  the  bishops  the  bills  received  the  assent  of  the  House  of 
Loids, ''to  the  great  rejoicing  of  lay  people,  and  the  great  displea- 
sure of  spiritual  persons."  The  importance  of  the  new  measures  lay 
really  in  the  action  of  Parliament.  They  were  an  explicit  announcement 
that  church-reform  was  now  to  be  undertaken,  not  by  the  clergy,  but  by 
the  people  at  large.  On  the  other  hand  it  was  clear  that  it  would  be 
carried  out,  not  in  a  spirit  of  hostility,  but  of  loyalty  to  the  church. 
The  Commons  forced  from  Bishop  Fisher  an  apology  for  words  which 
were  taken  as  a  doubt  thrown  on  their  orthodoxy.  Henry  forbade  the 
circulation  of  Tyndale's  translation  of  t'^e  Bible  as  executed  in  a  Pro- 
testant spirit,  while  he  promised  a  more  correct  version.  But  the 
domestic  aims  of  the  New  Learning  were  foiled  by  the  failure  of  the 
ministry  in  its  negotiations  for  the  divorce.  The  severance  of  the 
French  alliance,  and  the  accession  of  the  party  to  power  which  clung 
to  alliance  with  the  Emperor,  failed  to  detach  Charles  from  his  aunt's 
cause.  The  ministers  accepted  the  suggestion  of  a  Cambridge  scholar, 
Thomas  Cranmer,  that  the  universities  of  Europe  should  be  called  on 
for  their  judgement  ;  but  the  appeal  to  the  learned  opinion  of 
Christendom  ended  in  utter  defeat.  In  France  the  profuse  bribery 
of  the  English  agents  would  have  failed  with  the  university  of  Paris 
but  for  the  interference  of  Francis  himself.  As  shameless  an  exercize 
of  Henry's  own  authority  was  required  to  wring  an  approval  of  his  cause 
from  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  In  Germany  the  very  Protestants,  in  the 
fervour  of  their  moral  revival,  were  dead  ag.iinst  the  King.  So  far  as 
could  be  seen  from  Cranmer's  test  every  learned  man  in  Christendom 
but  for  bribery  and  threats  would  have  condemned  Henry's  cause. 

It  was  at  the  moment  when  every  expedient  had  been  exhausted  by 
Norfolk  and  his  fellow  ministers  that  Cromwell  came  again  to  the 
front.  Despair  of  other  means  drove  Henry  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
bold  plan  from  which  he  had  shrunk  at  Wolsey's  fall.  Cromwell  was 
again  ready  with  his  suggestion  that  the  King  should  disavow  the 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


335 


Papal  jurisdiction,  declare  himself  Head  of  the  Church  within  his 
realm,  and  obtain  a  divorce  from  his  own  Ecclesiastical  Courts.  But 
with  Cromwell  the  divorce  was  but  the  prelude  to  a  series  of  changes 
he  was  bent  upon  accomplishing.  In  all  the  chequered  life  of  the  ne>v 
minister  what  had  left  its  deepest  stamp  on  him  was  Italy.  Not  only 
in  the  rapidity  and  ruthlessness  of  his  designs,  but  in  their  larger  scope, 
their  clearer  purpose,  and  their  admirable  combination,  the  Italian 
state-craft  entered  with  Cromwell  into  English  politics.  He  is  in  fact 
the  first  English  minister  in  whom  we  can  trace  through  the  whole 
period  of  his  rule  the  steady  working  out  of  a  great  and  definite  aim. 
His  purpose  was  to  raise  the  King  to  absolj^te^authority  on  the  ruins  of 
every  rival  power  within  the  realin.  It  was  noTTEat  CromweTl  was  n 
mere  sliivfi  ol  (.yrdmiy.  Whetlrei"  we  may  trust  the  tale  that  carries  him 
in  his  youth  to  Florence  or  no,  his  statesmanship  was  closely  modelled 
on  the  ideal  of  the  Florentine  thinker  whose  book  was  constantly  in  his 
hand.  Even  as  a  servant  of  Wolsey  he  startled  the  future  Cardinal, 
Reginald  Pole,  by  bidding  him  take  for  his  manual  in  politics  the 
"  Prince  "  of  Machiavelli.  Machiavelli  hoped  to  find  in  Caesar  Borgia 
or  in  the  later  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  a  tyrant  who  after  crushing  all  rival 
tyrannies  might  unite  and  regenerate  Italy  ;  and  it  is  possible  to  see  in 
the  policy  of  Cromwell  the  aim  of  securing  enlightenment  and  order  for 
England  by  the  concentration  of  all  authority  in  the  Crown.  The  last 
check  on  royal  absolutism  which  had  survived  the  Wars  of  the  Roses 
lay  in  the  wealth,  the  independent  synods  and  jurisdiction,  and  the 
religious  claims  of  the  Church.  To  reduce  the  great  ecclesiastical  body 
to  a  mere  department  of  the  State  in  which  all  authority  should  flow 
from  the  sovereign  alone,  and  in  which  his  will  should  be  the  only  law, 
his  decision  the  only  test  of  truth,  was  a  change  hardly  to  be  wrought] 
without  a  struggle  ;  and  it  was  the  opportunity  for  such  a  struggle  that 
Cromwell  saw  in  the  divorce.  His  first  blow  showed  how  unscru- 
pulously the  struggle  was  to  be  waged.  A  year  had  passed  since 
Wolsey  had  been  convicted  of  a  breach  of  the  Statute  of  Praemunire.' 
The  pedantry  of  the  judges  declared  the  whole  nation  to  have  been 
formally  involved  in  the  same  charge  by  its  acceptance  of  his  authority. 
The  legal  absurdity  was  now  redressed  by  a  general  pardon,  but  from 
this  pardon  the  clergy  foand  themselves  omitted.  They  were  told  that 
forgiveness  could  be  bought  at  no  less  a  price  than  the  payment  of  a 
fine  amounting  to  a  million  of  our  present  money,  and  the  acknow- 
ledgement of  the  King  as  "  the  chief  protector,  the  only  and  supreme 
lord,  the  Head  of  the  Church  and  Clergy  of  England."  To  the  first 
demand  they  at  once  submitted  ;  against  the  second  they  struggled 
hard,  but  their  appeals  to  Henry  and  to  Cromwell  met  only  with 
demands  for  instant  obedience.  A  compromise  was  at  last  arrived  at 
by  the  insertion  of  a  qualifying  phrase  "  So  far  as  the  law  of  Christ  will 
allow  ; "  and  with  this  addition  the  words  were  again  submitted  by 


336 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Warham  to  the  Convocation.  There  was  a  general  silence.  "  Who- 
ever is  silent  seems  to  consent,"  said  the  Archbishop.  "  Then  are  we 
all  silent,"  replied  a  voice  from  among  the  crowd. 

There  is  no  ground  for  thinking  that  the  "Headship  of  the  Church** 
which  Henry  claimed  in  this  submission  was  more  than  a  warning 
addressed  to  the  independent  spirit  of  the  clergy,  or  that  it  bore  as 
yet  the  meaning  which  was  afterwards  attached  to  it.  It  certainly 
implied  no  independence  of  Rome  ;  but  it  told  the  Pope  plainly 
that  in  any  strife  that  might  come  _the  clergy  were  in  the  King's 
hand.  The  warning  was  backed  by  the  demand  for  the  settle- 
ment  of  the  question  addressed  to  Clement  on  the  part  of  the  Lords 
and  some  of  the  Commons.  "  The  cause  of  his  Majesty,"  the 
Peers  were  made  to  say,  "is  the  cause  of  each  of  ourselves."  If 
Clement  would  not  confirm  what  was  described  as  the  judgement 
of  the  Universities  in  favour  of  the  divorce  "  our  condition  will 
not  be  wholly  irremediable.  Extreme  remedies  are  ever  harsh  of 
application  ;  but  he  that  is  sick  will  by  all  means  be  rid  of  his  dis- 
temper." The  banishment  of  Catharine  from  the  King's  palace  gave 
emphasis  to  the  demand.  The  failure  of  a  second  embassy  to  the  Pope 
left  Cromwell  free  to  take  more  decisive  steps  in  the  course  on  which 
he  had  entered.  As  his  policy  developed  itself  More  withdrew  from 
the  post  of  Chancellor  ;  but  the  revolution  from  which  he  shrr.nk  was 
an  inevitable  one.  From  the  reign  of  the  Edwards  men  had  been 
occupied  with  the  problem  of  reconciling  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
relations  of  the  realm.  Parliament  from  the  first  became  the  orgai» 
of  the  national  jealousy  'whether  of  Papal  jurisdiction  without  the 
kingdom  or  of  the  separate  jurisdiction  of  the  clergy  within  it.  The 
movement,  long  arrested  by  religious  reaction  and  civil  war,  was 
reviving  under  the  new  sense  of  national  greatness  and  national 
unity,  when  it  was  suddenly  stimulated  by  the  question  of  the 
divorce,  and  by  the  submission  of  English  interests  to  a  foreign 
•  Court.  With  such  a  spur  it  moved  forward  quickly.  The  time  h^d 
come  when  England  was  to  claim  for  herself  the  fulness  of  power, 
ecclesiastical  as  well  as  temporal,  withm  her  bounds  ;  and,  in  the 
concentration  of  all  authority  within  the  hands  of  the  sovereign 
which  was  the  political  characteristic  of  the  time,  to  claim  this 
power  for  the  nation  was  to  claim  it  for  the  king.  The  import 
of  the  headship  of  the  Church  was  brought  fully  out  in  one  of  th« 
propositions  laid  before  the  Convocation  of  1532.  "The  King^ 
Majesty,"  runs  this  memorable  clause,  "  hath  as  well  the  care  of  the 
souls  of  his  subjects  as  their  bodies ;  and  may  by  the  law  of  Go<* 
by  his  Parliament  make  laws  touching  and  concerning  as  well  the 
one  as  the  other."  Under  strong  pressure  Convocation  was  brought  to 
pray  that  the  power  of  independent  legislation  till  now  exercized  by 
the  Church  should  come  to  an  end.     Rome  was  dealt  with  in  the  same 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


337 


unsparing  fashion.  The  Parliament  forbade  by  statute  any  further 
appeals  to  the  Papal  Court ;  and  on  a  petition  from  the  clergy  in  Con- 
vocation the  Houses  granted  power  to  the  King  to  suspend  the  pay- 
ments of  first-fruits,  or  the  year's  revenue  which  each  bishop  paid  to 
Rome  on  his  election  to  a  see.  All  judicial,  all  financial  connexion 
with  the  Papacy  was  broken  by  these  two  measures.l  Cromwell  fell 
back  on  V/olscy's  policy.  The  hope  of  aid  from  CHarles  was  aban- 
doned, and  by  a  new  league  with  France  he  sought  to  bring  pressure 
on  the  Papal  court.  But  the  pressure  was  as  unsuccessful  as  before. 
jClement  threatened  the  King  with  excommunication  if  he  did  not 
restore  Catharine  to  her  place  as  Queen  and  abstain  from  all  inter- 
course with  Anne  Boleyn  till  the  case  was  tried.  Henry  still  refused 
.to  submit  to  the  judgement  of  any  court  outside  his  realm  ;  and  the 
•Pope  dared  not  consent  to  a  trial  within  it.  Henry  at  last  closed  the 
long  debate  by  a  secret  union  with  Anne  Boleyn.  Warham  was  dead, 
and  Crnnmer,  an  active  partizan  of  the  divorce,  was  named  to  the  see 
pf  Canterbury  ;  proceedings  were  at  once  commenced  in  his  court ;  and 
the  marriage  of  Catharine  was  formally  declared  invalid  by  the  new 
primate  at  Dunstable.  A  week  later  Cranmer  set  on  the  brow  of  Anne 
Boleyn  the  crown  which  she  had  so  long  coveted. 

As  yet  the  real  character  of  Cromwell's  ecclesiastical  policy  had  been 
disguised  by  its  connexion  with  the  divorce.  But  though  formal 
negotiations  continued  between  England  and  Rome,  until  Clement's 
final  decision  in  Catharine's  favour,  they  had  no  longer  any  influence 
on  the  series  of  measures  which  in  t'leir  rapid  succession  changed  the 
whole  character  of  the  English  Church.  The  acknowledgement  of 
Henry's  title  as  its  Protector  and  Head  was  soon  found  by  the  clergy 
to  have  been  more  than  a  form  of  words.  It  was  the  first  step  in  a 
policy  by  which  the  Church  was  to  be  laid  prostrate  at  the  foot  ftf 
the  throne.  Parliament  had  shown  its  accordance  witlTlthe  royal  will 
in  the  strife  with  Rome.  Step  by  step  the  ground  had  been  cleai^d 
for  the  great  Statute  by  which  the  new  character  of  the  Church  was 
defined.  The  Act  of  Supremacy  ordered  that  the  King  "  shall  bef 
taken,  accepted,  and  reputed  the  only  supreme  head  on  earth  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  shall  have  and  enjoy  annexed  and  united  to  the 
Imperial  Crown  of  this  realm  as  well  the  title  and  state  thereof  as  all  the 
honours,  jurisdictions,  authorities,  immunities,  profits  and  commodities 
to  the  said  dignity  belonging,  with  full  power  to  visit,  repress,  redress, 
reform,  and  amend  all  such  errors,  heresies,  abuses,  contempts,  and 
enormities,  which  by  any  manner  of  ^spiritual  authority  or  jurisdiction 
might  or  may  lawfully  be  reformed."  Authority  in  all  matters  ecclesi- 
astical, as  well  as  civil,  was  vested  solely  in  the  Crown.  The  "  courts 
spiritual"  became  as  thoroughly  the  King's  courts  as  the  temporal 
courts  at  Westminster.  But  the  full  import  of  the  Act  of  Supremacy 
was  only  seen  in  the  following  year,  when  Henry  formally  took  the 


338 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

Thomas 
Cromwell 

1530 

TO 

1540 


Subjection  of 
the  Bishops 


'536 


The  Dis- 
solution 
of  the 
Monas- 
teries 


title  of  "  on  earth  Supreme  Head  of  the  Church  of  England,"  and  some 
months  later  Cromwell  was  raised  to  the  post  of  Vicar-General  or 
Vicegerent  of  the  King  in  all  matters  ecclesiastical.  His  title,  like  ' 
his  office,  recalled  the  system  of  Wolsey  ;  but  the  fact  that  these 
powers  were  now  united  in  the  hands  not  of  a  priest  but  of  a  layman,J 
showed  the  new  drift  of  the  royal  policy.  And  this  policy  Cromwell's 
position  enabled  him  to  carry  out  with  a  terrible  thoroughness.  One 
great  step  towards  its  realization  had  already  been  taken  in  the  statute 
which  annihilated  the  free  legislative  powers  of  the  convocations  of  th% 
clergy.  Another  followed  in  an  Act  which  under  the  pretext  of  restoring^ 
the  free  election  of  bishops  turned  every  prelate  into  a  nominee  of  the 
King.  Their  election  by  the  chapters  of  their  cathedral  churches  hac^* 
long  become  formal,  and  their  appointment  had  since  the  time  of  the* 
Edwards  been  practically  made  by  the  Papacy  on  the  nomination  06 
the  Crown.  The  privilege  of  free  election  was  now  with  bitter  irony 
restored  to  the  chapters,  but  they  were  compelled  on  pain  of  praemuntre 
to  choose  the  candidate  recommended  by  the  King.  This  strange  ex- 
pedient has  lasted  till  the  present  time  ;  but  its  character  has  wholly 
changed  with  the  developement  of  constitutional  rule.  The  nomination 
of  bishops  has  ever  since  the  accession  of  the  Georges  passed  from  the 
King  in  person  to  the  Minister  who  represents  the  will  of  the  people. 
Practically  therefore  an  English  prelate,  alone  among  all  the  prelates 
of  the  world,  is  now  raised  to  his  episcopal  throne  by  the  same  popular 
election  which  raised  Ambrose  to  his  episcopal  chair  at  Milan.  But  at 
the  moment  Cromwell's  measure  reduced  the  English  bishops  to 
absolute  dependence  on  the  Crown.  Their  dependence  woulcj  have 
been  complete  had  his  policy  been  thoroughly  carried  out  and  the 
royal  power  of  deposition  put  in  force  as  well  as  thart>f«^pointment. 
As  it  was  Henry  could  warn  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin  that  if  he 
persevered  in  his  "  proud  folly,  we  be  able  to  remove  yeu  again  and  to 
put  another  man  of  more  virtue  and  honesty  in  your  place."  Even 
Elizabeth  in  a  burst  of  ill-humour  tRreatened  to  "  unfrock  "  the  Bishop 
of  Ely.  By  the  more  ardent  partizans  of  the  Reformation  this  depen- 
dence of  the  bishops  on  the  Crown  was  fully  recognized.  On  the  death 
of  Henry  the  Eighth  Cranmer  took  out  a  new  commission  from  Edwafd 
for  the  exercise  of  his  office.  Latimer,  when  the  royal  policy  clashed 
with  his  belief,  felt  bound  to  resign  the  See  of  Worcester.  That  tl^e 
power  of  deposition  was  at  a  later  time  quietly  abandoned  was  due  not 
so  much  to  any  deference  for  the  religious  instincts  of  the  nation  as  to 
the  fact  that  the  steady  servility  of  the  bishops  rendered  its  exercise 
unnecessary.  "  v 

Master  of  Convocation,  absolute  master  of  the.  bishops,  Henry  had 
become  master  of  the  monastic  orders  through  the  right  of  visitation 
over  them  which  had  been  transferred  by  the  Act  of  Supremacy  from 
the  Papacy  to  the  Crown.     The  religious  houses  had  drawn  on  them- 


vr.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


339 


selves  at  once  the  hatred  of  the  New  Learning  and  of  the  Monarchy. 
In  the  early  days  of  the  revival  of  letters  Popes  and  bishops  had  joined 
with  princes  and  scholars  in  welcoming  the  diffusion  of  culture  and  the 
hopes  of  religious  reform.  But  though  an  abbot  or  a  prior  here  or 
there  might  be  found  among  the  supporters  of  the  movement,  the 
monastic  orders  as  a  whole  repelled  it  with  unswerving  obstinacy. 
The  quarrel  only  became  more  bitter  as  years  went  on.  The  keen 
sarcasms  of  Erasmus,  the  insolent  buffoonery  of  Hutten,  were  lavished 
on  the  "lovers  of  darkness"  and  of  the  cloister.  In  England  Colet 
and  More  echoed  with  greater  reserve  the  scorn  and  invective  of  theiV 
friends.  As  an  outlet  for  religious  enthusiasm,  indeed,  monasticism 
was  practically  dead.  The  friar,  now  that  his  fervour  of  devotion  and 
his  intellectual  energy  had  passed  away,  had  sunk  into  a  mere  beggar. 
The  monks  had  become  mere  landowners.  Most  of  their  houses  were 
anxious  only  to  enlarge  their  revenues  and  to  diminish  the  number  of 
those  who  shared  them.  In  the  general  carelessness  which  prevailed 
as  to  the  spiritual  objects  of  their  trust,  in  the  wasteful  management  of 
their  estates,  in  the  indolence  and  self-indulgence  which  for  the  most 
part  characterized  them,  the  monastic  houses  simply  exhibiti5d*the 
faults  of  all  corporate  bodies  which  have  outlived  the  work  which  they 
were  created  to  perform.  But  they  were  no  more  unpopular  than  such 
corporate  bodies  generally  are.  The  Lollard  cry  for  their  suppression 
had  died  away.  In  the  north,  where  some  of  the  greatest  abbeys 
were  situated,  the  monks  were  on  good  terms  with  the  country  gentry, 
and  their  houses  served  as  schools  for  their  children  ;  nor  is  there  any 
sign  of  a  different  feeling  elsewhere.  But  in  Cromwell's  system  theflre 
was  no  room  for  either  the  virtues  or  the  vices  of  monasticism,  for 
its  indolence  and  superstition,  or  for  its  independence  of  the  throne.* 
Two  royal  commissioners  therefore  were  despatched  on  a  general 
visitation  of  the  religious  houses,  and  their  reports  formed  a  "  Black' 
Book"  which  was  laid  before  Parliament  on  their  return.  It  was 
acknowledged  that  about  a  third  of  the  religious  houses,  including 
the  bulk  of  the  larger  abbeys,  were  fairly  and  decently  conducted> 
.The  rest  were  charged  with  drunkenness,  with  simony,  and  with  the ' 
foulest  and  most  revolting  crimes.  The  character  of  the  visitors,  the4 
sweeping  nature  of  their  report,  and  the  bng  debate  which  followed  on 
its  reception,  leaves  little  doubt  that  the  charges  were  grossly  exagge- 
rated. But  the  want  of  any  effective  discipline  which  had  resulted  fronl 
their  exemption  from  any  but  Papal  supervision  told  fatally  against 
monastic  morahty  even  in  abbeys  like  St.  Alban's  :  and  the  acknow- 
ledgement of  Warham,  as  well  as  the  partial  measures  of  suppression 
begun  by  Wolsey,  go  far  to  prove  that  in  the  smaller  houses  at  least 
indolence  had  passed  into  crime.  But  in  spite  of  the  cry  of  "  Down 
with  them  "  which  broke  from  the  Commons  as  the  report  was  read, 
the  country  was  still  far  from  desiring  the  utter  downfall   of  the 


340 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


monastic  system.  A  long  and  bitter  debate  was  followed  by  a  com- 
promise which  suppressed  all  houses  whose  incomes  fell  below  ^200 
a  year,  and  granted  their  revenues  to  the  Crown  ;  but  the  great  abbeys 
were  still  preserved  intact. 

The  secular  clergy  alone  remained  ;  and  injunction  after  injunction 
from  the  Vicar-General  taught  rector  and  vicar  that  they  must  learn  to 
regard  themselves  as  mere  mouthpieces  of  the  royal  will.  Witlj  the 
instinct  of  genius  Cromwell  discerned  the  part  which  the  pulpit,  as  the. 
one  means  which  then  existed  of  speaking  to  the  people  at  large,  was 
to  play  in  the  religious  and  political  struggle  that  was  at  hand  ;  and  he 
resolved  to  turn  it  to  the  profit  of  the  Monarchy.  The  restriction  of*' 
the  right  of  preaching  to  priests  who  received  licenses  from  the  Crown 
silenced  every  voice  of  opposition.  Even  to  those  who  received  these 
licenses  theological  controversy  was  forbidden  ;  and  a  high-handed 
process  of  "tuning  the  pulpits"  by  directions  as  to  the  subject  and 
tenor  of  each  special  discourse  made  the  preachers  at  every  crisis 
mere  means  of  diffusing  the  royal  will.  As  a  first  step  in  this  process 
every  bishop,  abbot,  and  parish  priest,  was  required  to  preach  against 
the  usurpation  of  the  Papacy,  and  to  proclaim  tlie  King  as  the  supreme 
Head  of  the  Church  on  earth.  The  very  topics  of  the  sermon  were 
carefully  prescribed  ;  the  bishops  were  held  responsible  for  the  com- 
pliance of  the  clergy  with  these  orders,  and  the  sheriffs  were  held 
responsible  for  the  compliance  of  the  bishops.  It  was  only  when  all 
possibility  of  resistance  was  at  an  end,  when  the  Church  was  gagga] 
and  its  pulpits  turned  into  mere  echoes  of  Henry's  will,  that  Cromwell 
ventured  on  his  la-.t  and  crowning  change,  that  of  claiming  for  the 
Crown  the  right  of  dictating  at  its  pleasure  the  forfta  of  faith  and 
doctrine  to  be  held  and  taught  throughout  the  land.  A  purified 
Catholicism  such  as  Erasmus  and  Co?c??Rtd  dreamed  ©f  was  now  to 
be  the  religion  of  England.  But  the  dream  of  the  New  Learning  waisf 
to  be  wrought  out,  not  by  the  progress  of  education  and  piety,  but  by 
the  brute  force  of  the  Monarchy.  The  Articles  of  Religion,  which 
Convocation  received  and  adopted  without  venturing  on  a  protest, 
-were  drawn  up  by  the  hand  of  Henry  himself.  The  Bible  and  the* 
three  Creeds  were  laid  down  as  the  sole  grounds  of  faith.  The  Sacra*- 
ments  were  reduced  from  seven  to  three,  only  Penance  being  allowed 
to  rank  on  an  equality  with  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper.  The 
doctrines  of  Transubsiantiation  and  Confession  were  maintained,  as 
they  were  also  in  the  Lutheran  Churches.  The  spirit  of  Erasmus  was 
seen  in  the  acknowle  Igement  of  Justification  by  Faith,  a  doctrine  for 
which  the  friends  of  the  .New  Learning,  such  as  Pole  and  Contarini, 
were  struggling  at  Rome  itself,  in  the  condemnation  of  purgatory,  of 
pardons,  and  of  masses  for  the  dead,  in  the  admission  of  prayers  for 
the  dead,  and  in  the  rete  tion  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  Church  without 
material  change.     Enormous  as  was  the  doctrinal  revolution,  not  a 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


341 


murmur  broke  the  assent  of  Convocation,  and  the  Articles  were  sent  by 
the  Vicar-General  into  every  county  to  be  obeyed  at  men's  peril.  The 
policy  of  reform  was  carried  steadily  out  by  a  series  of  royal  injunction* 
which  followed.  Pilgrimages  were  suppressed  ;  the  excessive  number 
of  holy  days  diminished  ;  the  worship  of  images  and  relics  discouraged 
in  words  which  seem  almost  copied  from  the  protest  of  Erasmus.  His* 
burning  appeal  for  a  translation  of  the  Bible  which  weavers  might  repeat* 
at  their  shuttle  and  ploughmen  sing  at  their  plough  received  at  last  a' 
reply.  At  the  outset  of  the  ministry  of  Norfolk  and  More  the  King 
had  promised  an  English  version  of  the  scriptures,  while  prohibiting* 
the  circulation  of  Tyndale's  Lutheran  translation.  The  work  however 
lagged  in  the  hands  of  the  bishops  ;  and  as  a  preliminary  measure  the 
Creed,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Ten  Commandments  were  now 
rendered  into  English,  and  ordered  to  be  taught  by  every  schoolmaster 
and  father  of  a  family  to  his  children  and  pupils.  But  the  bishops' 
version  still  hung  on  hand  ;  till  in  despair  of  its  appearance  a  friend  of 
Archbishop  Cranmer,  Miles  Coverdale,  was  employed  to  correct  and 
revise  the  translation  of  Tyndale  ;  and  the  Bible  which  he  edited  was 
published  in  1 538  under  the  avowed  patronage  of  Henry  himself  The 
story  of  the  royal  supremacy  was  graven  on  its  very  title-page.  The 
new  foundation  of  religious  truth  was  to  be  regarded  throughout 
England  as  a  gift,  not  from  the  Church,  but  from  the  King.  It  is 
Henry  on  his  throne  who  gives  the  sacred  volume  to  Cranmer,  ere 
Cranmer  and  Cromwell  can  distribute  it  to  the  throng  of  priests  and 
laymen  below. 

The  debate  on  the  suppression  of  the  monasteries  was  the  first 
instance  of  opposition  with  which  Cromwell  had  met,  and  for  some 
time  longer  it  was  to  remain  the  only  one.  While  the  great  revolution 
which  struck  down  the  Church  was  in  progress,  England  looked  silently 
on.  In  all  the  earlier  ecclesiastical  changes,  in  the  contest  over  the 
Papal  jurisdiction  and  Papal  exactions,  in  the  reform  of  the  Church 
courts,  even  in  the  curtailment  of  the  legislative  independence  of  the 
clergy,  the  nation  as  a  whole  had  gone  with  the  King.  But  from  the 
enslavement  of  the  clergy,  from  the  gagging  of  the  pulpits,  from  the 
suppression  of  the  monasteries,  the  bulk  of  the  nation  stood  aloof. 
It  is  only  through  the  stray  depositions  of  royal  spies  that  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  wrath  and  hate  which  lay  seething  under  this  silence  of 
a  whole  people.  For  the  silence  was  a  silence  of  terror.  Before  Crom- 
well's rise  and  after  his  fall  from  power  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth 
witnessed  no  more  than  the  common  tyranny  and  bloodshed  of  the  time. 
But  the  years  of  Cromwell's  administration  form  the  one  period  in  our 
history  which  deserves  the  name  which  men  have  given  to  the  rule  of 
Robespierre.  It  was  the  English  Terror.  It  was  by  terror  that  Crom- 
well mastered  the  King.  Cranmer  could  plead  for  him  at  a  later  time 
with  Henry  as  "  one  whose  surety  was  only  by  your  Majesty,  who  loved 


342 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ICIIAP. 


your  Majesty,  as  I  ever  thought,  no  less  than  God."  But  the  attitude 
of  Cromwell  towards  the  King  was  something  more  than  that  of  abso- 
lute dependence  and  unquestioning  devotion.  He  was  "  so  vigilant  to 
preserve  your  Majesty  from  all  treasons,"  adds  the  Primate,  "  that  few 
could  be  so  secretly  conceived  but  he  detected  the  same  from  the 
beginning."  Henry,  like  every  Tudor,  was  fearless  of  open  danger, 
but  tremulously  sensitive  to  the  slightest  breath  of  hidden  disloyalty. 
It  was  on  this  inner  dread  that  Cromwell  based  the  fabric  of  his  power. , 
He  was  hardly  secretary  before  a  host  of  spies  were  scattered  broa(^ 
cast  over  the  land.  Secret  denunciations  poured  into  the  open  ear  of 
the  minister.  The  air  was  thick  with  tales  of  plots  and  conspiracies, 
and  with  the  detection  and  suppression  of  each  Cromwell  tightened  his 
hold  on  the  King.  And  as  it  was  by  terror  that  he  mastered  the  Kin.,% 
so  it  was  by  terror  that  he  mastered  the  people.  Men  felt  in  England, 
to  use  the  figure  by  which  Erasmus  paints  the  time,  "  as  if  a  scorpion 
lay  sleeping  under  every  stone."  The  confessional  had  no  secrets  for 
Cromwell.  Men's  talk  with  their  closest  friends  found  its  way  to  his 
ear.  "  Words  idly  spoken,"  the  murmurs  of  a  petulant  abbot,  the 
ravings  of  a  moon-struck  nun,  were,  as  the  nobles  cried  passionately 
at  his  fall,  "  tortured  into  treason."  The  only  chance  of  safety  lay  in 
silence.  "  Friends  who  used  to  write  and  send  me  presents,"  Erasmus 
tells  us,  "  now  send  neither  letter  nor  gifts,  nor  receive  any  from  any 
one,  and  this  through  fear."  But  even  the  refuge  of  silence  was 
closed  by  a  law  more  infamous  than  any  that  has  ever  blotted  the 
Statute-book  of  England.  Not  only  was  thought  made  treason,  but 
men  were  forced  to  reveal  their  thoughts  on  pain  of  their  very  silence 
being  punished  with  the  penalties  of  treason.  AlJ^trust  in  the  older 
bulwarks  of  liberty  was  destroyed  by  a  policy  as  daring  as  it  was  un- 
scrupulous. The  noblest  institutions  were  degraded  into  instruments 
of  terror.  Though  Wolsey  had  strained  the  law  to  the  utmost  he  had 
made  no  open  attack  on  the  freedom  of  justice.  If  he  had  shrunk 
from  assembling  Parliaments  it  was  from  his  sense  that  they  were  the 
bulwarks  of  liberty.  Under  Cromwell  the  coercion  of  juries  and  the 
management  of  judges  rendered  the  courts  mere  mouth-pieces  of  the 
royal  will :  and  where  even  this  shadow  of  justice  proved  an  obstacle 
to  bloodshed.  Parliament  was  brought  into  play  to  pass  bill  after  bill 
of  attainder.  "  He  shall  be  judged  by  the  bloody  laws  he  has  himself 
made,"  was  the  cry  of  the  Council  at  the  moment  of  his  fall,  and  by  a 
singular  retribution  the  crowning  injustice  which  he  sought  to  intro- 
duce even  into  the  practice  of  attainder,  the  condemnation  of  a  man 
without  hearing  his  defence,  was  only  practised  on  himself.  But  ruth- 
less as  was  the  Terror  of  Cromwell  it  was  of  a  nobler  type  than  the 
Terror  of  France.  He  never  struck  uselessly  or  capriciously,  or  stooped 
to  the  meaner  victims  of  the  guillotine.  His  blows  were  eflfectivc  just 
because  he  chose  his  victims  from  among  the  noblest  and  the  best    If 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


343 


he  struck  at  the  Church,  it  was  through  the  Carthusians,  the  holiest  and 
the  most  renowned  of  EngHsh  churchmen.  If  he  struck  at  the  baronage, 
it  was  through  the  Courtenays  and  the  Poles,  in  whose  veins  flowed  the 
blood  of  kings.  If  he  struck  at  the  New  Learning  it  was  through  the 
murder  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  But  no  personal  vindictiveness  mingled 
with  his  crime.  In  temper,  indeed,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the 
few  stories  which  lingered  among  his  friends,  he  was  a  generous, 
kindly-hearted  man,  with  pleasant  and  winning  manners  which  atoned 
for  a  certain  awkwardness  of  person,  and  with  a  constancy  of  friend- 
ship which  won  him  a  host  of  devoted  adherents.  But  no  touch  either 
of  love  or  hate  swayed  him  from  his  course.  The  student  of  Machia- 
velli  had  not  studied  the  "Prince"  in  vain.  He  had  reduced  bloodshed 
to  a  system.  Fragments  of  his  papers  still  show  us  with  what  a 
business-like  brevity  he  ticked  off  human  lives  among  the  casual 
"remembrances"  of  the  day.  "Item,  the  Abbot  of  Reading  to  be 
sent  down  to  be  tried  and  executed  at  Reading."  "  Item,  to  know  the 
King's  pleasure  touching  Master  More."  "  Item,  when  Master  Fisher 
shall  go  to  his  execution,  and  the  other."  It  is  indeed  this  utter 
absence  of  all  passion,  of  all  personal  feeling,  that  makes  the  figure  of 
Cromwell  the  most  terrible  in  our  history.  He  has  an  absolute  faith 
in  the  end  he  is  pursuing,  and  he  simply  hews  his  way  to  it  as  a 
woodman  hews  his  way  through  the  forest,  axe  in  hand. 

The  choice  of  his  first  victim  showed  the  ruthless  precision  with 
which  Cromwell  was  to  strike.  In  the  general  opinion  of  Europe  the 
foremost  Englishman  of  his  time  was  Sir  Thomas  More.  As  the 
policy  of  the  divorce  ended  in  an  open  rupture  with  Rome  he  had 
withdrawn  silently  from  the  ministry,  but  his  silent  disapproval  was 
more  telling  than  the  opposition  of  obscurer  foes.  To  Cromwell  there 
must  have  been  something  specially  galling  in  More's  attitude  of 
reserve.  The  religious  reforms  of  the  New  Learning  were  being 
rapidly  carried  out,  but  it  was  plain  that  the  man  who  represented 
the  very  life  of  the  New  Learning  believed  that  the  sacrifice  of  liberty 
and  justice  was  too  dear  a  price  to  pay  even  for  religious  reform. 
More  indeed  looked  on  the  divorce  and  re-n^arriage  as  without  reli- 
gious warrant,  though  his  faith  in  the  power  of  Parliament  to  regulate 
the  succession  made  him  regard  the  children  of  Anne  Boleyn  as  the 
legal  heirs  of  the  Crown.  The  Act  of  Succession,  however,  required 
an  o.ith  to  be  taken  by  all  persons,  which  not  only  recognized  the 
succession,  but  contained  an  acknowledgement  that  the  marriage  with 
Catharine  was  against  Scripture  and  invalid  from  the  beginning.  Henry 
had  long  known  More's  belief  on  this  point ;  and  the  summons  to  take 
this  oath  was  simply  a  summons  to  death.  More  was  at  his  hoi^se  at 
Chelsea  when  the  summons  called  him  to  Lambeth,  to  the  house  where 
he  had  bandied  fun  with  Warham  and  Erasmus  or  bent  over  the  easel 
of  Holbein.    For  a  moment  there  may  have  been  some  passing  impulse 


344 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAK 


to  yield  But  it  was  soon  over.  "  I  thank  the  Lord,"  More  said  with 
a  sudden  start  as  the  boat  dropped  silently  down  the  river  from  his 
garden  steps  in  the  early  morning,  "  I  thank  the  Lord  that  the  field  is 
won."  Cranmer  and  his  fellow  commissioners  tendered  to  him  the 
new  oath  of  allegiance  ;  but,  as  they  expected,  it  was  refused.  They 
bade  him  walk  in  the  garden  that  he  might  reconsider  his  reply.  The 
day  was  hot  and  More  seated  himself  in  a  window  from  which 
he  could  look  down  into  the  crowded  court.  Even  in  the  presence 
of  death,  the  quick  sympathy  of  his  nature  could  enjoy  the  humour 
and  life  of  the  throng  below.  "  I  saw,"  he  said  afterwards,  "  Master 
Latimer  very  merry  in  the  court,  for  he  laughed  and  took  one  or 
twain  by  the  neck  so  handsomely  that  if  they  had  been  women 
I  should  have  weened  that  he  waxed  wanton."  The  crowd  below  was 
chiefly  of  priests,  rectors  and  vicars,  pressing  to  take  the  oath  that 
More  found  harder  than  death.  He  bore  them  no  grudge  for  it.  When 
he  heard  the  voice  of  one  who  was  known  to  have  boggled  hard  at 
the  oath  a  little  while  before  calling  loudly  and  ostentatiously  for  drink, 
he  only  noted  him  with  his  peculiar  humour.  "He  drank,"  More 
supposed,  "  either  from  dryness  or  from  gladness,"  or  "  to  show  quod 
ille  notus  erat  Pontifici."  He  was  called  in  again  at  last,  but  only 
repeated  his  refusal.  It  was  in  vain  that  Cranmer  plied  him  with  dis- 
tinctions which  perplexed  even  the  subtle  wit  of  the  ex-chancellor  ;  he 
remained  unshaken  and  passed  to  the  Tower.  He  was  followed  there 
by  Bishop  Fisher  of  Rochester,  charged  with  countenancing  treason  by 
listening  to  the  prophecies  of  a  fanatic  called  the  "  Nun  of  Kent."  For 
the  moment  even  Cromwell  shrank  from  their  blood.  They  remained 
prisoners  while  a  new  and  more  terrible  engine  was  devised  to  crush 
out  the  silent  but  widespread  opposition  to  the  religious  changes.  By 
a  statute  passed  at  the  close  of  1534  a  new  treason  was  created  in  the 
denial  of  the  King's  titles  ;  and  in  the  opening  of  1535  Henry  assumed, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  title  of  "  on  earth  supreme  Head  of  the  Church  of 
England."  I  n  the  general  relaxation  of  the  religious  life  the  charity  and 
devotion  of  the  brethren  of  the  Charter-house  had  won  the  reverence 
even  of  those  who  condemned  monasticism.  After  a  stubborn  resist- 
ance they  had  acknowledj^^ed  the  royal  Supremacy,  and  taken  the  oath 
of  submission  prescribed  by  the  Act.  But  by  an  infamous  construc- 
tion of  the  statute  which  made  the  denial  of  the  Supremacy  treason, 
the  refusal  of  satisfactory  answers  to  official  questions  as  to  a  con- 
scientious belief  in  it  was  held  to  be  equivalent  to  open  denial.  The 
aim  of  the  new  measure  was  well*  known,  and  the  brethren  prepared 
to  die.  In  the  agony  of  waiting  enthusiasm  brought  its  imaginative 
consolations  ;  "  when  the  Host  was  lifted  up  there  came  as  it  were  a 
whisper  of  air  which  breathed  upon  our  faces  as  we  1  nelt ;  and  there 
:anie  a  sweet  soft  sound  of  music."  They  had  not  long  however  tc 
wait,     rneir  refusal  to  answer  was  the  signal  for  their  doom.     Three 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY, 


345 


of  the  brethren  went  to  the  gallows  ;  the  rest  were  flung  into  Newgate, 
chained  to  posts  in  a  noisome  dungeon  where,  "  tied  and  not  able  to 
stir,"  they  were  left  to  perish  of  gaol-fever  and  starvation.  In  a 
fortnight  five  were  dead  and  the  rest  at  the  point  of  death,  "  almost 
despatched,"  Cromwell's  envoy  wrote  to  him,  "  by  the  hand  of  God,  of 
which,  considering  their  behaviour,  I  am  not  sorry."  The  interval  of 
imprisonment  had  failed  to  break  the  resolution  of  More,  and  the  new 
statute  sufficed  to  bring  him  to  the  block.  With  Fisher  he  was  con- 
victed of  denying  the  King's  title  as  only  supreme  head  of  the  Church. 
The  old  Bishop  approached  the  block  with  a  book  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  his  hand.  He  opened  it  at  a  venture  ere  he  knelt,  and  read, 
"  This  is  life  eternal  to  know  Thee,  the  only  true  God."  Fisher's  death 
was  soon  followed  by  that  of  More.  (  n  the  eve  of  the  fatal  blow  he 
moved  his  beard  carefully  from  the  block.  "  Pity  that  should  be  cut," 
he  was  heard  to  mutter  with  a  touch  of  the  old  sad  irony,  "that  has 
never  committed  treason." 

But  it  required,  as  Cromwell  well  knew,  heavier  blows  even  than 
these  to  break  the  stubborn  resistance  of  Englishmen  to  his  projects 
of  change,  and  he  seized  his  opportunity  in  the  revolt  of  the  North. 
In  the  north  the  monks  had  been  popular  ;  and  the  outrages  with 
which  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  was  accompanied  gave  point 
to  the  mutinous  feeling  that  prevailed  through  the  country.  The  nobles 
too  were  writhing  beneath  the  rule  of  one  whom  they  looked  upon  as 
a  low-born  upstart.  "The  world  will  never  mend,"  Lord  Mussey  was 
heard  to  say,  "  till  we  fight  for  it."  Agrarian  discontent  and  the  love 
of  the  old  religion  united  in  a  revolt  which  broke  out  in  Lincolnshire. 
The  rising  was  hardly  suppressed  when  Yorkshire  was  in  arms.  From 
every  parish  the  farmers  m.arched  with  the  parish  priest  at  their  head 
upon  York,  and  the  surrender  of  the  city  determined  the  waverers. 
In  a  few  days  Skipton  Castle,  where  the  Earl  of  Cumberland  held  out 
with  a  handful  of  men,  was  the  only  spot  north  of  the  H umber  which 
remained  true  to  the  King.  Durham  rose  at  the  call  of  Lords  Latimer 
and  Westmoreland.  Though  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  feigned 
sickness,  the  Percies  joined  the  revolt.  Lord  Dacre,  the  chief  of  the 
Yorkshire  nobles,  surrendered  Pomfret,  and  was  at  once  acknowledged 
as  their  chief  by  the  insurgents.  The  whole  nobility  of  the_^orth 
were  now  in  arms,  and  thirty  thousand  "  tall  men  and  well  horseS " 
moved  on  the  Don,  demanding  the  reversal  of  the  royal  policy,  a  re- 
union with  Rome,  the  restoration  of  Catharine's  daughter,  Mary,  to 
her  rights  as  heiress  of  the  Crown,  redress  for  the  wrongs  done  to  the 
Church,  and  above  all  the  driving  away  of  base-born  counsellors,  in 
other  words  the  fall  of  Cromwell.  Though  their  advance  was  checked 
by  negotiation,  the  organization  of  the  revolt  went  steadily  on  t'^.rough- 
out  the  winter,  and  a  Parliament  of  the  North  gathered  at  Pomfret, 
and    formally   adopted   the   demands   of  the    insurgents.      Only  six 


346 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


thousand  men  under  Norfolk  barred  their  way  southward,  and  the 
Midland  counties  were  known  to  be  disaffected.  Cromwell,  however, 
remained  undaunted  by  the  peril.  He  suffered  Norfolk  to  negotiate  ; 
and  allowed  Henry  under  pressure  from  his  Council  to  promise  pardon 
and  a  free  Parliament  at  York,  a  pledge  which  Norfolk  nnd  Dacre 
alike  construed  into  an  acceptance  of  the  demands  made  by  the  in- 
surgents. Their  leaders  at  once  flung  aside  the  badge  of  the  Five 
Wounds  which  they  had  worn,  with  a  cry  "  We  will  wear  no  badge  but 
that  of  our  Lord  the  King,"  and  nobles  and  farmers  dispersed  to  their 
homes  in  triumph.  But  the  towns  of  the  North  were  no  sooner  garri- 
soned and  Norfolk's  army  in  the  heart  of  Yorkshire  than  the  veil  was 
flung  aside.  A  few  isolated  outbreaks  gave  a  pretext  for  the  with- 
drawal of  every  concession.  The  arrest  of  the  leaders  of  the  "  Pil- 
grimage of  Grace,"  as  the  insurrection  was  styled,  was  followed  by 
ruthless  severities.  The  country  was  covered  with  gibbets.  Whole 
districts  were  given  up  to  military  execution.  But  it  was  on  the  leaders 
of  the  rising  that  Cromwell's  hand  fell  heaviest.  He  seized  his  oppor- 
tunity for  dealing  at  the  northern  nobles  a  fatal  blow.  "  Cromwell," 
one  of  the  chief  among  them  broke  fiercely  out  as  he  stood  at  the 
Council  board,  "  it  is  thou  that  art  the  very  special  and  chief  cause  of 
all  this  rebellion  and  wickedness,  and  dost  daily  travail  to  bring  us  to 
our  ends  and  strike  off  our  heads.  I  trust  that  ere  thou  die,  though 
thou  wouldst  procure  all  the  noblest  heads  within  the  realm  to  be 
stricken  off,  yet  there  shall  one  head  remain  that  shall  strike  off  thy 
head."  But  the  warning  was  unheeded.  Lord  Darcy,  who  stood  first 
among  the  nobles  of  Yorkshire,  and  Lord  Hussey,  who  stood  first 
among  the  nobles  of  Lincolnshire,  went  alike  to  the  block.  The  Abbot 
of  Barlings,  who  had  ridden  into  Lincoln  with  his  canons  in  full 
armour,  swung  with  his  brother  Abbots  of  Whalley,  Woburn,  and 
Sawley  from  the  gallows.  The  Abbots  of  Fountains  and  of  Jervaulx 
were  hanged  at  Tyburn  siie  by  side  with  the  representative  of  the  great 
line  of  Percy.  Lady  Bulmer  was  burnt  at  the  stake.  Sir  Robert 
Constable  was  hanged  in  chains  before  the  gate  of  Hull.  The  blow  to 
the  north  had  not  long  been  struck  when  Cromwell  turned  to  deal  with 
the  west.  The  opposition  to  his  system  gathered  above  all  round  two 
houses  who  represented  what  yet  lingered  of  Yorkist  tradition,  the 
Courlenays  and  the  Poles.  M^garet,  the  Countess  of  Salisbury,  a 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Clarenceljy  the  heiress  of  the  Earl  of  War- 
wick, was  at  once  representative  of  the  Nevilles  and  a  niece  of  Edward 
the  Fourih.  Her  third  son,  Reginald  Pole,  after  refusing  the  highest 
offers  from  Henry  as  the  price  of  his  approval  of  the  divorce,  had 
taken  refuge  in  Rome,  where  he  had  bitterly  attacked  the  King  in  a 
book  on  "The  Unity  of  the  Church."  "There  may  be  found  ways 
enough  in  Italy,"  Cromwell  wrote  to  him  in  significant  words,  "  to  rid 
a  treacherous  subject.     When  Justice  can  take  no  place  by  process  of 


VI.] 


THE  NEW  MONARCHY. 


347 


law  at  home,  sometimes  she  may  be  enforced  to  take  new  means 
abroad."  But  he  had  left  hostages  in  Henry's  hands.  "  Pity  that  the 
folly  of  one  witless  fool  should  be  the  ruin  of  so  great  a  family.  Let 
him  follow  ambition  as  fast  as  he  can,  those  that  little  have  offended 
(saving  that  he  is  of  their  kin),  were  it  not  for  the  great  mercy  and 
benignity  of  the  prince,  should  and  might  feel  what  it  is  to  have  a 
traitor  as  their  kinsman."  Pole  answered  by  pressing  the  Emoeror  to 
execute  a  bull  of  excommunication  and  deposition  which  was  now 
launched  by  the  Papacy.  Cromwell  was  quick  with  his  reply. 
Courtenay,  the  Marquis  of  Exeter,  was  a  kinsman  of  the  Poles,  and 
like  them  of  royal  blood,  a  grandson  through  his  mother  of  Edward 
the  Fourth.  He  was  known  to  have  bitterly  denounced  the  "  knaves 
that  ruled  about  the-  King ;  "  and  his  threats  to  "  give  them  some  day 
a  buffet"  were  formidable  in  the  mouth  of  one  whose  influence  in  the 
western  counties  was  supreme.  He  was  at  once  arrested  with  Lord 
Montacute,  Pole's  elder  brother,  on  a  charge  of  treason,  and  both  were 
beheaded  on  Tower  Hill,  while  the  Countess  of  Salisbury  was  attainted 
and  sent  to  the  Tower. 

Never  indeed  had  Cromwell  shown  such  greatness  as  in  his  last 
struggle  against  Fate.  "  Beknaved  "  by  the  King  whose  confidence 
in  him  waned  as  he  discerned  the  full  meaning  of  the  religious  changes, 
met  too  by  a  growing  opposition  in  the  Council  as  his  favour  declined, 
the  temper  of  the  man  remained  indomitable  as  ever.  He  stood 
absolutely  alone.  Wolsey,  hated  as  he  had  been  by  the  nobles,  had 
been  supported  by  the  Church  ;  but  Churchmen  hated  Cromwell  with 
an  even  fiercer  hate  than  the  nobles  themselves.  His  only  friends 
were  the  Protestants,  and  their  friendship  was  more  fatal  than  the 
hatred  of  his  foes.  But  he  shewed  no  signs  of  fear  or  of  halting  in  the 
course  he  had  entered  on.  His  activity  was  as  boundless  as  ever. 
Like  Wolsey  he  had  concentrated  in  his  hands  the  whole  administra- 
tion of  the  state  ;  he  was  at  once  foreign  minister  and  home  minister 
and  Vicar-General  of  the  Church,  the  creator  of  a  new  fleet,  the 
organizer  of  armies,  the  president  of  the  terrible  Star  Chamber.  But 
his  Italian  indifference  to  the  mere  show  of  power  contrasted  strongly 
with  the  pomp  of  the  Cardinal.  His  personal  habits  were  simple  and 
unostentatious.  If  he  clutched  at  money,  it  was  to  feed  the  vast  army 
of  spies  whom  he  maintained  at  his  own  expense,  and  whose  work  he 
surveyed  with  a  sleepless  vigilance.  More  than  fifty  volumes  still 
remain  of  the  gigantic  mass  of  his  correspondence.  Thousands  of 
letters  from  "poor  bedesmen,"  from  outraged  wives  and  wronged 
labourers  and  persecuted  heretics,  flowed  in  to  the  all-powerful  minister 
whose  system  of  personal  government  had  turned  him  into  the  universal 
court  of  appeal.  So  long  as  Henry  supported  him,  however  reluctantly, 
he  was  more  than  a  match  for  his  foes.  He  was  strong  enough  to 
expel  his  chief  opponent,  Bishop  Gardiner  of  Winchester,  from  the 


348 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


royal  Council.  He  met  the  hostility  of  the  nobles  with  a  threat 
which  marked  his  power.  "  If  the  lords  would  handle  him  so,  ho 
would  give  them  such  a  breakfast  as  never  was  made  in  England,  and 
that  the  proudest  of  them  should  know."  His  single  will  forced  on  a 
scheme  of  foreign  policy  whose  aim  was  to  bind  England  to  the  cause 
of  the  Reformation  while  it  bound  Henry  helplessly  to  his  minister. 
The  daring  boast  which  his  enemies  laid  afterwards  to  his  charge, 
whether  uttered  or  not,  is  but  the  expression  of  his  system.  "In  brief 
time  he  would  bring  things  to  such  a  pass  that  the  King  with  all  his 
power  should  not  be  able  to  hinder  him."  His  plans  rested,  like  the 
plan  which  proved  fatal  to  Wolsey,  on  a  fresh  marriage  of  his  master. 
The  short-lived  royalty  of  Anne  Boleyn  had  ended  in  charges  of 
adultery  and  treason,  and  in  her  death  in  May,  1536.  Her  rival  and 
successor  in  Henry's  affections,  Jane  Seymour,  died  next  year  in  child- 
birth ;  and  Cromwell  replaced  her  with  a  German  consort,  Anne  of 
Cleves,  a  sisters-law  of  the  Lutheran  elector  of  Saxony.  He  dared 
even  to  resist  Henry's  caprice,  when  the  King  revolted  on  their  first 
interview  at  the  coarse  features  and  unwieldy  form  of  his  new  bride. 
For  the  moment  Cromwell  had  brought  matters  *'  to  such  a  pdss"  that 
it  was  impossible  to  recoil  from  the  marriage.  The  marriage-of  Anne 
of  Cleves,  however,  was  but  the  first  step  in  a  policy  which,  had  it  been 
carried  out  as  he  designed  it,  would  have  anticipated  the  triumphs  of 
Richelieu.  Charles  and  the  House  of  Austria  could  alone  bring  about 
a  Catholic  reaction  strong  enough  to  arrest  and  roll  back  the  Re- 
formation ;  and  Cromwell  was  no  sooner  united  with  the  princes  of 
North  Germany  than  he  sought  to  league  them  with  France  for  the 
overthrow  of  the  Emperor.  Had  he  succeeded,  the  whole  face  of 
Europe  would  have  been  changed.  Southern  Germany  would  have 
been  secured  for  Protestantism,  and  the  Thirty  Years  War  averted. 
He  failed  as  men  fail  who  stand  ahead  of  their  age.  The  German 
princes  shrank  from  a  contest  with  the  Emperor,  France  from  a 
struggle  which  would  be  fatal  to  Catholicism  ;  and  Henry,  left  alone 
to  bear  the  resentment  of  the  House  of  Austria  and  chained  to  a  wife 
he  loathed,  turned  savagely  on  Cromwell.  The  nobles  sprang  on  him 
with  a  fierceness  that  told  of  their  long-hoarded  hate.  Taunts  and 
execrations  burst  from  the  Lords  at  the  Council  table,  as  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  who  had  been  charged  with  the  minister's  arrest,  tore  the 
ensign  of  the  Garter  from  his  neck.  At  the  charge  of  treason  Cromwell 
flung  his  cap  on  the  ground  with  a  passionate  cry  of  despair.  "  This 
then,"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  my  guerdon  for  the  services  I  have  done! 
On  your  consciences,  I  ask  you,  am  I  a  traitor  ?"  Then  with  a  sudden 
sense  that  all  was  over  he  bade  his  foes  "  make  quick  work,  and  not 
leave  me  to  languish  in  prison."  Quick  work  was  made,  ;md  a  yet 
louder  burst  of  popular  applause  than  that  which  hailed  the  attaindei 
of  Cromwell  hailed  his  execution. 


VII.  ] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


.V9 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  REFORMATION. 

Section  I.— The  Protestants.    1540— 1553. 

\Authorittes. — For  the  close  of  Henry's  reign  and  for  that  of  Edward,  we 
have  a  mass  of  material  in  Strype's  "Memorials,"  and  his  lives  of  Cranmer, 
Cheke,  and  Smith,  in  Mr.  Pocock's  edition  of  "Burnet's  History  of  the 
Reformation,"  in  Hay  ward's  Life  of  Edward,  and  Edward's  own  Journal, 
in  Holinshed's  "Chronicle,"  and  Machyn's  "  Diary"  (Camden  Society).  For 
*he  Protectorate  see  the  correspondence  published  by  Mr.  Tytler  in  his 
"England  under  Edward  VI.  and  Mary"  ;  much  light  is  thrown  (;n  its  close 
by  Mr.  Nicholls  in  the  "Chronicle  of  Queen  Jane"  (Camden  Society). 
Aujong  outer  observers,  the  Venetian  Soranzo  deals  with  the  Protectorate  ; 
and  the  despatches  of  Giovanni  Michiel,  published  by  Mr.  Friedmann,  with 
the  events  of  Mary's  reign.  In  spite  of  endless  errors,  of  Puritan  prejudices 
and  deliberate  suppressions  of  the  truth  (many  of  which  will  be  found  corrected 
by  Dr.  Maitland's  "  Essay  on  the  Reformation,"),  its  mass  of  facts  and 
wonderful  charm  of  style  will  always  give  a  great  importance  to  the  "Book 
of  Martyrs  "  of  Foxe.  The  story  of  the  t-arly  Protestants  has  been  admirably 
wrought  up  by  Mr.  Froude  ("  Hisiory  of  England,"  chap,  vi.).] 

At  Cromwell's  death  the  success  of  his  policy  was  complete.  The 
Monarchy  had  reached  the  height  of  its  power.  The  old  liberties  cf 
England  lay  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  the  King.  The  Lords  were  cowed 
and  spiritless  ;  the  House  of  Commons  was  filled  with  the  creatures  of 
the  Court  and  degraded  into  an  engine  of  tyranny.  Royal  proclamations 
were  taking  the  place  of  parliamentary  legislation  ;  benevolences  were 
encroaching  nrujre  and  more  on  the  right  of  parliamentary  taxation. 
Justice  wa^ prostituted  in  the  ordinary  courts  to  the  royal  will,  while 
the  boundless  and  arbitrary  powers  of  the  royal  Council  were  gradu- 
ally superse«ling  the  slower  processes  of  the  Common  Law.  The  new 
religious  changes  had  thrown  an  almost  sacred  character  over  the 
"majesty"  of  the  King.  Henry  was  the  Head  of  the  Church.  From 
the  primate  to  the  meanest  deacon  every  minister  of  it  derived  from 
him  his  sole  right  to  exercise  spiritual  powers.  The  voice  of  its 
preachers  was  the  echo  of  his  will.  He  alone  could  define  orthcdoxy 
or  declare  heresy.  The  forms  of  its  worship  and  belief  were  changed 
and  rechanged  at  the  royal  caprice.  Half  of  its  wealth  went  to  swell 
the  royal  treasury,  and  the  other  half  lay  at  the  King's  mercy.  It  was 
this  unprecedented  concentration  of  all  power  in  the  hands  of  a  single 
man  that  overawed  the  imagination  of  Henry's  subjects.  He  was  re- 
garded as  something  high  above  the  laws  which  govern  common  men. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHi>. 


6ec-  I. 

The  Pro- 
testants 

154>0 
1553 


Crom^rell 
and  the 
Parlia- 
ment 


/^ 


The  voices  of  statesmen  and  of  priests  extolled  his  wisdom  and  power 
as  more  than  human.  The  Parliament  itself  rose  and  bowed  to  the 
vacant  throne  when  his  name  was  mentioned.  An  absolute  devotion 
to  his  person  replaced  the  old  loyalty  to  the  law.  When  the  Primate 
of  the  English  Church  described  the  chief  merit  of  Cromwell,  it  was 
by  asserting  that  he  loved  the  King  "  no  less  than  he  loved  God." 

It  was  indeed  Cromwell,  as  we  have  seen,  who  more  than  any  man 
had  reared  this  fabric  of  king-worship  ;  but  he  had  hardly  reared  it 
before  it  began  to  live-u^ay.  The  very  success  of  his  measures  indeed 
brought  about  the  ruin  of  his  policy.  One  of  the  most  striking  features 
of  his  system  had  been  his  revivalofParliaments.y  The  great  assembly 
^r^which  the  Monarchy,  from  Edward  the  Fourth  to  Wolsey,  had  dreaded 
and  silenced,  was  called  to  the  front  again  by  Cromwell,  and  turned  into 
the  most  formidable  weapon  of  despotism.  He  saw  nothing  to  fear  in 
a  House  of  Lords  whose  nobles  cowered  helpless  before  the  might  of 
the  Crown,  and  whose  spiritual  members  his  policy  was  degrading  into 
mere  tools  of  the  royal  will.  N  or  could  he  find  anything  to  dread  in  a 
House  of  Commons  which  was  crowded  with  members  directly  or  in- 
directly nominated  by  the  royal  Council.  With  a  Parliament  such  as 
this  Cromwell  might  well  trust  to  maVe  the  nation  itself  through  its  very 
representatives  an  accomplice  in  the  work  of  absolutism.  It  was  by 
[tarliamentary  statutes  that  the  Church  was  prostrated  at  the  feet  of  the 
Monarchy.  It  was  by  bills  of  attainder  that  great  nobles  were  brought 
to  the  block.  It  was  under  constitutional  forms  that  freedom  was 
[jagged  with  new  treasons  and  oaths  and  questionings.  But  the  success 
of  such  a  system  depended  wholly  on  the  absolute  servility  of  Parlia- 
ment to  the  will  of  the  Crown,  and  Cromwell's  own  action  made  the 
continuance  of  such  a  servility  impossible.  The  part  which  the  Houses 
were  to  play  in  after  years  shows  the  importance  of  clinging  to  the 
forms  of  constitutional  freedom,  even  when  their  life  is  all  but  lost.  In 
the  inevitable  reaction  against  tyranny  they  furnish  centres  for  the 
reviving  energies  of  the  people,  while  the  returning  tide  af  liberty  is 
enabled  through  their  preservation  to  flow  quietly  and  natfnkiy  along 
its  traditional  channels.  On  one  occasion  during  CromN^l's  own  rule 
.1  "  great  debate  "  on  the  suppression  of  the  lesser  monasteries  showed 
that  elements  of  resistance  still  survived ;  and  these  elements  developed 
rapidly  as  the  power  of  the  Crown  declined  under  the  minority  of 
lidward  and  the  unpopularity  of  Mary.  To  this  revival  of  a  spirit  of 
independence  the  spoliation  of  the  Church  Lirgely  contributed.  Partly 
from  necessity,  partly  from  a  desire  to  build  up  a  faction  interested  in 
the  maintenance  of  their  ecclesiastical  policy,  Cromwell  and  the  King 
squandered  the  vast  mass  of  wealth  which  flowed  into  the  Treasury  with 
reckless  prodigality.  Something  like  *i  fifth  of  the  actual  land  in  the 
kingdom  wa^  in  this  way  transferred  from  the  holding  of  the  Cluirch  to 
that  of  nobles  and  gentry.     Not  oi^wcrc  the  older  houses  cnrichedf 


VII. 


THE  REFORMATION. 


351 


out  a  new  aristocracy  was  erected  from  among  the  dependants  of  the 
Court.  The  Russells  and  the  Cavendishes  are  famihar  instances  of 
famihes  which  rose  from  obscurity  through  the  enormous  grants  of 
Church-land  made  to  Henry's  courtiers.  The  old  baronage  was  hardly 
crushed  before  a  new  aristocracy  took  its  place.  **TTiose  families  within 
or  without  the  bounds  of  the  peerage,"  observes  Mr.  Hallam,"  who  are 
now  deemed  the  most  considerable,  will  be  found,  with  no  great  number 
of  exceptions,  to  have  first  become  conspicuous  under  the  Tudor  line 
of  kings,  and,  if  we  could  trace  the  title  of  their  estates,  to  have  acquired 
no  small  portion  of  them  mediately  or  immediately  from  monastic  or 
other  ecclesiastical  foundations."  The  leading  part  which  the  new  peers 
took  in  the  events  which  followed  Henry's  death  gave  a  fresh  strength 
and  vigour  to  the  whole  order.  But  the  iinaller  gentry  shared  in  the 
general  enrichment  of  the  landed  proprietors,  and  the  new  energy  of  the 
Lords  was  soon  followed  by  a  display  of  fresh  political  independence 
among  the  Commons  themselves. 

But  it  was  above  all  in  the  new  energy  which  the  religious  spirit  of 
the  people  at  large  drew  from  the  ecclesiastical  changes  which  he 
had  brought  about,  that  the  policy  of  Cromwell  was  fatal  to  the 
Monarchy.  Lollardry,  as  a  great  social  and  popular  movement,  had 
ceased  to  exist,  and  little  remained  of  the  directly  religious  impulse 
given  by  Wyclif  beyond  a  vague  restlessness  and  discontent  with  the 
system  of  the  Church.  But  weak  and  fitful  as  was  the  life  of  Lollardry, 
the  prosecutions  whose  records  lie  scattered  over  the  bishops'  registers 
failed  wholly  to  kill  it.  We  see  groups  meeting  here  and  there  to  read 
"  in  a  great  book  of  heresy  all  one  night  certain  chapters  of  the  Evan- 
gelists in  English,"  while  transcripts  of  Wyclif's  tracts  passed  from 
hand  to  hand.  The  smouldering  embers  needed  but  a  breath  to  fan 
them  into  flame,  and  the  breath  came  from  William  Tyndale.  He 
had  passed  from  Oxford  to  Cambridge  to  feel  the  full  impulse  given  by 
the  appearance  there  of  the  New  Testament  of  Erasmus.  From  that 
moment  one  thought  was  at  his  heart.  "  If  God  spare  my  life,"  he 
said  to  a  learned  controversialist,  "  ere  many  years  I  will  cause  a  boy 
that  driveth  the  plough  shall  know  more  of  the  scripture  than  thou 
dost."  But  he  was  a  man  of  forty  before  his  dream  became  fact. 
Drawn  from  his  retirement  in  Gloucestershire  by  the  news  of  Luther's 
protest  at  Wittemberg,  he  found  shelter  for  a  time  in  London,  and 
then  at  Hamburg,  before  hs  found  his  way  to  the  little  town  which  had 
suddenly  become  the  sacred  city  of  the  Reformation.  Students  of  all 
nations  were  Hocking  there  with  an  enthusiasm  which  resembled  that 
of  the  Crusades.  "  As  they  came  in  sight  of  the  town,"  a  contemporary 
tells  us,  "  they  returned  thanks  to  God  with  clasped  hands,  for  from 
Wittemberg,  as  heretofore  from  Jerusalem,  the  light  of  evangelical 
*ruth  had  spread  to  the  utmost  parts  of  the  earth."  In  1525  his  version 
ot  the  New  Testament  was  completed.      Driven  from  "Koln,  he  had  to 


35.-^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA?. 


fly  with  his  sheets  to  Worms,  from  whence  six  thousand  copies  of  the 
New  Testament  were  sent  to  English  shores.  But  it  was  not  as  a 
mere  translation  of  the  Bible  that  Tyndale's  work  reached  England. 
It  came  as  a  part  of  the  Lutheran  movement  ;  it  bore  the  Lutheran 
stamp  in  its  version  of  ecclesiastical  words  ;  it  came  too  in  company 
with  Luther's  bitter  invectives  and  reprints  of  the  tracts  of  Wyclif. 
It  was  denounced  as  heretical,  and  a  pi  e  of  books  was  burned  before 
Wolsey  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  Bibles  and  pamphlets  however 
were  smuggled  over  to  England  and  circulated  among  the  poorer  and 
trading  classes  through  the  agency  of  an  association  of  "  Christian 
Brethren,"  <  onsisting  principally  of  London  tradesmen  and  citizens, 
but  whose  missionaries  spread  over  the  country  at  large.  They  found 
their  way  at  once  to  the  Universities,  where  the  mtellectual  impulse 
given  by  the  New  Learning  was  quickening  religious  speculation. 
Cambridge  had  already  won  a  name  for  heresy,  and  the  Cambridge 
scholars  whom  Wolsey  introduced  into  Cardinal  College  which  he  was 
founding  spread  the  contagion  through  Oxford.  A  group  of  "  Brethren  " 
which  was  formed  in  Cardinal  College  for  the  secret  reading  and  dis- 
cussion of  the  Epistles  soon  included  the  more  intelligent  and  learned 
scholars  of  the  University.  It  was  in  vain  that  Clark,  the  centre  of 
this  group,  strove  to  dissuade  fresh  members  from  joining  it  by  warn- 
ings of  the  impending  dangers.  "  I  fell  down  on  my  knees  at  his  feet," 
says  one  of  them,  Anthony  Dalaber,  "  and  with  tears  and  sighs  be- 
i  sought  him  that  for  the  tender  mercy  of  God  he  should  not  refuse  me, 
saying  that  I  trusted  verily  that  He  who  had  begun  this  on  me  would 
not  forsake  me,  but  would  give  me  grace  to  continue  therein  to  the 
end.  When  he  heard  me  say  so  he  ca  ne  to  me,  took  me  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  me,  saying,  '  The  Lord  God  Almighty  grant  you  so  to  do, 
and  from  henceforth  ever  take  me  for  your  father,  and  I  will  take 
you  for  my  son  in  Christ.'"  The  excitement  which  followed 
on  this  rapid  diffusion  of  Tyndale's  works  forced  Wolsey  to  more 
vigorous  action  ;  many  of  the  Oxford  Brethren  were  thrown  into 
prison  and  their  books  seized.  But  in  spite  of  the  panic  of  the 
Protestants,  some  of  whom  fled  over  sea,  little  severity  was  really 
exercised ;  and  Wolsey  remained  steadily  indifferent  to  all  but 
political  matters. 

Henry's  chief  anxiety,  indeed,  was  lest  in  the  outburst  against  heresy 
the  interest  of  the  New  Learning  should  suffer  harm.  This  was 
remarkably  shown  in  the  protection  he  extended  to  one  who  was 
destined  to  eclipse  even  the  fame  of  Colet  as  a  popular  preacher. 
Hugh  Latimer  was  the  son  of  a  Leicestershire  yeoman,  whose  armour 
the  boy  had  buckled  on  ere  he  set  out  to  meet  the  Cornish  insurgents 
at  Blackhcath  field.  He  has  himself  described  the  soldierly  training 
of  his  youth.  "  My  father  was  delighted  to  teach  me  to  shoot  with  ilia 
bow.     He  taught  me  how  to  draw,  how  to  lay  my  body  lo  the  bo.f 


vjl] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


353 


not  to  draw  with  strength  of  arm  as  other  nations  do,  but  with  the 
strength  of  the  body."  At  fourteen  he  was  at  Cambridge,  flinging 
himself  into  the  New  Learning  which  was  winning  its  way  there  with 
a  zeal  which  at  last  told  on  his  physical  strength.  The  ardour  of  his 
mental  efforts  left  its  mark  on  him  in  ailments  and  enfeebled  health, 
from  which,  vigorous  as  he  was,  his  frame  never  wholly  freed  itself. 
But  he  was  destined  to  be  known,  not  as  a  scholar,  but  as  a  preacher. 
The  sturdy  good  sense  of  the  man  shook  off  the  pedantry  of  the 
schools  as  well  as  the  subtlety  of  the  theologian  in  his  addresses  from 
the  pulpit.  He  had  little  turn  for  speculation,  and  in  the  religious 
changes  of  the  day  we  find  him  constantly  lagging  behind  his  brother 
reformers.  But  he  had  the  moral  earnestness  of  a  Jewish  prophet, 
and  his  denunciations  of  wrong  had  a  prophetic  directness  and 
fire.  "  Have  pity  on  your  soul,"  he  cried  to  Henry,  "  and  think  that 
the  day  is  even  at  hand  when  you  shall  give  an  account  of  your 
office,  and  of  the  blood  that  hath  been  shed  by  your  sword."  His 
irony  was  yet  more  telling  than  his  invective.  "I  would  ask  you -a 
strange  question,"  he  said  once  at  Paul's  Cross  to  a  ring  of  Bishops, 
"  who  is  the  most  diligent  prelate  in  all  England,  that  passeth  all  the 
rest  in  doing  of  his  office  ?  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  the  Devil !  of  all 
the  pack  of  them  that  have  cure,  the  Devil  shall  go  for  my  money  ; 
for  he  ordereth  his  business.  Therefore,  you  unpreaching  prelates, 
learn  of  the  Devil  to  be  diligent  in  your  office.  If  you  will  not  learn 
of  God,  for  shame  learn  of  the  Devil."  But  he  was  far  from  limiting 
himself  to  invective.  His  homely  humour  breaks  in  with  story  and 
apologue  ;  his  earnestness  is  always  tempered  with  good  stiise  ;  his 
plain  and  simple  style  quickens  with  a  shrewd  mother-wit.  He  talks 
to  his  hearers  as  a  man  talks  to  his  friends,  telling  stories  such  as  we 
have  given  of  his  own  life  at  home,  or  chatting  about  the  changes  and 
chances  of  the  day  with  a  transparent  simplicity  and  truth  that  raises 
even  his  chat  into  grandeur.  His  theme  is  always  the  actual  world 
about  him,  and  in  his  homely  lessons  of  loyalty,  of  industry,  of  pity 
for  the  poor,  he  touches  upon  almost  every  subject,  from  the  plough 
to  the  throne.  No  such  preaching  had  been  heard  in  England  before 
his  day,  and  with  the  growth  of  his  fame  grew  the  danger  of  perse- 
cution. There  were  moments  when,  bold  as  he  was,  Latimer's  heart  | 
failed  him.  "  If  I  had  not  trust  that  God  will  help  me,"  he  wrote  j 
once,  "  I  think  the  ocean  sea  would  have  divided  my  lord  of  London  I 
and  me  by  this  day."  A  citation  for  heresy  at  last  brought  the  danger  ' 
home.  "  I  intend,"  he  wrote  with  his  peculiar  medley  of  humour  and 
pathos,  "  to  make  merry  with  my  parishioners  this  Christmas,  for  all 
the  sorrow,  lest  perchance  I  may  never  return  to  them  again."  But 
he  was  saved  throughout  by  the  steady  protection  of  the  Court 
Wolsey  upheld  him  against  the  threats  of  the  Bishop  of  Ely  ;  Henry 
made  him   his   own  chaplain  ;  and  the   King's  interposition  at  this 


r^ 


354 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


critical  moment  forced  Latimers  judges  to  consent  themi.elves  with  a 
few  vague  words  of  submission. 

Henry's  quarrel  with  Rome  saved  the  Protestants  from  the  keener 
persecution  which  troubled  them  after  Wolsey's  fall.  The  divorce, 
the  renunciation  of  the  Papacy,  the  degradation  of  the  clergy,  the 
suppression  of  the  monasteries,  the  religious  changes,  fell  ike  a  series 
of  heavy  blows  upon  the  priesthood.  From  persecutors  they  suddenly 
sank  into  men  trembling  for  their  very  lives.  Those  who  n  they  had 
threatened  were  placed  at  their  head  Cranmer  became  Primate  ; 
Shaxton,  a  favourer  of  the  new  changes,  was  raised  t('  the  see  of 
Salisbury  ;  Barlow,  a  yet  more  extreme  partizan,  to  that  of  3t.  David's  ; 
Hilsey  to  that  of  Rochester  ;  Goodrich  to  that  of  Ely  ;  F)x  to  that  of 
Hereford.  Latimer  himself  became  Bishop  of  Worcester,  and  in  a 
vehement  address  to  the  clergy  in  Convocation  taunted  them  with 
their  greed  and  superstition  in  the  past,  and  with  their  inatrtivity  when 
the  King  and  his  Parliament  were  labouring  for  the  revival  of  religion. 
The  aim  of  Cromwell,  as  we  have  seen,  was  simply  that  of  the  New 
^Learning  ;  he  desired  religious  reform  rather  than  revoluti(m,  a  simpli- 
fication rather  than  a  change  of  doctrine,  the  purification  of  worship 
rather  than  the  introduction  of  a  new  ritual.  But  it  was  impossible  to 
strike  blow  after  blow  at  the  Church  without  leaning  instinctively  to 
the  party  who  sympathized  with  the  German  reformation,  and  were 
longing  for  a  more  radical  change  at  home.  Few  as  these  "  Luther- 
ans "  or  "Protestants"  still  were  in  numbers,  their  new  hopes  made 
them  a  formidable  force  ;  and  in  the  school  of  persecution  they  had 
learned  a  violence  which  delighted  in  outrages  on  the  faith  which  had 
so  long  trampled  them  under  foot.  At  the  very  outset  of  Cromwell's 
changes  four  Suffolk  youths  broke  into  the  church  at  Dovercourt,  tore 
down  a  wonder-working  crucifix,  and  burned  it  in  the  fields.  The 
suppression  of  the  lesser  monasteries  was  the  .signal  for  a  new  out- 
burst of  ribald  insult  to  the  old  religion.  The  roughness,  insolence, 
and  extortion  of  the  Commissioners  sent  to  effect  it  drove  the  whole 
monastic  body  to  despair.  Their  servants  rode  along  the  road  with 
copes  for  doublets  and  tunicles  for  saddle-cloths,  and  scattered  panic 
among  the  larger  houses  which  were  left.  Some  sold  their  jewels  and 
relics  to  provide  for  the  evil  day  they  saw  approaching.  Some  be.;ged 
of  their  own  will  for  dissolution.  It  was  worse  when  fresh  ordinances 
of  the  Vicar-General  ordered  the  removal  of  objects  of  superstitious 
veneration.  The  removal,  bitter  enough  to  those  whose  religion 
twined  itself  around  the  image  or  the  relic  which  was  taken  away,  was 
yet  more  embittered  by  the  insults  with  which  it  was  accompanied. 
The  miraculous  rood  at  Boxley,  which  bowed  its  head  and  stirred  its 
eyes,  was  paraded  from  market  to  »^iarket  and  exhibited  as  a  juggle 
before  the  Court  Images  of  the  Virgin  were  stripped  of  their  costly 
vestments  and  sent  to  be  publicly  burnt  at  London.      Latimer  for- 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


355 


warded  to  the  capital  the  figure  of  Our  Lady,  which  he  had  thrust  out 
of  his  cathedral  church  at  Worcester,  with  rough  words  of  scorn  : 
"  She  with  her  old  sister  of  Walsingham,  her  younger  sister  of  Ips- 
wich, and  their  two  other  sisters  of  Doncaster  and  Penrice,  would 
make  a  jolly  muster  at  Smithfield."  Fresh  orders  were  given  to  fling 
all  relics  from  their  reliquaries,  and  to  level  every  shrine  with  the 
ground.  The  bones  of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  were  torn  from  the 
stately  shrine  which  had  been  the  glory  of  his  metropolitan  church, 
and  his  name  was  erased  from  the  service-books  as  that  of  a  traitor. 
The  introduction  of  the  English  Bible  into  churches  gave  a  new  open- 
ing for  the  zeal  of  the  Protestants.  In  spite  of  royal  injunctions  that 
it  should  be  read  decently  and  without  comment,  the  young  zealots  of 
the  party  prided  themselves  on  shouting  it  out  to  a  circle  of  excited 
hearers  during  the  service  of  mass,  and  accompanied  their  reading 
with  violent  expositions.  Protestant  maidens  took  the  new  English 
primer  to  church  with  them,  and  studied  it  ostentatiously  during 
matins.  Insult  passed  into  open  violence  when  the  Bishops'  Courts 
were  invaded  and  broken  up  by  Protestant  mobs ;  and  law  and 
public  opinion  were  outraged  at  once  when  priests  who  favoured  the 
new  doctrines  began  openly  to  bring  home  wives  to  their  vicarages. 
A  fiery  outburst  of  popular  discussion  compensated  for  the  silence  of 
the  pulpits.  The  new  Scriptures,  in  Henry's  bitter  words  of  complaint, 
were  "  disputed,  rimed,  sung,  and  jangled  in  every  tavern  and  ale- 
house." The  articles  which  dictated  the  belief  of  the  English  Church 
roused  a  furious  controversy.  Above  all,  the  SacramenJLof,  the  Mass, 
the  centre  of  the  Catholic  system  of  faith  and  worship,  and  which  still 
remained  sacred  to  the  bulk  of  Englishmen,  was  attacked  with  a 
scurrility  and  profaneness  which  passes  belief.  The  doctrine  of 
Transubstantiation,  which  was  as  yet  recognized  by  law,  was  held  up 
to  scorn  in  ballads  and  mystery  plays.  In  one  church  a  Protestant 
lawyer  raised  a  dog  in  his  hands  when  the  priest  elevated  the  Host. 
The  most  sacred  words  of  the  old  worship,  the  words  of  consecra- 
tion, "  Hoc  est  corpus,"  were  travestied  into  a  nickname  for  jugglery 
as  "  Hocus-pocus."  It  was  by  this  attack  on  the  Mass,  even  more 
than  by  the  other  outrages,  that  the  "teiriper  both  of  Henry  and  the 
nation  was  stirred  to  a  deep  resentment  ;  and  the  first  signs  of  re- 
action were  seen  in  the  Act  of  the  Six  Articles,  which  was  passed  by 
the  Parliament  with  general  assent.  On  the  doctrine  of  Transubstan- 
tiation, which  was  re-asserted  by  the  first  of  these,  there  was  no  difi'er- 
ence  of  feeling  or  belief  between  the  men  of  the  New  Learning  and  the 
older  Catholics.  But  the  road  to  a  further  instalment  of  even  moderate 
reform  seemed  closed  by  the  five  other  articles  which  sanctioned  com- 
munion in  one  kind,  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  monastic  vows,  private 
masses,  and  auricular  confession.  A  more  terrible  feature_of  the  re; 
action  was  the  revival  of  persecution.     Burning  was  denounced  as  the 


356 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  I. 

The  Pro- 
testants 

154-0 

TO 

1553 


The 

Death  of 

Henry 

VIII. 


penalty  for  a  denial  of  transubstantiation  ;  on  a  second  offence  it  be- 
came the  penalty  for  an  infraction  of  the  other  five  doctrines.  A 
refusal  to  confess  or  to  attend  Mass  was  made  felony.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Cranmer,  with  the  five  bishops  who  partially  sympathized  with 
the  Protestants,  struggled  against  the  bill  in  the  Lords :  the  Commons 
were  "all  of  one  opinion,"  iA-\d  Henry  himself  acted  as  spokesman  on 
the  side  of  the  Articles.  In  London  alone  five  hundred  Protestants 
were  indicted  under  the  new  act.  Latimer  and  Shaxton  were  im 
prisoned,  and  the  former  forced  into  a  resignation  of  his  see 
Cranmer  himself  was  only  saved  by  Henry's  personal  favour.  But 
the  first  burst  of  triumph  had  no  sooner  spent  itself  than  the  strong 
hand  of  Cromwell  again  made  itself  felt.  Though  his  opinions  re- 
mained those  of  the  New  Learning  and  differed  little  from  the 
general  sentiment  represented  in  the  Act,  he  leaned  instinctively  to  the 
one  party  which  did  not  long  for  his  fall.  His  wish  was  to  restrain  the 
Protestant  excesses,  but  he  had  no  mind  to  ruin  the  Protestants.  The 
bishops  were  quietly  released.  The  London  indictments  were  quashed. 
The  magistrates  were  checked  in  their  enforcement  of  the  law,  while  a 
general  pardon  cleared  the  prisons  of  the  heretics  who  had  been 
arrested  under  its  provisions.  A  few  months  after  the  enactment  of 
the  Six  Articles  we  find  from  a  Protestant  letter  that  persecution  had 
wholly  ceased,  "  the  Word  is  powerfully  preached  and  books  of  every' 
kind  may  safely  be  exposed  for  sale." 

At  Cromwell's  fall  his  designs  seemed  to  be  utterly  abandoned.  The 
marriage  with  Anne  of  Cleves  was  annulled,  and  a  new  Queen  found 
in  Catharine  Howard,  a  niece  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  Norfolk  him- 
self returned  to  power,  and  resumed  the  policy  which  Cromwell  had 
interrupted.  Like  the  King  he  looked  to  an  Imperial  alliance  rather 
than  an  alliance  with  Francis  and  the  Lutherans.  He  still  clung  to 
the  dream  of  the  New  Learning,  to  a  purification  of  the  Church  through 
a  general  Council,  and  the  reconciliation  of  England  with  the  purified 
body  of  Catholicism.  For  such  a  purpose  it  was  necessary  to  vindicate 
English  orthodoxy  ;  and  to  ally  England  with  the  Emperor,  by  whose 
influence  alone  the  assembly  of  such  a  Council  could  be  brought  about. 
To  the  hotter  Catholics  indeed,  as  to  the  hotter  Protestants,  the  years 
after  Cromwell's  fall  seemed  years  of  a  gradual  return  to  Catholicism. 
There  was  a  slight  sharpening  of  persecution  for  the  Protestants,  and 
restrictions  were  put  on  the  reading  of  the  English  Bible.  But  neither 
Norfolk  nor  his  master  desired  any  rigorous  measure  of  reaction.  There 
was  no  thought  of  reviving  the  old  superstitions,  or  undoing  the  wprk 
which  had  been  done,  but  simply  of  guarding  the  purified  faith  against 
Lutheran  heresy.  The  work  of  supplying  men  with  means  of  devotion 
in  their  own  tongue  was  still  carried  on  by  the  publication  of  an  English 
Litany  and  prayers,  which  furnished  the  germ  of  the  national  Prayer 
Book  of  a  later  time.     The  greater  abbeys  which  had  been  saved  by 


VII.  J 


THE  REFORMATION. 


357 


the  energetic  resistance  of  the  Parliament  in  1536  had  in  1539  been 
involved  in  the  same  ruin  with  the  smaller  ;  but  in  spite  of  this  con- 
fiscation the  treasury  was  now  empty,  and  by  a  bill  of  1 545  more  than 
two  thousand  chauntries  and  chapels,  with  a  hundred  and  ten  hos- 
pitals, were  suppressed  to  the  profit  of  the  Crown.  If  the  friendship 
of  England  was  offered  to  Charles,  when  the  struggle  between  France 
and  the  House  of  Austria  burst  again  for  a  time  into  flame,  it  was 
because  Henry  saw  in  the  Imperial  alliance  the  best  hope  for  the 
reformation  of  the  Church  and  the  restoration  of  unity.  But,  as  Crom- 
well had  foreseen,  the  time  for  a  peaceful  reform  and  for  a  general 
reunion  of  Christendom  was  past.  The  Council,  so  passionately  de- 
sired, met  at  Trent  in  no  spirit  of  conciliation,  but  to  ratify  the  very 
superstitions  and  errors  against  which  the  New  Learning  had  protested, 
and  which  England  and  Germany  had  flung  away.  The  long  hostility 
of  France  and  the  House  of  Austria  merged  in  the  greater  struggle 
which  was  opening  between  Catholicism  and  the  Reformation.  Tbe 
Emperor  allied  himself  definitely  with  the  Pope.  As  their  hopes  of 
a  middle  course  faded,  the  Catbohc  nobles  themselves  drifted  uncon- 
sciously with  the  tide  of  reaction.  Anne  Ascue  was  tortured  and  burnt 
with  three  companions  for  the  denial  of  Transubstantiation.  Latimer 
was  examined  before  the  Council ;  and  Cranmer  himself,  who  in  the 
general  dissolution  of  the  moderate  party  was  drifting  towards  Pro- 
testantism as  Norfolk  was  drifting  towards  Rome,  was  for  a  moment 
in  danger.  But  at  the  last  hours  of  his  life  Henry  proved  himself  true 
to  the  work  he  had  begun.  His  resolve  not  to  bow  to  the  pretensions 
of  the  Papacy  sanctioned  at  Trent  threw  him,  whether  he  would  or  no, 
back  on  the  policy  of  the  great  minister  whom  he  had  hurried  to  the 
block.  He  offered  to  unite  in  a  "  League  Christian  "  with  the  German 
Princes.  He  consented  to  the  change,  suggested  by  Cranmer,  of  the 
Mass  into  a  Communion  Service.  He  flung  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  into 
the  Tower  as  a  traitor,  and  sent  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  to  the 
_bk>ck.  The  Earl  of  Hertford,  the  head  of  the  "  new  men,"  and  known 
as  a  patron  of  the  Protestants,  came  to  the  front,  and  was  appointed 
one  of  the  Council  of  Regency  which  Henry  nominated  at  his 
death. 

Catharine  Howard  atoned  like  Anne  Boleyn  for  her  unchastity  by  a 
traitor's  death  ;  her  successor  on  the  throne,  Catharine  Parr,  had  the 
luck  to  outlive  the  King.  But  of  Henry's  numerous  marriages  only 
three  children  survived ;  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  the  daughters  of 
Catharine  of  Aragon  and  of  Anne  Boleyn  ;  and  Edward,  the  boy  who 
now  ascended  the  throne  as  Edward  the  Sixth,  his  son  by  Jane 
Seymour.  As  Edward  was  but  nine  years  old,  Henry  had  appointed 
a  carefully  balanced  Council  of  Regency  ;  but  the  will  fell  into  the 
keeping  of  Jane's  brother,  whom  he  had  raised  to  the  peerage  as  Lord 
Hertford,  and  who  at  a  later  time  assumed  the  title  of  Duke  of  Somerset. 


SomersQf; 


358 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP 


When  the  list  of  regents  was  at  last  disclosed  Gardiner,  who  had  till 
now  been  the  leading  minister,  was  declared  to  have  been  excluded 
from  it ;  and  Hertford  seized  the  whole  royal  power  witn  the  title  of 
Protector,  His  personal  weakness  forced  him  at  once  to  seek  for  popular 
support  by  measures  which  marked  the  first  retreat  of  the  Monarchy 
from  the  position  of  pure  absolutism  which  it  had  reached  under  Henry. 
The  Statute  which  had  given  to  royal  proclamations  the  force  of  law 
was  repealed,  and  several  of  the  new  felonies  and  treasons  which  Crom- 
well had  created  and  used  with  so  terrible  an  effect  were  erased  from 
the  Statute  Book.  The  hope  of  support  from  the  Protestants  united 
with  Hertford's  personal  predilections  in  his  patronage  of  the  innova- 
tions against  which  Henry  had  battled  to  the  last.  Cranmer  had  now 
drifted  into  a  purely  Protestant  position  ;  and  his  open  break  with  the 
older  system  followed  quickly  on  Hertford's  rise  to  power.  "  This 
year,"  says  a  contemporary,  "  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  did  eat 
meat  openly  in  Lent  in  the  Hall  of  Lambeth,  the  likeof  which  was  never 
seen  since  England  was  a  Christian  country."  This  significant  act  was 
followed  by  a  rapid  succession  of  sweeping  changes.  The  legal  pro- 
hibitions of  Lollardry  were  removed  ;  the  Six  Articles  were  repealed  ; 
a  royal  injunction  removed  all  pictures  and  images  from  the  churches  ; 
priests  were  permitted  to  marry;  the  new  Communion  which  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  Mass  was  ordered  to  be  administered  in  both  kinds, 
and  in  the  English  tongue  ;  an  English  book  of  Common  Prayer,  the 
Liturgy  which  with  slight  alterations  is  still  used  in  the  Church  of 
England,  replaced  the  Missal  and  Breviary  from  which  its  contents  are 
mainly  drawn.  These  sweeping  religious  changes  were  carried  through 
with  the  despotism,  if  not  with  the  vigour,  of  Cromwell.  Gardiner,  who 
in  his  acceptance  of  the  personal  supremacy  of  the  sovereign  denounced 
all  ecclesiastical  changes  made  during  the  King's  minority  as  illegal 
and  invalid,  was  sent  to  the  Tower.  1  he  power  of  preaching  was 
restricted  by  the  issue  of  licences  only  to  the  friends  of  the  Primate. 
While  all  counter  arguments  were  rigidly  suppressed,  a  crowd  of  Pro- 
testant pamphleteers  flooded  the  country  with  vehement  invectives 
against  the  Mass  and  its  superstitious  accompaniments.  The  assent  of 
noble  and  landowner  was  won  by  the  suppression  of  chauntries  and 
religious  gilds,  and  by  glutting  their  greed  wiih  the  last  spoils  of  the 
Church.  German  and  Italian  mercenaries  were  introduced  to  stamp 
out  the  wider  popular  discontent  which  broke  out  in  the  east,  in  the 
west,  and  in  the  midland  counties.  The  Cornishmen  refused  to  receive 
the  new  service  ''because  it  is  like  a  Christmas  game."  Devonshire 
demanded  in  open  revolt  the  restoration  of  the  Mass  and  the  Six 
Articles.  The  agrarian  discontent,  now  heightened  by  economic 
changes,  woke  again  in  the  general  disorder.  Twenty  thousand  men 
gathered  round  the  "  oak  of  Reformation"  near  Norwich,  and  repulsing 
the  royal  troops  in   a   desperate  engagement  renewed  the  old  cries 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


359 


for  the  removal  of  evil  counsellors,  a  prohibition  of  enclosures,  and 
redress  for  the  grievances  of  the  poor. 

Revolt  was  stamped  out  in  blood  ;  but  the  weakness  which  the 
Protector  had  shown  in  presence  of  the  danger,  his  tampering  with 
popular  demands,  and  the  anger  of  the  nobles  at  his  resolve  to  enforce 
the  laws  against  enclosures  and  evictions,  ended  in  his  fall.  He  was 
forced  by  the  Council  to  resign,  and  his  power  passed  to  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  to  whose  ruthless  severity  the  suppression  of  the  revolt  was 
mainly  due.  But  the  change  of  governors  brought  about  no  change  of  sys- 
tem. The  rule  of  the  upstart  nobles  who  formed  the  Council  of  Regency 
became  simply  a  rule  of  terror.  "  The  greater  part  of  the  people," 
one  of  their  creatures,  Cecil,  avowed,  "  is  not  in  favour  of  defending 
this  cause,  but  of  aiding  its  adversaries  ;  on  that  side  are  the  greater 
part  of  tjie  nobles,  who  absent  themselves  from  Court,  all  the  bishops 
save  three  or  four,  almost  all  the  judges  and  lawyers,  almost  all  the 
justices  of  the  peace,  the  priests  who  can  move  their  flocks  any  way, 
for  the  whole  of  the  commonalty  is  in  such  a  state  of  irritation  that  it 
will  easily  follow  any  stir  towards  change."  But,  heedless  of  danger 
from  without  or  from  within,  Cranmer  and  his  colleagues  advanced 
yet  more  boldly  in  the  career  of  innovation.  Four  prelates  who 
adhered  to  the  older  system  were  deprived  of  their  sees  and  committed 
on  frivolous  pretexts  to  the  Tower.  A  new  Catechism  embodied  the 
doctrines  of  the  reformers  ;  and  a  Book  of  Homilies,  which  enforced 
the  chief  Protestant  tenets,  was  appointed  to  be  read  in  churches.  A 
crowning  defiance  was  given  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Mass  by  an  order 
to  demolish  the  stone  altars  and  replace  them  by  wooden  tables,  which 
were  stationed  for  the  most  part  in  the  middle  of  the  church.  A 
revised  Prayer-book  was  issued,  and  every  change  made  in  it  leaned 
directly  towards  the  extreme  Protestantism  which  was  at  this  time 
finding  a  home  at  Geneva.  Forty-two  Articles  of  Religion  were  intro- 
duced ;  and  though  since  reduced  by  omissions  tQ_th[rty-nine,  these 
have  remained  to  this  day  the  formal  standard  of  doctrine  irr"the 
English  Church.  The  sufferings  of  the  Protestants  had  failed  to 
teach  them  the  worth  of  religious  liberty  ;  and  a  new  code  of  eccle- 
siastical laws,  which  was  ordered  to  be  drawn  up  by  a  board  of 
Commissioners  as  a  substitute  for  the  Canon  Law  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  although  it  shrank  from  the  penalty  of  death,  attached  that  of 
perpetual  imprisonment  or  exile  to  the  crimes  of  heresy,  blasphemy, 
and  adultery,  and  declared  excommunication  to  involve  a  severance 
of  the  o  .ender  fron  the  mercy  of  God,  and  his  deliverance  into  the 
tyranny  of  the  devil.  Delays  in  the  completion  of  this  Code  prevented 
its  legal  establishment  during  Edward's  reign  ;  but  the  use  of  the  new 
Liturgy  and  attendance  at  the  new  service  was  enforced  by  imprison- 
ment, and  subscription  to  the  Articles  of  Faith  was  demanded  by 
royal  authority  from  all  clergymen,  churchwardens,  and  schoolmasters. 


36o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


ICHAP. 


The  Pro- 

l-SSTANTS 

L54.0 

TO 

1553 


/ 


The  distaste  for  changes  so  hurried  and  so  rigorously  enforced  was 
increased  by  the  daring  speculations  of  the  more  extreme  Protestants. 
The  real  value  of  the  religious  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century  to 
mankind  lay,  not  in  its  substitution  of  one  creed  for  another,  but  in 
the  new  spirit  of  inquiry,  the  new  freedom  ox  thought  and  of  discussion, 
which  was-awakened-dwifig  the  process  of  change.  But  however 
familiar  such  a  truth  may  be  to  us,  it  was  absolutely  hidden  from  th^ 
England  of  the  time.  Men  heard  with  horror  that  t  e  foundations  of 
faith  and  morality  were  questioned,  polygamy  advocated,  oaths 
denounced  as  unlawful,  community  of  goods  .aised  int  a  sacred 
obligation,  the  very  Godhead  of  the  Foi  ider  of  Christianity  denied. 
The  repeal  of  the  Statute  of  Heresy  left  the  powers  of  the  Common 
Law  intact,  and  Cranmer  availed  himself  of  these  to  send  heretics  of 
the  last  class  without  mercy  to  the  stake  ;  but  within  the  Church  itself 
the  Primate's  desire  for  uniformity  was  roughly  resisted  by  the  more 
ardent  members  of  his  own  party.  Hooper,  who  had  been  named 
Bishop  of  Gloucester,  refused  to  wear  the  episcopal  habits,  and 
denounced  them  as  the  livery  of  the  "  harlot  of  Babylon,"  a  name  for 
the  Papacy  which  was  supposed  to  have  been  discovered  in  the 
Apocalypse.  Ecclesiastical  order  was  almost  at  an  end.  Priests 
flung  aside  the  surplice  as  superstitious.  Patrons  of  livings  presented 
their  huntsmen  or  gamekeepers  to  the  benefices  in  their  gift,  and  kept 
the  stipend.  All  teaching  of  divinity  ceased  at  the  Universities  :  the 
students  indeed  had  fallen  off  in  numbers,  the  libraries  were  in  part 
scattered  or  burnt,  the  intellectual  impulse  of  the  New  Learning  died 
away.  One  noble  measure  indeed,  the  foundation^^-joi^-eightcgg 
Grammar  Schools,  was  destined  to  throw  a  lustre  over  the  name  of 
Edward,  but  it  had  no  tune  to  bear  fruit  in  his  reign.  All  that  men 
saw  was  religious  and  political  chaos,  in  which  ecclesiastical  order 
had  perished  and  in  which  politics  were  dying  down  into  the  squabbles 
of  a  knot  of  nobles  over  the  spoils  of  the  Church  and  the  Crown.  The 
plunder  of  the  chauntries  and  the  gilds  failed  to  glut  the  appetite  of 
the  crew  of  spoilers.  Half  the  lands  of  every  see  were  flung  to  them 
in  vain :  the  wealthy  see  of  Durham  had  been  suppressed  to  satisfy 
their  greed ;  and  the  whole  endowments  of  the  Church  were  threatened 
with  confiscation.  But  while  the  courtiers  gorged  themselves  with 
manors,  the  Treasury  grew  poorer.  The  coinage  was  again  debased. 
Crown  lands  to  the  value  of  five  millions  of  our  modern  money  had 
been  granted  away  to  the  friends  of  Somerset  and  Warwick.  The 
royal  expenditure  had  mounted  in  seventeen  years  to  more  than  four 
times  its  previous  total.  It  is  clear  that  England  must  soon  have  risen 
against  the  misrule  of  the  Protectorate,  if  the  Protectorate  had  nol 
fallen  by  the  intestine  divisions  of  the  plunderers  themselves. 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


361 


Section  II.— The  Martyrs.    1553—1558. 

[AutkoriHes — As  before.] 

The  waning  health  of  Edward  warned  Warwick,  who  had  now 
become  Duke  of  Northumberland,  of  an  unlooked-for  danger.  Mary, 
the  daughter  of  Catharine  of  Aragon,  who  had  been  placed  next  to 
Edward  by  the  Act  of  Succession,  remained  firm  amidst  all  the  changes 
of  the  time  to  the  older  faith  ;  and  her  accession  threatened  to  be  the 
signal  for  its  return.  But  the  bigotry  of  the  young  King  was  easily 
brought  to  consent  to  a  daring  scheme  by  which  her  rights  might  be 
set  aside.  Edward's  "  plan,"  as  Northumberland  dictated  it,  annulled 
both  the  Statute  of  Succession  and  the  will  of  his  father,  to  whom  the 
right  of  disposing  of  the  Crown  after  the  death  of  his  own  children  had 
been  entrusted  by  Parliament.  It  set  aside  both  Mary  and  Elizabeth, 
who  stood  next  in  the  Act.  With  this  exclusion  of  the  direct  line 
of  Henry  the  Eighth  the  succession  would  vest,  if  the  rules  of  here- 
ditary descent  were  observed,  in  the  descendants  of  his  elder  sister 
Margaret,  who  had  become  by  her  first  husband,  James  the  Fourth  of 
Scotland,  the  grandmother  of  the  young  Scottish  Queen,  Mary  Stuart ; 
and,  by  a  second  marriage  with  the  Earl  of  Angus,  was  the  grandmother 
of  Henry  Stuart,  Lord  Darnley.  Henry's  will,  however,  had  passed  by 
the  children  of  Margaret,  and  had  placed  next  to  Elizabeth  in  the  suc- 
cession the  children  of  his  younger  sister  Mary,  the  wife  of  Charles 
Brandon,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk.  Frances,  Mary's  child  by  this  marriage, 
was  still  living,  and  was  the  mother  of  three  daughters  by  her  marriage 
with  Grey,  Lord  Dorset,  a  hot  partizan  of  the  religious  changes,  who  had 
been  raised  under  the  Protectorate  to  the  Dukedom  of  Suffolk.  Frances 
however  was  passed  over,  and  Edward's  "  plan  "  named  her  eldest  child 
Jane  as  his  successor.  The  marriage  of  Jane  Grey  with  Guildford 
Dudley,  the  fourth  son  of  Northumberland,  was  all  that  was  needed  to 
complete  the  unscrupulous  plot.  The  consent  of  the  judges  and  council 
to  her  succession  was  extorted  by  the  authority  of  the  dying  King,  and 
the  new  sovereign  was  proclaimed  on  Edward's  death.  But  the  temper 
of  the  whole  people  rebelled  against  so  lawless  a  usurpation.  The 
eastern  counties  rose  as  one  man  to  support  Mary ;  and  when  Northum- 
berland marched  from  London  with  ten  thousand  at  his  back  to  crush 
the  rising,  the  Londoners,  Protestant  as  they  were,  showed  their  ill-will 
by  a  stubborn  silence.  "  The  people  crowd  to  look  upon  us,"  the  Duke 
noted  gloomily,  "but  not  one  calls  '  God  speed  ye.'"  The  Council  no 
sooner  saw  the  popular  reaction  than  they  proclaimed  Mary  Queen  ; 
the  fleet  and  the  levies  of  the  shires  declared  in  her  favour.  Northumber- 
land's courage  suddenly  gave  way,  and  his  retreat  to  Cambridge  was  the 
signal  for  a  general  defection.  The  Duke  himself  threw  his  cap  into  the 
nirand  shouted  with  his  men  for  Queen  Mary.  But  his  submission  failed 


7,62 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


to  avert  his  doom  ;  and  the  death  of  Northumberland  drew  with  it  the 
imprisonment  in  the  Tower  of  the  hapless  girl  whom  he  had  made  the 
tool  of  his  ambition.  The  whole  system  which  had  been  pursued  during 
Edward's  reign  fell  with  a  sudden  crash.  London  indeed  retained  much 
of  its  Protestant  sympathy,  but  over  the  rest  of  the  country  the  tide  of 
reaction  swept  without  a  check.  The  married  priests  were  driven  from 
their  churches,  the  images  were  replaced.  In  many  parishes  the  new 
Prayer-book  was  set  aside  and  the  M^ss  restored.  The  Parliament 
which  met  in  October  annulled  the  laws  made  respecting  religion  during 
the  past  reign.  Gardiner  was  drawn  from  the  Tower.  Bonner  and  the 
deposed  bishops  were  restored  to  their  sees.  Ridley  with  the  others 
who  had  displaced  them  were  again  expelled,  and  Latimer  and  Cranmer 
were  spnt  to  the  Tower.  But  with  the  restoration  of  the  system  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  the  popular  impulse  was  satisfied.  The_  people  had 
no  more  sympathy  with  Mary's  leanings  towards  Rome  than  with  the 
violence  of  the  Protestants.  The  Parliament  was  with  difficulty  brought 
to  set  aside  the  new  Prayer-book,  and  clung  obstinately  to  the  Church- 
lands  and  to  the  Royal  Supremacy. 

Nor  was  England  more  favourable  to  the  marriage  on  which,  from 
motives  both  of  policy  and  religious  zeal,  Mary  had  set  her  heart.  The 
Emperor  had  ceased  to  be  the  object  of  hope  or  confidence  as  a 
mediator  who  would  at  once  purify  the  Church  from  abui>es  and  restore 
the  unity  of  Christendom :  he  had  ranged  himself  definitely  on  the 
side  of  the  Papacy  and  of  th^  Council  of  Trent ;  and  the  cruelties  of 
the  Inquisition  which  he  introduced  into  Flanders  gave  a  terrible  in- 
dication of  the  bigotry  which  he  was  to  bequeath  to  his  House.  The 
marriage  with  ho  son  Philip,  whose  hand  he  offered  to  his  cousin 
Mary,  meant  an  absolute  submission  to  the  Papacy,  and  the  undoing 
not  only  of  the  Protestant  reformation,  but  of  the  more  moderate 
reforms  of  the  New  Learning.  On  the  other  hand,  it  would  have  the 
political  advantage  of  securing  Mary's  throne  against  the  pretensions 
of  the  young  Queen  of  Scots,  Mary  Stuart,  who  had  become  formidable 
by  her  marriage  with  the  heir  of  the  French  Crown  ;  and  whose 
adherents  already  alleged  the  illegitimate  birth  of  both  Mar>'  and 
Elizabeth,  through  the  annulling  of  their  mothers'  marriages,  as  z 
ground  for  denying  their  right  of  succession.  To  the  issue  of  the 
marriage  he  proposed,  Charles  promised  the  heritage  of  the  Low 
Countries,  while  he  accepted  the  demand  made  by  Mary's  minister, 
Bishop  Gardiner  of  Winchester,  and  by  the  Council,  of  complete  inde- 
pendence both  of  policy  and  action  on  the  part  of  England,  in  case 
of  such  a  union.  The  temptation  was  great,  and  Mary's  resolution 
overleapt  all  obstacles.  But  in  spite  of  the  toleration  which  she  had 
promised,  and  had  as  yet  observed,  the  announcement  of  her  design 
drove  the  Protestants  into  a  panic  of  despair.  Risings  which  broke 
out  in  the  west  and  centre   of  the  country  were  quickly  put  down, 


VII.j 


THE  REFORMATION. 


363 


and  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  who  appeared  in  arms  at  Leicester,  was  sent 
to  the  Tower.  The  danger  was  far  more  formidable  when  the  dread 
that  Spaniards  were  coming  "  to  conquer  the  realm  "  roused  Kent  into 
revolt  under  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt.  The  ships  in  the  Thames  submitted 
to  be  seized  by  the  insurgents.  A  party  of  the  trainbands  of  London, 
who  marched  under  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  against  them,  deserted  to 
the  rebels  in  a  mass  with  shouts  of  "  A  Wyatt !  a  Wyatt !  we  are  all 
Englishmen  ! "  Had  the  insurgents  moved  quickly  on  the  capital,  its 
gates  would  at  once  have  been  flung  open  and  success  would  have 
been  assured.  But  in  the  critical  moment  Mary  was  saved  by  her 
queenly  courage.  Riding  boldly  to  the  Guildhall  she  appealed  with 
"  a  man's  voice "  to  the  loyalty  of  the  citizens,  and  when  Wyatt  ap- 
peared on  the  Southwark  bank  the  bridge  was  secured.  The  issue 
hung  on  the  question  which  side  London  would  take  ;  and  the  insur- 
gent leader  pushed  desperately  up  the  Thames,  seized  a  bridge  at 
Kingston,  threw  his  force  across  the  river,  and  marched  rapidly 
back  on  the  capital.  The  night  march  along  miry  roads  wearied  and 
disorganized  his  men,  the  bulk  of  whom  were  cut  off  from  their  leader 
by  a  royal  force  which  had  gathered  in  the  fields  at  what  is  now 
Hyde  Park  Corner,  but  Wyatt  himself,  with  a  handful  of  followers, 
pushed  desperately  on  to  Temple  Bar.  "  I  have  kept  touch,"  he 
cried  as  he  sank  exhausted  at  the  gate  ;  but  it  was  closed,  his  adherents 
within  were  powerless  to  effect  their  promised  diversion  in  his  favour, 
and  the  daring  leader  was  seized  and  sent  to  the  Tower. 

The  courage  of  the  Queen,  who  had  refused  to  fly  even  while  the 
rebels  were  marching  beneath  her  palace  walls,  was  only  equalled 
by  her  terrible  revenge.  Mie  hour  was  come  when  the  Protestants 
were  at  her  feet,  and  she  struck  without  mercy.  Lady' Jane,  her 
father,  her  husband,  and  her  uncle  atoned  for  the  ambition  of  the 
House  of  Suffolk  by  the  death  of  traitors.  Wyatt  and  his  chief  ad- 
herents followed  them  to  execution,  while  the  bodies  of  the  poorer 
insurgents  were  dangling  on  gibbets  round  London.  Elizabeth,  who  had 
<vitl  some  reason  been  suspected  of  complicity  in  the  insurrection,  was 
sent  to  the  Tower  ;  and  only  saved  from  death  by  the  interposition  of 
the  Council.  But  the  failure  of  the  revolt  not  only  crushed  the  Pro- 
testant party,  it  secured  the  marriage  on  which  Mary  was  resolved. 
She  used  it  to  wring  a  reluctant  consent  from  the  Parliament,  and 
meeting  Philip  at  Winchester  in  the  ensuing  summer  became  his  wife. 
The  temporizing  measures  to  which  the  Queen  had  been  forced  by  the 
earlier  difficulties  of  her  reign  couk'  now  be  laid  safely  aside.  Mary 
was  resolved  to  bring  about  a  submission  to  Rome  ;  and  her  minister 
Gardiner  fell  back  on  the  old  ecclesiastical  order,  as  the  moderate  party 
which  had  supported  the  policy  of  Henry  the  Eighth  saw  its  hopes  dis- 
appear, and  ranged  himself  definitely  on  th^  side  of  a  mity  which  could 
now  only  be  brought  about  by  a  reconciliation  with  the  Papacy.     The 


3^4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


Spanish  match  was  hardly  concluded,  when  the  negotiations  with  Rome 
were  brought  to  a  final  issue.  The  attainder  of  Regmald  Pole,  who 
had  been  appointed  by  the  Pope  to  receive  the  submission  of  the  realm, 
was  reversed  ;  and  the  Legate,  who  entered  London  by  the  river  with 
his  cross  gleaming  from  the  prow  of  his  barge,  was  solemnly  welcomed 
by  a  compliant  Parliament.  The  two  Houses  decided  by  a  formal  vote 
to  return  to  the  obedience  of  the  Papal  See,  and  received  on  their  knees 
the  absolution  which  freed  the  realm  from  the  guilt  incurred  by  its 
schism  and  heresy.  P>ut,  even  in  the  hour  of  her  triumph,  the  temper 
both  of  Parliament  and  the  nation  warned  the  Queen  of  the  failure  of 
her  hope  to  bind  England  to  a  purely  Catholic  policy.  The  growing 
independence  of  the  two  Houses  was  seen  in  their  r^ection  of  measure 
after  measure  proposed  by  the  Crown.  A  proposal  to  oust  Elizabeth 
from  the  line  of  succession  could  not  even  be  submitted  to  the  Houses, 
nor  could  their  assent  be  won  to  the  postponing  of  her  succession  to 
that  of  Philip.  Though  the  statutes  abolishing  Papal  jurisdiction  in 
England  were  repealed,  they  rejected  ali  proposals  for  the  restoration 
of  Church-lands  to  the  clergy.  A  proposal  to  renew  the  laws  against 
heresy  was  thrown  out  by  the  Lords,  even  after  the  failure  of  Wyatt's 
insurrection,  and  only  Philip's  influence  secured  the  re-enactment  of 
the  statute  of  Henry  the  Fifth  in  a  later  Parliament.  Nor  was  the 
temper  of  the  nation  at  large  less  decided.  The  sullen  discontent  of 
London  compelled  its  Bishop,  Bonner,  to  withdraw  the  inquisitorial 
articles  by  which  he  hoped  to  purge  his  diocese  of  heresy.  Even  the 
Council  was  divided  on  the  question  of  persecution,  and  in  the  very 
interests  of  Catholicism  the  Emperor  himself  counselled  prudence  and 
delay.  Philip  gave  the  same  counsel.  But  whether  from  without  or  from 
within,  warning  was  wasted  on  the  fierce  bigotry  of  the  Queen. 

It  was  a  moment  when  the  prospects  of  the  party  of  reform  seemed 
utterly  hopeless.  Spain  had  taken  openly  the  lead  in  the  great 
Catholic  movement,  and  England  was  being  dragged,  however  reluc- 
tantly, by  the  Spanish  marriage  into  the  current  of  reaction.  Its 
opponents  were  broken  by  the  failure  of  their  revolt,  and  unpopular 
through  the  memory  of  their  violence  and  greed.  Now  that  the  laws 
against  heresy  were  enacted,  Mary  pressed  for  their  execution  ;  and  in 
1555  the  opposition  of  her  councillors  was  at  last  mastered,  and  the 
work  of  death  began.  But  the  cause  which  prosperity  had  ruined 
revived  in  the  dark  hour  of  persecution.  If  the  Protestants  had  not 
known  how  to  govern,  they  knew  how  to  die.  The  story  of  Rowland 
Taylor,  the  Vicar  of  Hadleigh,  tells  us  more  of  the  work  which  was 
now  begun,  and  of  the  effect  it  was  likely  to  produce,  than  piges  of 
historic  dissertation.  Taylor,  who  as  a  man  of  mark  had  been  one  <»l 
the  first  victims  chosen  for  execution,  was  arrested  in  London,  and 
condemned  to  suffer  in  his  own  parish.  His  wife, "  suspecting  that  her 
husband  should  that  night  be  carried  away  "  had  waited  through  the 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


365 


darkness  with  her  children  in  the  porch  of  St.  Botolph's  beside  Aldgate. 
"  Now  when  the  sheriff  his  company  came  against  St.  Botolph's 
Church,  Elizabeth  cried,  saying, '  O  my  dear  father  !  Mother  !  mother  ! 
here  is  my  father  led  away  ! '  Then  cried  his  wife, '  Rowland,  Rowland, 
where  art  thou.?' — for  it  was  a  very  dark  morning,  that  the  one  could 
not  see  the  other.  Dr.  Taylor  answered,  *  I  am  here,  dear  wife,'  and 
stayed.  The  sheriff's  men  would  have  led  him  forth,  but  the  sheriff 
said,  '  Stay  a  little,  masters,  I  pray  you,  and  let  him  speak  to  his  wife.' 
Then  came  she  to  him,  and  he  took  his  daughter  Mary  in  his  arms,  and 
he  and  his  wife  and  Elizabeth  knelt  down  and  said  the  Lord's  j.rayer. 
At  which  sight  the  sheriff  wept  apace,  and  so  did  divers  others  of  the 
company.  After  they  had  prayed  he  rose  up  and  kissed  his  wife  and 
shoolc  her  by  the  hand,  and  said,  '  Farewell,'  my  dear  wife,  be  of  good 
comfort,  for  I  am  quiet  in  my  conscience  !  God  shall  still  be  a  father 
to  my  children.'  .  .  .  Then  said  his  wife,  '  God  be  with  thee,  dear 
Rowland  !  I  will,  with  God's  grace,  meet  thee  at  Hadleigh.'  ...  All 
the  way  Dr.  Taylor  was  merry  and  cheerful  as  one  that  accounted 
himself  going  to  a  most  pleasant  banquet  or  bridal.  .  .  .  Coming 
within  two  miles  of  Hadleigh  he  desired  to  light  off  his  horse,  which 
done  he  leaped  and  set  a  frisk  or  twain  as  men  commonly  do  for 
dancing.  '  Why,  master  Doctor,'  quoth  the  Sheriff,  '  how  do  you 
now.?'  He  answered,  'Well,  God  be  praised.  Master  Sheriff,  never 
better ;  for  now  I  know  I  am  almost  at  home.  I  lack  not  past  two 
stiles  to  go  over,  and  I  am  even  at  my  Father's  house  ! '  .  .  .  The 
streets  of  Hadleigh  were  beset  on  both  sides  with  men  and  women  of 
the  town  and  country  who  waited  to  see  him  ;  whom  when  they  beheld 
so  led  to  death,  with  weeping  eyes  and  lamentable  voices,  they  cried, 
*Ah,  good  Lord!  there  goeth  our  good  shepherd  from  us  ! '"  The  journey 
was  at  last  over.  " '  What  place  is  this,'  he  asked, '  and  what  meaneth  it 
that  so  much  people  are  gathered  tog^ether?'  It  was  answered,  '  It  is 
Oldham  Common,  the  place  where  you  must  suffer,  and  the  people  are 
come  to  look  upon  you.'  Then  said  he,  '  Thanked  be  God,  I  am  even 
at  home  !'....  But  when  the  people  saw  his  reverend  and  ancient 
face,  with  a  long  white  beard,  they  bur.st  out  with  weeping  tears  and 
cried,  saying,  '  God  save  thee,  good  Dr.  Taylor  ;  God  strengthen  thee 
and  help  thee  ;  the  Holy  Ghost  comfort  thee  ! '  He  wished,  but  was 
not  suffered,  to  speak.  When  he  had  prayed,  he  went  to  the  stake  and 
kissed  it,  and  set  himself  into  a  pitch-barrel  which  they  had  set  for 
him  to  stand  on,  and  so  stood  with  his  back  upright  against  the  stake, 
with  his  hands  folded  together  and  his  eyes  towards  heaven,  and  so 
let  himself  be  burned."  One  of  the  executioners  "  cruelly  cast  a  fagot 
at  him,  which  hit  upon  his  head  and  brake  his  face  that  the  blood  ran 
down  his  visage.  Then  said  Dr.  Taylor, '  O  friend,  I  have  harm  enough 
— what  needed  that  ?' "  One  more  act  of  brutality  brought  his  sufferings 
to  an  end. — "  So  stood  he  still  without  either  crying  or  moving,  with  his 


366 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


rCHAP. 


hands  folded  together,  till  Soyce  with  a  halberd  struck  him  on  the  head 
that  the  brains  fell  out,  and  the  dead  corpse  fell  down  into  the  fire," 

The  terror  of  death  was  powerless  against  men  like  these.  Bonner, 
the  Bishop  of  London,  to  whom,  as  Bishop  of  the  diocese  in  which  the 
Council  sate,  its  victims  were  generally  delivered  for  execution,  but 
who,  in  spite  of  the  nickname  and  hatred  which  his  official  prominence 
in  the  work  of  d:ath  earned  him,  seems  to  have  been  naturally  a  good- 
humoured  and  merciful  man,  asked  a  youth  who  was  brought  before 
him  whether  he  thought  he  could  bear  the  fire.  The  boy  at  once  held 
his  hand  without  flinching  in  the  flame  of  a  candle  which  stood  by. 
Rogers,  a  fellow-worker  with  Tyndale  in  the  translation  of  the  Bible, 
and  one  of  the  foremost  among  the  Protestant  preachers,  died  bathing 
his  hands  in  the  flame  "  as  if  it  had  been  in  cold  water."  Even  the 
commonest  lives  gleamed  for  a  moment  into  poetry  at  the  stake. 
"  Pray  for  me,"  a  boy,  William  Hunter,  who  had  been  brought  home 
to  Brentwood  to  suffer,  asked  of  the  bystanders.  "  I  will  pray  no  more 
for  thee,"  one  of  them  replied,  "  than  I  will  pray  for  a  dog."  "  *  Then,' 
said  William,  *  Son  of  God,  shine  upon  me  ;'  and  immediately  the  sun 
in  the  elements  shone  out  of  a  dark  cloud  so  full  in  his  face  that  he 
was  constrained  to  look  another  way  ;  whereat  the  people  mused,  be- 
cause it  was  so  dark  a  little  time  before."  The  persecution  fell  heavily 
on  London,  and  on  Kent,  Sussex,  and  the  Eastern  Counties,  the  hemes 
of  the  mining  and  manufacturing  industries ;  a  host  of  Protestants 
were  driven  over  sea  to  find  refuge  at  Strasburg  or  Geneva.  But  the 
work  of  terror  failed  in  the  very  ends  for  which  it  was  wrought.  The 
old  spirit  of  insolent  defiance,  of  outrageous  violence,  was  roused  again 
at  the  challenge  of  persecution.  A  Protestant  hung  a  string  of  pud- 
dings round  a  priest's  neck  in  derision  of  his  beads.  The  restored 
images  were  grossly  insulted.  The  old  scurrilous  ballads  were  heard 
again  in  the  streets.  One  miserable  wretch,  driven  to  frenzy,  stabbed 
the  priest  of  St.  Margaret's  as  he  stood  with  the  chalice  in  his  hand. 
It  was  a  more  formidable  sign  of  the  times  that  acts  of  violence  such 
as  these  no  longer  stirred  the  people  at  large  to  their  former  resent- 
ment. The  horror  of  the  persecution  lefi  no  room  for  other  feelings. 
Every  death  at  the  stake  won  hundreds  to  the  cause  of  its  victims. 
"Vou  have  lost  the  hearts  of  twenty  thousands  that  were  rank 
Papibt3,"  a  Protestant  wrote  to  Bonner,  "within  these  twelve  months." 
Bonner  indeed,  never  a  very  zealous  persecutor,  was  sick  of  his  work  ; 
and  the  energy  of  the  bishops  soon  relaxed.  But  Mary  had  no  thought 
of  hesitation  in  the  course  she  had  begun.  "  Rattling  letters"  from 
the  council  roused  the  lagging  prelates  to  fresh  activity  and  the  mar- 
tyrdoms went  steadily  on.  Two  prelates  had  already  perished  ; 
Hooper,  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  had  been  burned  in  his  own  cathe- 
dral city  ;  Ferrar,  the  Bishop  of  St  David's,  had  suflcrcd  at  Caer 
marthen.      Latimer  and  Bishop  Ridley  of  London  were  now  drawn 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


367 


from  their  prison  at  Oxford.  ''  Play  the  man,  Master  Ridley,"  cried 
the  old  preacher  of  the  Reformation  as  the  flames  shot  up  around  him  ; 
"  we  shall  this  day  light  such  a  candle  by  God's  grace  in  England  as  I 
trust  shall  never  be  put  out."  C  ne  victim  remained,  far  beneath  many 
who  had  preceded  him  in  character,  but  high  above  them  in  his  posi- 
tion in  the  Church  of  England.  The  other  prelates  who  had  suffered 
had  been  created  after  the  separation  from  Rome,  and  were  hardly  re- 
garded as  bishops  by  their  opponents.  But,  whatever  had  been  his 
:art  in  the  schism,  Cranmer  had  received  his  Pallium  from  the  Pope. 
He  was,  in  the  eyes  of  all,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  successor 
of  St.  Augustine  and  of  St.  Thomas  in  the  second  see  of  Western 
Christendom.  To  burn  the  Primate  of  the  English  Church  for  heresy 
was  to  shut  out  meaner  victims  from  all  hope  of  escape.  But  revenge 
and  religious  zeal  alike  urged  Mary  to  bring  Cranmer  to  the  stake. 
First  among  the  many  decisions  in  which  the  Archbishop  had  prosti- 
tuted justice  to  Henry's  will  stood  that  by  which  he  had  annulled  the 
King's  marriage  with  Catharine  and  declared  Mary  a  bastard.  The 
last  of  his  pohtical  acts  had  been  to  join,  whether  reluctantly  or  no,  in 
the  shameless  plot  to  exclude  Mary  from  the  throne.  His  great  posi- 
tion too  made  him  more  than  i.  ly  man  the  representative  of  the  reli- 
gious revolution  which  had  passed  over  the  land.  His  figure  stood 
with  those  of  Henry  and  of  Cromwell  on  the  frontispiece  of  the 
English  Bible.  The  decisive  change  which  had  been  given  to  the 
character  of  the  Reformation  under  Edward  was  due  wholly  to 
Cranmer.  It  was  his  voice  that  men  heard  and  still  hear  in  the 
accents  of  the  Enghsh  Liturgy.  As  an  Archbishop,  Cranmer's  judg- 
ment rested  with  no  meaner  tribunal  than  that  of  Rome,  and  his 
execution  had  been  necessarily  delayed  till  its  sentence  could  be 
given.  But  the  courage  which  he  had  shown  since  the  accession  of 
Mary  gave  way  the  moment  his  final  doom  was  announced.  The 
moral  cowardice  which  had  displayed  itself  in  his  miserable  com- 
pliance with  the  lust  and  despotism  of  Henry  displayed  itself  again 
in  six  successive  recantations  by  which  he  hoped  to  purchase  pardon. 
But  pardon  was  impossible  ;  and  Cranmer's  strangely  mingled  nature 
found  a  power  in  its  very  weakness  when  he  was  brought  into  the 
church  of  St.  Mary  at  Oxford  to  repeat  his  recantation  on  the  way  to 
the  stake.  "  Now,"  ended  his  address  to  the  hushed  c  ngregation 
before  him,  "  now  I  come  to  the  great  thing  that  troubleth  my  con- 
science more  than  any  other  thing  that  ever  I  said  or  did  in  my  life, 
and  that  is  the  setting  abroad  of  writings  contrary  to  the  truth  ;  which 
here  I  now  renounce  and  refuse  as  things  written  by  my  hand  contrary 
to  the  truth  which  I  thought  in  my  heart,  and  written  for  fear  of 
death  to  save  my  life,  if  it  might  be.  And,  forasmuch  as  my  hand 
offended  in  writing  contrary  to  my  heart,  my  hand  therefore  shall 
be  the  first  punished  ;   for   if  I   come  to   the   fire,    it  shall    be  the 


368 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


first  burned."  "  This  was  the  hand  that  wrote  it,"  he  again  ex- 
claimed at  the  stake,  "  therefore  it  shall  suffer  first  punishment  ;  ** 
and  holding  it  steadily  in  the  flame  "  he  never  stirred  nor  cried"  till 
life  was  gone. 

It  was  with  the  unerring  instinct  of  a  popular  movement  that,  among 
a  crowd  of  far  more  heroic  sufferers,  the  Protestants  fixed,  in  spite  ol 
his  recantations,  on  the  martyrdom  of  Cranmer  as  the  death-blow  to 
Catholicism  in  England.  For  one  man  who  felt  within  him  the  joy  ol 
Rowland  Taslor  at  the  prospect  of  the  stake,  there  were  thousands 
who  felt  the  shuddering  dread  of  Cranmer.  The  triumphant  cry  oi 
Latimer  could  reach  only  hearts  as  bold  as  his  own ;  but  the  sad 
pathos  of  the  Primate's  humiliation  and  repentance  struck  chords  o* 
sympathy  and  pity  in  the  hearts  of  all.  It  is  from  that  moment  thai 
we  may  trace  the  bitter  remembrance  of  the  blood  shed  in  the  cause 
of  Rome  ;  which,  however  partial  and  unjust  it  must  seem  to  an  his- 
toric observer,  still  lies  graven  deep  in  the  temper  of  the  English  people. 
The  overthrow  of  his  projects  for  the  permanent  acquisition  of  England 
to  the  House  of  Austria  had  disenchanted  Philip  of  his  stay  yn  the 
realm  ;  and  on  the  disappearance  of  all  hope  of  a  child,  he  had  Jeft 
the  country  in  spite  of  Mary's  passionate  entreaties.  But  the  Queen 
struggled  desperately  on.  She  did  what  was  possible  to  satisfy  the 
unyielding  Pope.  In  the  face  of  the  Parliament's  significant  reluctance 
even  to  restore  the  first-fruits  to  the  Church,  she  refounded  all  she  could 
of  the  abbeys  which  had  been  suppressed  ;  the  greatest  of  these,  that  of 
Westminster,  was  re-established  in  1 5  56.  Above  all,  she  pressed  on  the 
work  of  persecution.  It  had  spread -now  from  bishops  and  priests  to  the 
people  itself.  The  sufferers  were  sent  in  batches  to  the  flames.  In  a 
single  day  thirteen  victims,  two  of  them  women,  were  burnt  at  Stratford- 
le-Bow.  Seventy-three  Protestants  of  Colchester  were  dragged  through 
the  streets  of  London,  tied  to  a  single  rope.  A  new  commission  for  the 
suppression  of  heresy  was  exempted  by  royal  authority  from  all  restric- 
tions of  law  which  fettered  its  activity.  The  Universities  were  visited  ; 
and  the  corpses  of  foreign  teachers  who  had  found  a  resting  place  there 
under  Edward  were  torn  from  their  graves  and  reduced  to  ashes.  The 
penalties  of  martial  law  were  threatened  against  the  possessors  of 
heretical  books  issued  from  Geneva  ;  the  treasonable  contents  of  which 
indeed,  and  their  constant  exhortations  to  rebellion  and  civil  war, 
justly  called  for  stern  repression.  But  the  work  of  terror  broke  down 
before  the  silent  revolt  of  the  whole  nation.  Open  sympathy  began  to 
be  shown  to  the  sufferers  for  conscience'  sake.  In  the  three  .ind  a 
half  years  of  the  persecution  nearly  three  hundred  victims  had  perished 
at  the  stake.  The  people  sickened  at  the  work  of  death.  The  crowd 
round  the  fire  at  Smithficld  shouted  "  Amen  "  to  the  prayer  of  seven 
martyrs  whom  Bonner  had  condemned,  and  prayed  with  them  thai 
God  would  strengthen  them.    A  genera)  discontent  was  roused  wnen,  in 


VII.J 


THE  REFORMATION. 


369 


spite  of  the  pledges  given  at  her  marriage,  Mary  dragged  England 
into  a  war  to  support  Philip — who  on  the  Emperor's  resignation  had 
succeeded  to  his  dominions  of  Spain,  Flanders,  and  the  New  World 
—in  a  struggle  against  France.  The  war  ended  in  disaster.  With 
characteristic  secrecy  and  energy,  the  Duke  of  Guise  flung  himself 
upon  Calais,  and  compelled  it  to  surrender  before  succour  could  arrive 
"  The  chief  jewel  of  the  realm,"  as  Mary  herself  called  it,  was  suddenly 
reft  away  ;  and  the  surrender  of  Guisnes,  which  soon  followed,  left 
England  without  a  foot  of  land  on  the  Continent.  Bitterly  as  the  blow 
was  felt,  the  Council,  though  passionately  pressed  by  the  Queen,  could 
find  neither  money  nor  men  for  any  attempt  to  recover  the  town.  The 
forced  loan  to  which  she  resorted  came  in  slowly.  The  levies  mutinied 
and  dispersed.  The  death  of  Mary  alone  averted  a  general  revolt,  and 
a  burst  of  enthusiastic  joy  hailed  the  accession  of  Elizabeth. 

Section  III.— Elizabeth.    1558— 1560. 

[Authorities. — Camden's  "Life  of  Elizabeth."  For  ecclesiastical  matters, 
Strype's  "Annals,"  his  lives  of  Parker,  Grindal,  and  Whitgift,  and  the 
"Zurich  Letters"  (Parker  Society),  are  important.  The  State  Papers  are 
being  calendared  for  the  Master  of  the  Rolls,  and  fresh  light  may  be  looked 
for  from  the  Cecil  Papers  and  the  documents  at  Simancas,  some  of  which  are 
embodied  in  Mr.  Froude's  "  History'"'  (vols,  vii.  to  xii.).  We  have  also  the 
Burleigh  Papers,  the  Sidney  Papers,  the  Sadler  State  Papers,  the  Hardwicke 
State  Papers,  letters  published,  by  Mr.  Wright  in  his  "  Elizabeth  and  her 
Times,"  the  collections  of  Murdin,  the  Egerton  Papers,  the  "  Letters  of 
Elizabeth  and  James  VL,"  publishe< I  by  Mr.  Bruce.  The  "  Papiers  d'Etat  " 
of  Cardinal  Granvelle  and  the  French  despatches  published  by  M.  Teulet  are 
valuable.] 

Never  had  the  fortunes  of  England  sunk  to  a  lower  ebb  than  at  the 
moment  when  Elizabeth  mounted  the  throne.  The  country  was 
humiliated  by  defeat  and  brought  to  the  verge  of  rebellion  by  the 
bloodshed  and  misgovernment  of  Mary's  reign.  The  old  social  dis- 
content, trampled  down  for  a  time  by  the  horsemen  of  Somerset, 
remained  a  menace  to  public  order.  The  religious  strife  had  passed 
beyond  hope  of  reconciliation,  now  that  the  reformers  were  parted 
from  their  opponents  by  the  fires  of  Smithfield  and  the  party  of  the 
New  Learning  all  but  dissolved.  The  more  earnest  Catholics  were 
bound  helplessly  to  Rome.  The  temper  of  the  Protestants,  burned  at 
home  or  driven  into  exile  abroad,  had  become  a  fiercer  thing,  and  the 
Calvinistic  refugees  were  pouring  back  from  Geneva  with  dreams  of 
revolutionary  change  in  Church  and  State.  England,  dragged  at  the 
heels  of  l-'hilip  into  a  useless  and  ruinous  war,  was  left  without  an  ally 
save  Spain  ;  while  France,  mistress  of  Calais,  became  mistress  of  the 
Channel.  Not  only  was  Scotland  a  standing  danger  in  the  north, 
through  the  French  marriage  of  its  Queen  Mary  Stuart  and  its  conse- 
quent bondage  to  French  policy  ;  but  Mary  Stuart  and  her  husband 


370 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CKAP. 


now  assumed  the  style  and  arms  of  English  sovereigns,  and  threatened 
to  rouse  every  Catholic  throughout  the  realm  against  Elizabeth's  title 
In  presence  of  this  host  of  dangers  the  country  lay  helpless,  withouv 
army  or  fleet,  or  the  means  of  manning  one,  for  the  treasury,  already 
drained  by  the  waste  of  Edward's  reign,  had  been  utterly  exhausted 
by  Mary's  restoration  of  the  Church-lands  in  possession  of  the  Crown, 
and  by  the  cost  of  her  war  with  France. 

England's  one  hope  lay  in  the  character  of  her  Queen.  Elizabeth 
was  now  in  her  twenty-fifth  year.  Personally  she  had  more  than  her 
mother's  beauty  ;  her  figure  was  commanding,  her  face  long  but 
queenly  and  intelligent,  her  eyes  quick  and  fine.  She  had  grown  up 
amidst  the  liberal  culture  of  Henry's  court  a  bold  horsewoman,  a 
good  shot,  a  graceful  dancer,  a  skilled  musician,  and  an  accomplished 
scholar.  She  studied  every  morning  the  Greek  Testament,  and  fol- 
lowed this  by  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles  or  orations  of  Demosthenes, 
and  could  "  rub  up  her  rusty  Greek  "  at  need  to  bandy  pedantry  with 
a  Vice-Chancellor.  But  she  was  far  from  being  a  mere  pedant.  The 
new  Hterature  which  was  springing  up  around  her  found  constant 
welcome  in  her  court.  She  spoke  Italian  and  French  as  fluently  as  her 
mother-tongue.  She  was  familiar  with  Ariosto  and  Tasso.  Even 
amidst  the  affectation  and  love  of  anagrams  and  puerilities  which 
sullied  her  later  years,  she  listened  with  delight  to  the"  Faery  Queen," 
and  found  a  smile  for  "  Master  Spenser"  when  he  appeared  in  her 
presence.  Her  moral  temper  recalled  in  its  strange  contrasts  the  mixed 
blood  within  her  veins.  She  was  at  once  the  daughter  of  Henry  and 
of  Anne  Boleyn.  From  her  father  she  inherited  her  frank  and  hearty 
address,  her  love  of  popularity  and  of  free  intercourse  with  the  people, 
her  dauntless  courage  and  her  amazing  self-confidence.  Her  harsh, 
manlike  voice,  her  impetuous  will,  her  pride,  her  furious  outbursts  of 
anger  came  to  her  with  her  Tudor  blood.  She  rated  great  nobles  as  if 
they  were  schoolboys  ;  she  met  the  insolence  of  Essex  with  a  box  on 
the  ear  ;  she  would  break  now  and  then  into  the  gravest  deliberations 
to  swear  at  her,  ministers  like  a  fishwife.  But  strangely  in  contrast 
with  the  violent  outlines  of  her  Tudor  temper  stood  the  sensuous,  self- 
indulgent  nature  she  derived  from  Anne  Boleyn.  Splendour  and 
pleasure  were  with  Elizabeth  the  very  air  she  breathed.  Her  delight 
was  to  move  in  perpetual  progresses  from  castle  to  castle  through  a 
series  of  gorgeous  pageants,  fanciful  and  extravagant  as  a  caliph's 
dream.  She  loved  gaiety  and  laughter  and  wit.  A  happy  retort  or  a 
finished  compliment  never  failed  to  win  her  favour.  She  hoarded 
jewels.  Her  dresses  were  innumerable.  Her  vanity  remained,  even 
to  old  age,  the  vanity  of  a  coquette  in  her  teens.  No  adulation  was 
too  fulsome  for  her,  no  flattery  of  her  beauty  too  gross.  "  To  see  her 
was  heaven,"  Hatton  t«(i  her,  "  the  lack  of  her  was  hell."  She  would 
play  with  her  rings  that  her  courtiers  might  note  the  delicacy  of  her 


vrr.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


371 


hands  ;  or  dance  a  coranto  that  the  French  ambassador,  hidden  dex- 
terously behind  a  curtain,  might  report  her  sprightliness  to  his  master. 
Her  levity,  her  frivolous  laughter,  her  unwomanly  jests  gave  colour  to 
a  thousand  scandals.  Her  character  in  fact,  like  her  portraits,  was 
utterly  without  shade.  Of  womanly  reserve  or  self-restraint  she  knew 
nothing.  No  instinct  of  delicacy  veiled  the  voluptuous  temper  which 
had  broken  out  in  the  romps  of  her  girlhood  and  showed  itself  almost 
ostentatiously  throughout  her  later  life.  Personal  beauty  in  a  man  was 
a  sure  passport  to  her  liking.  She  patted  handsome  young  squires  on 
the  neck  when  they  knelt  to  kiss  her  hand,  and  fondled  her  "  sweet 
Robin,"  Lord  Leicester,  in  the  face  of  the  court. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  the  statesmen  whom  she  outwitted  held 
Elizabeth  almost  to  the  last  to  be  little  more  than  a  frivolous  woman, 
or  that  Philip  of  Spain  wondered  how  "a  wanton"  could  hold  in 
check  the  policy  of  the  Escurial.  But  the  Elizabeth  whom  they  saw 
was  far  from  being  all  of  Elizabeth.  The  wilfulness  of  Henry,  the 
triviality  of  Anne  Boleyn  played  over  the  surface  of  a  nature  hard 
as  steel,  a  temper  purely  intellectual,  the  very  type  of  reason  un- 
touched by  imagination  or  passion.  Luxurious  and  pleasure-loving 
as  she  seemed,  Elizabeth  lived  simply  and  frugally,  and  she  worked 
hard.  Her  vanity  and  caprice  had  no  weight  whatever  with  her  in 
state  affairs.  The  coquette  of  the  presence-chamber  becan-.e  the 
coolest  and  hardest  of  politicians  at  the  council-board.  Fresh  from 
the  flattery  of  her  courtiers,  she  would  tolerate  no  flattery  in  the  closet ; 
she  was  herself  plain  and  downright  of  speech  with  her  counsellors, 
and  she  looked  for  a  corresponding  plainness  of  speech  in  return.  If 
any  trace  of  her  sex  lingered  in  her  actual  statesmanship,  it  was  seen  in 
the  simplicity  and  tenacity  of  purpose  that  often  underlies  a  woman's 
fluctuations  of  feeling.  It  was  this  in  part  which  gave  her  her  marked 
superiority  over  the  statesmen  of  her  time.  No  nobler  group  of 
ministers  ever  gathered  round  a  council-board  than  those  who 
gathered  round  the  council-board  of  Elizabeth.  But  she  was  the  in- 
strument of  none.  She  listened,  she  weighed,  she  used  or  put  by  the 
counsels  of  each  in  turn,  but  her  policy  as  a  whole  was  her  own.  It 
was  a  policy,  not  of  g^enius,  but  of  good_^seAlse,  J^Her  aims^wer.e^^^^ 
and  obvious  :  to  preserve  herTRfone^  to  keep  England  out  of  war,  to 
restore  civil  aMreli^iotts- order: I'Sornething  of  womanly  caution  and 
timidity  perhaps  backed  the  passionless  indifterence  with  which  she  set 
aside  the  larger  schemes  of  ambition  which  were  ever  opening  before 
her  eyes.  She  was  resolute  in  her  refusal  of  the  Low  Countries.  She 
rejected  with  a  laugh  the  offers  of  the  Protestants  to  make  her  "  head 
of  the  religion"  and  "mistress  of  the  seas."  But  her  amazing  success 
in  the  end  sprang  mainly  from  this  wise  limitation  of  her  aims.  She 
had  a  finer  sense  than  any  of  her  counsellors  of  her  real  resources  ; 
she  knew  instinctively  how  far  she  could  go,  and  what  she  could  do. 


372 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Her  cold,  critical  intellect  was  never  swayed  by  enthusiasm  or  by 
panic  either  to  exaggerate  or  to  under-estimate  her  risks  or  her  power. 
Of  political  wisdom  indeed  in  its  larger  and  more  generous  sense 
Elizabeth  had  little  or  none ;  but  her  political  tact  was  unerring.  She 
seldom  saw  her  course  at  a  glance,  but  she  played  with  a  hundred 
courses,  fitfully  and  discursively,  as  a  musician  runs  his  fingers  over 
the  key-board,till  she  hit  suddenly  upon  the  right  one.  Her  nature 
was  essentially  practical  and  of  the  present.  She  distrusted  a  plan 
in  fact  just  in  proportion  to  its  speculative  range  or  its  out-look  into 
the  future.  Her  notion  of  statesmanship  lay  in  watching  how  things 
turned  out  around  her,  and  in  seizing  the  moment  for  making  the  best 
of  them.  A  policy  of  this  limited,  practical,  tentative  order  was  not 
only  best  suited  to  the  England  of  her  day,  to  its  small  resources  and 
the  transitional  character  of  its  religious  and  political  belief,  but  it  was 
one  eminently  suited  to  Elizabeth's  peculiar  powers.  It  was  a  policy 
of  detail,  and  in  details  her  wonderful  readiness  and  ingenuity  found 
scope  for  their  exercise.  "  No  War,  my  Lords,"  the  Queen  used  to 
cry  imperiously  at  the  council-board,  "No  War!"  but  her  hatred  of 
war  sprang  less  from  her  aversion  to  blood  or  to  expense,  real  as  was 
her  aversion  to  both,  than  from  the  fact  that  peace  left  the  field  open 
to  the  diplomatic  manoeuvres  and  intrigues  in  which  she  excelled. 
Her  delight  in  the  consciousness  of  her  ingenuity  broke  out  in  a 
thousand  puckish  freaks,  freaks  in  which  one  can  hardly  see  any 
purpose  beyond  the  purpose  of  sheer  mystification.  She  revelled  in 
"  bye-ways  "  and  "  crooked  ways."  She  played  with  grave  cabinets  as 
a  cat  plays  with  a  mouse,  and  with  much  of  the  same  feline  delight  in 
the  mere  embarrassment  of  her  victims.  When  she  was  weary  of  mys- 
tifying foreign  statesmen  she  turned  to  find  fresh  sport  in  mystifying 
her  own  ministers.  Had  Elizabeth  written  the  story  of  her  reign  she 
would  have  prided  herself,  not  on  the  triumph  of  England  or  the  ruin 
of  Spain,  but  on  the  skill  with  which  she  had  hoodwinked  and  out- 
witted every  statesman  in  Europe,  during  fifty  years.  Nor  was  her 
trickery  without  political  value.  Ignoble,  inexpressibly  wearisome  as 
the  Queen's  diplomacy  seems  to  us  now,  tracing  it  as  we  do  through 
a  thousand  despatches,  it  succeeded  in  its  main  end.  It  gained  time, 
and  every  year  that  was  gained  doubled  Elizabeth's  strength.  Nothing 
is  more  revolting  in  the  Queen,  but  nothing  is  more  characteristic,  than 
her  shameless  mendacity.  It  was  an  age  of  political  lying,  but  in  the 
profusion  and  recklessness  of  her  lies  Elizabeth  stood  without  a  peer 
in  Christendom.  A  falsehood  was  to  her  simply  an  intellectual  means 
of  meeting  a  difficulty;  and  theeasewith  which  she  asserted  or  denied 
whatever  suited  her  purpose  was  only  equalled  by  the  cynical  indif- 
ference with  which  she  met  the  exposure  of  her  lies  as  soon  as  their 
purpose  was  answered.  The  same  purely  intellectual  view  of  thing? 
showed  itself  in  the  dexterous  use  she  made  of  her  very  faults.     Hei 


VH.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


373 


levity  carried  her  gaily  over  moments  of  detection  and  embarrassment 
where  better  women  would  have  died  of  shame.  She  screened  her 
tentative  and  hesitating  statesmanship  under  the  natural  timidity  and 
vacillation  of  her  sex.  She  turned  her  very  luxury  and  sports  to 
good  account.  There  were  moments  ^^  grave  danger  in  her  reign 
when  the  country  remained  indifferent  to  its  perils,  as  it  saw  the 
Queen  give  her  days  to  hawking  and  hunting,  and  her  nights  to 
dancing  and  plays.  Her  vanity  and  affectation,  h^.r  womanly  fickle- 
ness and  caprice,  all  had  their  part  in  thj  diplomatic  comedies  she 
played  with  the  successive  candidates  for  her  hand.  If  political  neces- 
sities made  her  life  a  lonely  one,  she  had  at  any  rate  the  satisfaction 
of  averting  war  and  conspiracic3  by  love  sonnets  and  romantic  inter- 
views, or  of  gaining  a  year  of  tranquillity  by  the  dexterous  spinning 
out  of  a  flirtation.  V- 

As  we  track  Elizabeth  through  her  tortuous  mazes  of  lying  and  in- 
trigue, the  sense  of  her  greatness  is  almost  lost  in  a  sense  of  contempt. 
But  wrapped  as  they  were  in  a  cloud  of  mystery,  the  aims  of  her  policy 
were  throughout  temperate  and  simple,  and  they  were  pursued  with  a 
cingular  tenacity.  The  sudden  acts  of  energy  which  from  time  to  time 
broke  her  ha)  itual  i.-sitation  proved  that  it  was  no  hesitation  of  weak- 
ness. Elizabeth  could  wait  and  finesse  ;  but  when  the  hour  was  come 
she  could  strike,  and  strike  hard.  Her  natural  temper  indeed  tended 
to  a  rash  self-confidence  rather  than  to  self-distrust.  She  had,  as 
strong  natures  always  have,  an  unbounded  confidence  in  her  luck. 
"  Her  Majesty  counts  much  on  Fortune."  Walsingham  wrote  bitterly  ; 
"  I  wish  she  would  trust  more  in  Almighty  God."  The  diplomatists 
who  censured  at  one  moment  her  irresolution,  her  delay,  her  changes 
of  front,  censure  at  the  next  her  "  obstinacy,"  her  iron  will,  her  defiance 
of  what  seemed  to  them  inevitable  ruin.  "  This  woman,  Philip's  envoy 
wrote  after  a  wasted  remonstrance,  "  this  woman  is  possessed  by  a 
hundred  thousand  devils."  To  her  own  subjects,  indeed,  who  knew 
nothing  of  her  manoeuvres  and  retreats,  of  her  "bye-ways"  and 
"  crooked  ways,"  she  seemed  the  embodiment  of  dauntless  resolution. 
Brave  as  they  were,  the  men  who  swept  the  Spanish  Main  or  glided 
between  the  icebergs  of  Baffin's  Bay  never  doubted  that  the  palm  of 
bravery  lay  with  their  Queen.  Her  steadiness  and  courage  in  the  pur- 
suit of  her  aims  was  equalled  by  the  wisdom  with  which  she  chose  the 
men  to  accomplish  them.  She  had  a  quick  eye  fur  merit  of  any  sort, 
and  a  wonderful  power  of  enlisting  its  whole  energy  in  her  service. 
The  sagacity  which  chose  Cecil  and  Walsingham  was  just  as  unerring 
in  its  choice  of  the  meanest  of  her  agents.  Her  success  indeed  in 
securing  from  the  beginning  of  her  reign  to  its  end,  with  the  single  ex- 
ception of  Leicester,  precisely  the  right  men  for  the  work  she  set  them 
to  do  sprang  in  great  measure  from  the  noblest  characteristic  of  her 
intellect.      If  in  lofHness  of  aim  her  temper  fell  below  many  of  the 


374 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


tempers  of  her  time,  in  the  breadth  of  its  range,  in  the  universality  of 
its  sympathy  it  stood  far  above  them  all.  Elizabeth  could  talk  poetry 
with  Spenser  and  philosophy  with  Bruno  ;  she  could  discuss  Euphuism 
with  Lyly,  and  enjoy  the  chivalry  of  Essex  ;  she  could  turn  from  talk 
of  the  last  fashions  to  pore  with  Cecil  over  despatches  and  treasury 
books  ;  she  could  pass  from  tracking  traitors  with  Walsingham  to 
settle  points  of  doctrine  with  Parker,  or  to  calculate  with  Frobisher  the 
chances  of  a  north-west  passage  to  the  Indies.  The  versatility  and 
many-sidedness  of  her  mind  enabled  her  to  understand  every  phase  of 
the  intellectual  movement  of  her  day,  and  to  fix  by  a  sort  of  instinct  on 
its  higher  representatives.  But  the  greatness  of  the  Queen  rests  above 
all  on  her  power  over  her  people.  We  have  had  grander  and  nobler 
rulers,  but  none  so  popular  as  Eliz  ibeth.  The  passion  of  love,  of 
loyalty,  of  admiration  which  finds  its  most  perfect  expression  in  the 
"  Faery  Queen,"  throbbed  as  intensely  through  the  veins  of  her 
meanest  subjects.  To  England,  during  her  reign  of  half  a  century, 
she  was  a  virgin  and  a  Protestant  Queen  ;  and  her  immorality,  her 
absolute  want  of  religious  enthusiasm,  failed  utterly  to  blur  the  bright- 
ness of  the  national  ideal.  Her  worst  acts  broke  fruitlessly  against 
the  general  devotion.  A  Puritan,  whose  hand  she  cut  off  in  a  freak  of 
tyrannous  resentment,  waved  his  hat  with  the  hand  that  was  left,  and 
shouted  '*  God  save  Queen  Elizabeth  !  "  Of  her  faults,  indeed,  England 
beyond  the  circle  of  her  court  knew  little  or  nothmg.  The  shiftings  of 
her  diplomacy  were  never  seen  outside  the  royal  closet.  The  nation 
at  large  could  only  judge  her  foreign  policy  by  its  main  outlines,  by 
its  temperance  and  good  sense,  and  above  all  by  its  success.  But 
every  Englishman  was  able  to  judge  Elizabeth  in  her  rule  at  home,  in  her 
love  of  peace,  her  instinct  of  order,  ihe  firmness  and  moderation  of  her 
government,  the  judicious  spirit  of  conciliation  and  compromise  among 
warring  factions  which  gave  the  country  an  unexampled  tranquillity  at 
a  time  when  almost  every  other  country  in  Europe  was  torn  v/ith  civil 
war.  Every  sign  of  the  growing  prosperity,  the  sight  of  London  as  it 
became  the  mart  of  the  world,  of  stately  mansions  as  they  rose  on 
every  manor,  told,  and  justly  told,  in  Elizabeth's  favour.  In  one  act 
of  her  civil  administration  she  showed  the  boldness  and  originality 
of  a  great  ruler  ;  for  the  opening  of  her  reign  saw  her  face  the  social 
difficulty  which  had  so  long  impeded  English  progress,  by  the  issue 
of  a  commission  of  inquiry  which  ended  in  the  solution  of  the 
problem  by  the  system  of  poor-laws.  She  lent  a  ready  patronage  to 
the  new  commerce  ;  she  considered  its  extension  and  protection  as 
a  part  of  public  policy,  and  her  statue  in  the  centre  of  the  London 
Exchange  was  a  tribute  on  the  part  of  the  merchant  class  to  the 
interest  with  which  she  watched  and  shared  personally  in  its  enter- 
prises. Her  thrift  won  a  general  gratitude.  The  memories  of  the 
Terror  and  of  the  Martyrs  threw  into  bright  relief  the  aversion  from 


r.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


375 


bloodshed  which  was  conspicuous  in  her  earlier  reign,  and  never 
wholly  wanting  through  its  fiercer  close.  Above  all  there  was  a  general 
confidence  in  her  instinctive  knowledge  of  the  national  temper.  Her 
finger  was  always  on  the  public  pulse.  She  knew  exactly  when  she 
could  resist  the  feeling  of  her  people,  and  when  she  must  give  way 
before  the  new  sentiment  of  freedom  which  her  policy  unconsciously 
fostered.  But  when  she  retreated,  her  defeat  had  all  the  grace  of 
victory ;  and  the  frankness  and  unreserve  of  her  surrender  won 
back  at  once  the  love  that  her  resistance  had  lost.  Her  attitude  at 
home  in  fact  was  that  of  a  woman  whose  pride  in  the  well-being  of  her 
subjects,  and  whose  longing  for  their  favour,  was  the  one  warm  touch 
in  the  coldness  of  her  natural  temper.  If  Elizabeth  could  be  said 
to  love  anything,  she  loved  England.  "  Notliing,"  she  said  to  her 
first  Parliament  in  words  of  unwonted  fire,  "  noth^g,  no  worldly  thing 
under  the  sun,  is  so  dear  to  me  as  the  love  arki  good-will  of  my 
subjects."  And  the  love  and  good-will  which  were  so  dear  to  her  she 
fully  won. 

She  clung  perhaps  to  her  popularity  the  more  passionately  that  it 
hid  in  some  measure  from  her  the  terrible  loneliness  of  her  life.  She 
was  the  last  of  the  Tudors,  the  last  of  Henry's  children  ;  and  her 
nearest  relatives  were  Mary  Stuart  and  the  House  of  Suffolk,  one  the 
avowed,  the  other  the  secret  claimant  of  her  throne.  Among  her 
mother's  kindred  she  found  but  a  single  cousin.  Whatever  womanly 
tenderness  she  had,  wrapt  itself  around  Leicester  ;  but  a  marriage  with 
Leicester  was  impossible,  and  every  other  union,  could  she  even  have 
bent  to  one,  was  denied  to  her  by  the  political  difficulties  of  her 
position.  The  one  cry  of  bitterness  which  burst  from  Elizabeth 
revealed  her  terrible  sense  of  the  solitude  of  her  life.  "The  Queen 
of  Scots,"  she  cried  at  the  birth  of  James,  "has  a  fair  son,  and  I  am 
but  a  barren  stock."  But  the  loneliness  of  her  position  only  reflected 
the  loneliness  of  her  nature.  She  stood  utterly  apart  from  the  world 
around  her,  sometimes  above  ir,  sometimes  below  it,  but  never  of  it. 
It  was  only  on  its  intellectual  side  that  Elizabeth  touched  the 
England  of  her  day.  All  its  moral  aspects  were  simply  dead  to  her. 
It  was  a  time  when  men  were  being  lifted  into  nobleness  by  the  new 
moral  energy  which  seemed  suddenly  to  pulse  through  the  whole 
people,  when  honour  and  enthusiasm  took  colours  of  poetic  beauty,  and 
religion  became  a  chivalry.  But  the  finer  sentiments  of  the  men  around 
her  touched  Elizabeth  simply  as  the  fair  tints  of  a  picture  would  have 
touched  her.  She  made  her  market  with  equal  indifference  out  of  the 
heroism  of  William  of  Orange  or  the  bigotry  of  Philip.  The  noblest 
aims  and  lives  were  only  counters  on  her  board.  She  was  the  one 
soul  in  her  realm  whom  the  news  of  St.  Bartholomew  stirred  to  no 
thirst  for  vengeance  ;  and  while  England  was  thrilling  with  its  triumph 
over  the  Armada,  its  Queen  was  coolly  grumbhng  over  the  ^ost,  and 


J70 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAV. 


Sec   III. 

Elizabeth 
1558 

TO 

1560 


Elizabeth 
and  the 
Church 


making  her  profit  out  of  the  spoiled  provisions  she  had  ordered  for  the 
fleet  that  saved  her.  To  the  voice  of  gratitude,  indeed,  she  was  for  the 
most  part  deaf.  She  accepted  services  such  as  were  never  rendered  to 
any  other  English  sovereign  without  a  thought  of  return.  Walsingham 
spent  his  fortune  in  saving  her  life  and  her  throne,  and  she  left  him  to 
die  a  beggar.  But,  as  if  by  a  strange  irony,  it  was  to  this  very  want  of 
sympathy  that  she  owed  so  ne  of  the  grander  features  of  her  character. 
If  she  was  without  love  she  was  without  hate.  She  cherished  no  petty 
resentments  ;  she  never  stooped  to  envy  or  suspicion  of  the  men  who 
served  her.  She  was  indifferent  to  abuse.  Her  good-humour  was  never 
ruffled  by  the  charges  of  wantonness  an.  cruelty  with  which  the  Jesuits 
filled  every  Court  in  Europe.  She  was  insensible  to  fear.  Her  life  became 
at  last  the  mark  for  assassin  after  assassin,  but  the  thought  of  peril  was 
the  one  hardest  to  bring  home  to  her.  Even  when  the  Catholic  plots 
broke  out  in  her  very  household  she  would  listen  to  no  proposals  for  the 
removal  of  Catholics  from  her  court. 

It  was  this  moral  isolation  which  told  so  strangely  both  for  good  and 
for  evil  on  her  policy  towards  the  Church.  The  young  Queen  was  not 
without  a  sense  of  religion.  But  she  was  almost  wholly  destitute  of 
spiritual  emotion,  or  of  any  consciousness  of  the  vast  questions  with 
which  theology  strove  to  deal.  While  the  world  around  her  was  being 
swayed  more  and  more  by  theological  beliefs  and  controversies,  Eliza- 
beth was  absolutely  untouched  by  them.  She  was  a  child  of  the  Italian 
l^enascence  rather  than  of  the  New  Learning  of  Colet  or  Erasmus,  and 
her  attitude  towards  the  enthusiasm  of  her  time  was  that  of  Lorenzo  de' 
Medici  towards  Savonarola.  Her  mind  was  unruffled  by  the  spiritual 
problems  which  were  vexing  the  minds  around  her;  to  Elizabeth  indeed 
they  were  not  only  unintelligible,  they  were  a  little  ridiculous.  She  had 
the  same  intellectual  contempt  for  the  superstition  of  the  Romanist  as 
for  the  bigotry  of  the  Protestant.  While  she  ordered  Catholic  images 
to  be  flung  into  the  fire,  she  quizzed  the  Puritans  as  "brethren  in  Christ." 
But  she  had  no  sort  of  religious  aversion  fro  n  either  Puritan  or  Papist. 
The  Protestants  grumbled  at  the  Catholic  nobles  whom  she  admitted 
to  the  presence.  The  Catholics  grumbled  at  the  Protestant  statesmen 
whom  she  called  to  her  council-board.  But  to  Elizabeth  the  arrange- 
ment was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  She  looked  at  theo- 
logical differences  in  a  purely  political  light.  She  agreed  with  Henry 
the  Fourth  that  a  kingdom  was  well  worth  a  mass.  It  seemed  an 
obvious  thing  to  her  to  hold  out  hopes  of  conversion  as  a  means  of 
deceiving  Philip,  or  to  gain  a  point  in  negotiation  by  restoring  the 
crucifix  to  her  chapel.  The  first  interest  in  her  own  mind  was  the 
interest  of  public  order,  and  she  never  could  understand  how  it  could 
fail  to  be  first  in  every  one's  mind.  Her  ingenuity  set  itself  to  con- 
struct a  system  in  which  ecclesiastical  unity  should  not  jar  against 
the  rights  of  conscience ;  a  compromise  which  merely  required  outer 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


377 


"conformity"  to  the  established  worship  while,  as  she  was  never  weary 
of  repeating,  it  "  left  opinion  free."  She  fell  back  from  the  very  first  on 
the  system  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  "  I  will  do,"  she  told  the  Spanish 
ambassador,  "as  my  father  did."  She  opened  negotiations  with  the 
Papal  See,  till  the  Pope's  summons  to  submit  her  claim  of  suc:ession 
to  the  judgment  of  Rome  made  compromise  impossible.  The  first 
work  of  her  Parliament  was  to  declare  her  legitimacy  and  title  to  the 
crown,  to  restore  the  royal  supremacy,  and  to  abjure  all  foreign  authority 
and  jurisdiction.  At  her  entry  into  London  Elizabeth  kissed  the 
EngHsh  Bible  which  the  citizens  presented  to  her  and  promised 
"diligently  to  read  therein."  Further  she  had  no  personal  wish  to  go. 
A  third  of  the  Council  and  at  least  two-thirds  of  the  people  were  as 
opposed  to  any  radical  changes  in  religion  as  the  Queen.  Among  the 
gentry  the  older  and  wealthier  were  on  the  conservative  side,  and 
only  the  younger  and  meaner  on  the  other.  But  it  was  soon  necessary 
to  go  further.  If  the  Protestants  were  the  less  numerous,  they  were 
the  abler  and  the  more  vigorous  party  ;  and  the  exiles  who  returned 
from  Geneva  brought  with  them  a  fiercer  hatred  of  Catholicism.  To 
every  Protestant  the  Mass  was  identified  with  the  fires  of  Smithfield, 
while  Edward's  Prayer-book  was  hallowed  by  the  memories  of  the 
Martyrs.  But  if  Elizabeth  won  the  Protestants  by  an  Act  of  Uni- 
formity which  restored  the  English  Prayer-book  and  enforced  its  use 
on  the  clergy  on  pain  of  deprivation,  the  alterations  she  made 
in  its  language  showed  her  wish  to  conjiliate  the  Catholics  as  far  as 
possible.  She  had  no  mind  merely  to  restore  the  system  of  the  Pro- 
tectorate. She  dropped  the  words  "  Head  of  the  Church "  from  the 
royal  title.  The  forty-two  Articles  wnich  Lranmer  had  drawn  up  were 
left  in  abeyance.  If  Elizabeth  had  had  her  will,  she  would  have 
retained  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  and  restored  the  use  of  crucifixes  in 
the  churches.  In  part  indeed  of  her  effort  she  was  foiled  by  the 
increased  bitterness  of  the  reformers.  The  London  mob  tore  down  the 
crosses  in  the  streets.  Her  attempt  to  retain  the  crucifix  or  enforce  the 
celibacy  of  the  priesthood  fell  dead  before  the  opposition  of  the  Pro- 
testant clergy.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Marian  bishops,  with  a  single 
exception,  discerned  the  Protestant  drift  of  the  changes  she  was  making, 
and  bore  imprisonment  and  deprivation  rather  than  accept  the  oath 
required  by  the  Act  of  Supremacy.  But  to  the  mass  of  the  nation  the 
compromise  of  Elizabeth  seems  to  have  been  fairly  acceptable.  The 
bulk  of  the  clergy,  if  they  did  not  take  the  oath,  practically  submitted 
to  the  Act  of  Supremacy  and  adopted  the  Prayer-book.  (  f  the  few  who 
openly  refused  only  two  hundred  were  deprived,  and  many  went 
unharmed.  No  marked  repugnance  to  the  new  worship  was  shown  by 
the  people  at  large  ;  and  Elizabeth  was  able  to  turn  from  questions  of 
belief  to  the  question  of  order. 

She  found  in  Matthew  Parker,  whom  Pole's  death  enabled  her  to 


37» 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


raise  to  the  see  of  Canterbury,  an  agent  in  the  reorganization  of  the 
Church  whose  patience  and  moderation  were  akin  to  her  own.  Theo- 
logically the  Primate  was  a  moderate  man,  but  he  was  resolute  to 
restore  order  in  the  discipline  and  worship  of  the  Church.  The  whole 
machinery  of  English  religion  had  been  thrown  out  of  gear  by  the 
rapid  and  radical  changes  of  the  past  two  reigns.  The  majority  of  the 
parish  priests  were  still  Catholic  in  heart ;  sometimes  mass  was  cele- 
brated at  the  parsonage  for  the  more  rigid  Catholics,  and  the  new 
communion  in  church  for  the  more  rigid  Protestants.  Sometimes 
both  parties  knelt  together  at  the  same  altar-rails,  the  one  to  receive 
hosts  consecrated  by  the  priest  at  home  after  the  old  usage,  the  other 
wafers  consecrated  in  Church  after  the  new.  In  many  parishes  of  the 
north  no  change  of  service  was  made  at  all.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
new  Protestant  clergy  were  often  unpopular,  and  roused  the  disgust  of 
the  people  by  their  violence  and  greed.  Chapters  plundered  their  own 
estates  by  leases  and  fines  and  by  felling  timber.  The  marriages  of 
the  clergy  became  a  scandal,  which  was  increased  when  the  gorgeous 
vestments  of  the  old  worship  were  cut  up  into  gowns  and  bodices  for 
the  priests'  wives.  The  new  services  sometimes  turned  into  scenes  of 
utter  disorder  where  the  clergy  wore  what  dress  they  pleased  and  the 
communicant  stood  or  sate  as  he  liked  ;  while  the  old  altars  were 
broken  down  and  the  communion-table  was  often  a  bare  board  upon 
trestles.  The  people,  naturally  enough,  were  found  to  be  "utterly 
devoid  of  religion,"  and  came  to  church  "  as  to  a  May  game."  To 
the  difficulties  which  Parker  found  in  the  temper  of  the  reformers  and 
their  opponents  new  difficulties  were  added  by  the  freaks  of  the 
Queen.  If  she  had  no  convictions,  she  had  tastes  ;  and  her  taste 
revolted  from  the  bareness  of  Protestant  ritual  and  above  all  from 
the  marriage  of  priests.  "  Leave  that  alone,"  she  shouted  to  Dean 
Nowell  from  the  royal  closet  as  he  denounced  the  use  of  images — 
'*  stick  to  your  text,  Master  Dean,  leave  that  alone  !  "  When  Parker 
was  firm  in  resisting  the  introduction  of  the  crucifix  or  of  celibacy, 
Elizabeth  showed  her  resentment  at  his  firmness  by  an  insult  to  his 
wife.  Married  ladies  were  addressed  at  this  time  as  "  Madam," 
unmarried  ladies  as  "  Mistress  ;"  and  when  Mrs.  Parker  advanced  at 
the  close  of  a  sumptuous  entertainment  at  Lambeth  to  take  leave  of 
the  Queen,  Elizabeth  feigned  a  momentary  hesitation.  "  Madam," 
she  said  at  last,  "  I  may  not  call  you,  and  Mistress  I  am  loth  to  call 
you  ;  however,  1  thank  you  for  your  good  cheer."  To  the  end  of  hci 
reign  indeed  Elizabeth  remained  as  bold  a  plunderer  of  the  wealth  of 
the  bishops  as  either  of  her  predecessors,  and  carved  out  rewards  for 
her  ministers  from  the  Church-lands  with  a  queenly  disregard  of  the 
rights  of  property.  Lord  Burleigh  built  up  the  estate  of  the  house  of 
Cecil  out  of  the  demesnes  of  the  see  of  Peterborough.  The  neigh- 
bourhood of  Hatton  Garden  to  Ely  Place  recalls  the  spoliation  of 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


379 


another  bishopric  in  favour  of  the  Queen's  sprightly  chancellor.  Her 
reply  to  the  bishop's  protest  against  this  robbery  showed  what  Eliza- 
beth meant  by  her  Ecclesiastical  Supremacy.  "  Proud  prelate/'  she 
wrote,  "  you  know  what  you  were  before  I  made  you  what  you  are  ! 
If  you  do  not  immediately  comply  with  my  request,  by  God  I  will 
unfrock  you."  But  freaks  of  this  sort  had  little  real  influence  beside 
the  steady  support  which  the  Queen  gave  to  the  Primate  in  his  work 
of  order.  She  suffered  no  plunder  save  her  own,  and  she  was  earnest 
for  the  restoration  of  order  and  decency  in  the  outer  arrangements 
of  the  Church.  The  vacant  sees  were  filled  for  the  most  part  with 
learned  and  able  men  ;  and  England  seemed  to  settle  quietly  down 
in  a  religious  peace. 

The  settlement  of  religion  however  was  not  the  only  pressing  care 
which  met  Elizabeth  as  she  mounted  the  throne.  The  country  was 
drained  by  war  ;  yet  she  could  only  free  herself  from  war,  and  from 
the  dependence  on  Spain  which  it  involved,  by  acquiescing  in  the  loss 
of  Calais.  But  though  peace  was  won  by  the  sacrifice,  France  re- 
mained openly  hostile  ;  the  Dauphin  and  his  wife,  Mary  Stuart,  had 
assumed  the  arms  and  style  of  King  and  Queen  of  England  ;  and  their 
pretensions  became  a  source  of  immediate  danger  through  the  pre- 
sence of  a  French  army  in  Scotland.  To  understand,  however,  what 
had  taken  place  there  we  must  cursorily  review  the  past  history  of 
the  Northern  Kingdom.  From  the  moment  when  England  finally 
abandoned  the  fruitless  effort  to  subdue  it  the  story  of  Scotland  had 
been  a  miserable  one.  Whatever  peace  might  be  concluded,  a  sleep- 
less dread  of  the  old  danger  from  the  south  tied  the  country  to  an 
alliance  with  France,  which  dragged  it  into  the  vortex  of  the  Hundred 
Years'  War.  But  after  the  final  defeat  and  capture  of  David  in 
the  field  of  Neville's  Cross  the  struggle  died  down  on  both  sides 
into  marauding  forays  and  battles,  like  those  of  Otterburn  and 
Homildon  Hill,  in  which  alternate  victories  were  won  by  the  feudal 
lords  of  the  Scotch  or  English  border.  The  ballad  of  "  Chevy  Chase" 
brings  home  to  us  the  spirit  of  the  contest,  the  daring  and  defiance 
which  stirred  Sidney's  heart "  more  than  with  a  trumpet."  But  its  effect 
on  the  internal  developement  of  Scotland  was  utterly  ruinous.  The 
houses  of  Douglas  and  of  March  which  it  raised  into  supremacy  only 
interrupted  their  strife  with  England  to  battle  fiercely  with  one  another 
or  to  coerce  their  King.  The  power  of  the  Crown  sank  in  fact 
into  insignificance  under  the  earlier  sovereigns  of  the  Hne  of  Stuart 
which  had  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the  extinction  of  the  male 
line  of  Bruce.  Invasions  and  civil  feuds  not  only  arrested  but  even 
rolled  back  the  national  industry  and  prosperity.  The  country  was 
a  chaos  of  disorder  and  misrule,  in  which  the  peasant  and  the 
trader  were  the  victims  of  feudal  outrage.  The  Border  became 
a  lawless  land,  where  robbery  and  violence  reigned    utterly  without 


380 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


check.  So  pitiable  seemed  the  state  of  the  kingdom  that  the 
clans  of  the  Highlands  drew  together  at  last  to  swoop  upon  it  as  a 
certain  prey  ;  but  the  common  peril  united  the  factions  of  the  nobles, 
and  the  victory  of  Harlaw  saved  the  Lowlands  from  the  rule  of  the 
Celt.  A  great  name  at  last  broke  the  line  of  the  Scottish  kings. 
Schooled  by  a  long  captivity  in  England,  James  the  First  returned  to 
his  realm  to  be  the  ablest  of  her  rulers  as  he  was  the  first  of  her  poets. 
In  the  thirteen  years  of  a  short  but  wonderful  reign  justice  and  order 
were  restored  for  a  while,  the  Scotch  Parliament  organized,  the  clans 
of  the  Highlands  assailed  in  their  own  fastnesses  and  reduced  to 
swear  fealty  to  the  "  Saxon  "  King.  James  turned  to  deal  with  the 
great  houses,  but  feudal  violence  was  still  too  strong  for  the  hand  of 
the  law,  and  a  band  of  ruffians  who  burst  int(  the  royal  chamber  left 
the  King  lifeless  with  sixteen  stabs  in  his  body.  His  death  was  the 
signal  for  a  struggle  between  the  House  of  Douglas  and  the  Crown, 
which  lasted  through  half  a  century.  Order,  however,  crept  gradually 
in  ;  the  exile  of  the  Douglases  left  the  Scottish  monarchs  supreme  in 
the  Rowlands  ;  wfhile  their  dominion  over  the  Highlands  was  secured 
by  the  ruin  of  the  Lords  of  the  Isles.  But  in  its  outer  policy  the 
country  still  followed  in  the  wake  of  France  ;  every  quarrel  between 
French  King  and  English  King  brought  danger  with  it  on  the  Scottish 
border;  till  Henry  the  Seventh  bound  England  and  Scotland  together 
for  a  time  by  bestowing  in  1502  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Margaret 
on  the  Scottish  king.  The  union  was  dissolved  however  by  the  strife 
with  France  which  followed  the  accession  of  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  war 
broke  out  anew,  and  the  terrible  defeat  and  death  of  James  the  Fourth 
at  Flodden  Field  involved  his  realm  in  the  turbulence  and  misrule  of 
a  minority.  His  successor  James  the  Fifth,  though  nephew  of  the 
English  King,  from  the  outset  of  his  reign  took  up  an  attitude  hostile 
to  Englan  1 ;  and  Church  and  people  were  leady  to  aid  in  plunging 
the  two  countries  into  a  fresh  struggle.  His  defeat  at  Solway  Moss 
brought  the  young  King  broken-hearted  to  his  grave.  "  It  came  with 
a  lass,  and  it  will  go  with  a  lass,"  he  cried,  as  they  brought  him  on  his 
death-bed  the  news  of  Mary  Stuart's  birth.  The  hand  of  his  inf;int 
successor  at  once  became  the  subject  of  rivalry  between  England  and 
France.  Had  Mary,  as  Henry  the  Eighth  desired,  been  weddrd  to 
Edward  the  Sixth,  the  whole  destinies  of  Europe  might  have  been 
changed  by  the  union  of  the  two  realms  ;  but  the  recent  bloodshed  had 
embittered  Scotland,  and  the  high-handed  way  in  which  Somerset 
pushed  the  marriage  project  completed  th:;  breach.  Somerset's  in- 
vasion and  victory  at  Pinkie  CJeugh  only  enabled  Mary  of  Guise,  the 
French  wife  of  James  the  Fifth,  who  had  become  Regent  of  the  realm  at 
his  death,  to  induce  the  .Scotch  estates  to  consent  to  the  union  of  her 
child  with  the  heir  of  the  French  crown,  the  Dauphin  Francis.  From 
that  moment,  as  we  have  seen,  the  claims  of  the  Scottish  Queen  on 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


381 


the  English  throne  became  so  formidable  a  danger  as  to  drive  Mary 
Tudor  to  her  marriage  with  Philip  of  Spain,  But  the  danger  became 
a  still  greater  one  on  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  whose  legitimacy  no 
Catholic  acknowledged,  and  whose  religious  attitude  tended  to  throw 
the  Catholic  party  into  her  rival's  hands 

In  spite  of  the  peace  with  France,  therefore,  Francis  and   Mary 
persisted    in    their    pretensions  ;     and    a    French    force    landed    at 
Leith,   with   the   connivance  of  Mary   of  Guise.      The   appearance 
of  this  force  on  the  Border  was  intended  to  bring  about  a  Catholic 
rising.     But  the  hostility  between  France  and  Spain  bound  Philip, 
for  the  moment,  to  the  support  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  his  influence  over 
the  Catholics  secured  quiet  for  a  time.     The  Queen,  too,  played  with 
their  hopes  of  a  religious  reaction  by  talk  of  her  own  reconciliation 
with  the  Papacy  and  admission  of  a  Papal  legate  to  the  realm,  and  by 
plans  for  her  marriage  with  an  Austrian  and  Catholic  prince.     Mean- 
while she  parried  the  blow  in  Scotland  itself,  where  the  Reformation 
had  begun  rapidly  to  gain  ground,  by  secretly  encouraging  the  "  Lords 
of  the  Congregation,"  as  the  nobles  who  headed  the  Protestant  party 
were  styled,  to  rise  against  the  Regent.     Since  her  accession  Eliza- 
beth's diplomacy  had  gained  her  a  year,  and  her  matchless  activity 
had  used  the  year  to  good  purpose.     Order  was  restored  throughout 
England,  the  Church  was  reorganized,  the  debts  of  the  Crown  were  in 
part  paid  off,  the  treasury  was  recruited,  a  navy  created,  and  a  force 
ready  for  action  in  the  north,  when  the  defeat  of  her  Scotch  adherents 
forced  her  at  last  to  throw  aside  the  mask.     As  yet  she  stood  almost 
alone  in  her  self  reliance.     Spain  believed  her  ruin  to  be  certain  ; 
France  despised  her  chances  ;  her  very  Council  was  in  despair.     The 
one  minister  in  whom  she  dared  to  confide  was  Cecil,  the  youngest 
and  boldest  of  her  advisers,  and  even  Cecil  trembled  for  her  success. 
But  lies  and  hesitation  were  no  sooner  put  aside  than  the  Queen's 
vigour  and  tenacity  came  fairly  into  play.  At  a  moment  when  D'Oysel, 
the  French  commander,  was  on  the  point  of  crushing  the  Lords  of  the 
Congregation,  an  English  fleet  appeared  suddenly  in  the  Forth  and 
forced  the  Regent's  army  to  fall  back  upon  Leith.     The  Queen  made 
a  formal  treaty  with  the  Lords,  and  promised  to  assist  them  in  the 
expulsion  of  the  strangers.     France  was  torn  by  internal  strife,  and 
could  send  neither  money  nor  men.     In  March,  Lord  Grey  moved 
over  the  border  with  8,000  men  to  join  the  Lords  of  the  Congregation 
in  the  siege  of  Leith.    1  he  Scots  indeed  gave  little  aid  ;  and  an  assault 
on  the  town  signally  failed.     Philip  too  in  a  sudden  jealousy  of  Eliza- 
beth's growing  strength  demanded  the  abandonment  of  the  enterprise. 
But  Elizabeth  was  immovable.     Famine  did  its  work  better  than  the 
sword  ;  and  in  two  treaties  with  the  Scotch  and  English,  the  envoys 
of  Francis  and  Mary  at  last  promised  to  withdraw  the  French,  and 
leave  the  government  to  a  Council  of  the  Lords ;  and  acknowledged 


J82 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF 


Elizabeth's  title  to  her  throne.    A  Scotch  Parliament  at  once  declared 
Calvinism  the  national  religion.     Both  Act  and  Treaty  indeed  were  set 
aside  by  P>ancis  and  Mary,  but  Elizabeth's  policy  had  in  fact  broken' 
the  dependence  of  Scotland  on  France,  and  bound  to  her  side  the 
strongest  and  most  vigorous  party  among  its  nobles.  V 

Section  IV.— Engrland  and  Mary  Stuart.    1560— 1572. 

[Authorities.  -  As  before.  Ranke's  "  English  History,"  "  History  of  the  Re- 
formation," by  Knox.  For  Mary  Stuart,  the  works  of  Buchanan  and  Leslie, 
*MelvilIe's  Memoirs,  collections  of  Keith  and  Anderson.  For  the  Dutch  revolt 
Motley's  "  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic,"  and  "  History  of  the  United  Nether- 
lands."] 

The  issue  of  the  Scotch  war  revealed  suddenly  to  Europe  the  vigour 
of  Elizabeth,  and  the  real  strength  of  her  throne.  She  had  freed 
herself  from  the  control  of  Philip,  she  had  defied  France,  she  had 
averted  the  danger  from  the  North  by  the  creation  of  an  English 
party  among  the  nobles  of  Scotland.  The  same  use  of  religious  divi- 
sions gave  her  a  similar  check  on  the  hostility  of  France.  The 
Huguenots,  as  the  French  Protestants  were  called,  had  become  a 
formidable  party  under  the  guidance  of  the  Admiral  Coligni,  and 
the  defeat  of  their  rising  against  the  family  of  the  Guides,  who  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  French  Catholics  and  were  supreme  at  the  Court 
of  Francis  and  Mary,  threw  them  on  the  support  and  alliance  of 
Elizabeth.  But  if  the  decisive  outbreak  of  the  great  religious  struggle, 
so  long  looked  for  between  the  Old  Faith  and  the  New,  gave  Elizabeth 
strength  abroad,  it  weakened  her  at  home.  Her  Catholic  subjects  lost 
all  hope  of  her  conversion  as  they  saw  the  Queen  allying  herself  wit!i 
Scotch  Calvinists  and  French  Huguenots  ;  her  hopes  of  a  religious 
compromise  in  matters  of  worship  were  broken  by  the  issue  of  a  Japal 
brief  which  forbade  attendance  at  the  English  service  ;  and  Philip  f 
Spain,  freed  like  herself  from  the  fear  of  France  by  its  rel'gious  divi- 
sions, had  less  reason  to  hold  the  English  Catholics  in  check.  He 
was  preparing,  in  fact,  to  take  a  new  political  stand  as  the  patron 
of  Catholicism  throughout  the  world  ;  and  his  troops  were  directed 
to  support  the  Guises  in  the  civil  war  which  broke  out  after  the  death 
of  Francis  the  Second,  and  to  attack  the  heretics  wherever  they 
might  find  them.  "  Religion,''  he  told  Elizabeth,  "  was  being  made 
a  cloak  for  anarchy  and  revolution."  It  was  at  the  moment  when 
the  last  hopes  of  the  English  Catholics  were  dispelled  by  the  Queen's 
refusal  to  take  part  in  the  Council  of  Trent  that  Mary  Stuart,  whom 
the  death  of  her  husband  had  left  a  stranger  in  France,  landed 
at  Leith.  Girl  as  she  was,  and  she  was  only  nineteen,  she  was 
hardly  inferior  in  intellectual  power  to  Elizabeth  herself,  while  in  fire 
and  grace  and  brilliancy  of  temper  she  stood  higli  above  her.     She 


vuA 


THE  REFORMATION. 


383 


brought  with  her  the  voluptuous  refinement  of  the  French  Renascence  : 
she  would  lounge  for  days  in  bed,  and  rise  only  at  night  for  dances 
and  music.  But  her  frame  was  of  iron,  and  incapable  of  fatigue  ; 
she  galloped  ninety  miles  after  her  last  defeat  without  a  pause  save  to 
change  horses.  She  loved  risk  and  adventure  and  the  ring  of  arms  ; 
as  she  rode  in  a  foray  to  the  north,  the  grim  swordsmen  beside 
her  heard  her  wish  she  was  a  man,  "  to  know  what  life  it  was  to 
lie  all  night  in  the  fields,  or  to  walk  on  the  cawsey  with  a  Glasgow 
buckler  and  a  broadsword."  But  in  the  closet  she  was  as  cool  and 
astute  a  politician  as  Elizabeth  herself;  with  plans  as  subtle,  but  of  a 
far  wider  and  grander  range  than  the  Queen's.  "  Whatever  policy  is 
in  all  the  chief  and  best  practised  heads  of  France,"  wrote  an  Enghsh 
envoy,  "  whatever  craft,  falsehood,  and  deceit  is  in  all  the  subtle  brains 
cf  Scotland,  is  either  fresh  in  this  woman's  memory,  or  she  can  fetch 
it  out  with  a  wet  finger."  Her  beauty,  her  exquisite  grace  of  manner, 
her  generosity  of  temper  and  warmth  of  affection,  her  frankness  of 
speech,  her  sensibility,  her  gaiety,  her  womanly  tears,  her  manlike 
courage,  the  play  and  freedom  of  her  nature,  the  flashes  of  poetry 
that  broke  from  her  at  every  intense  moment  of  her  life,  flung  a  spell 
over  friend  or  foe  which  has  only  deepened  with  the  lapse  of  years. 
Even  to  Knollys,  the  sternest  Puritan  of  his  day,  she  seemed  in 
her  captivity  to  be  "  a  notable  woman."  "  She  seemeth  tvj  regard  no 
ceremonious  honour  besides  the  acknowledgement  of  her  estate  royal. 
She  showeth  a  disposition  to  speak  much,  to  be  bold,  to  be  pleasant, 
to  be  very  familiar.  She  showeth  a  great  desire  to  be  avenged  on  her 
enemies.  She  showeth  a  readiness  to  expose  herself  to  all  perils  in 
hope  of  victory.  She  desireth  much  to  hear  of  hardiness  and  valiancy, 
commending  by  name  all  approved  hardy  men  of  her  country  though 
they  be  her  enemies,  and  she  concealeth  no  cowardice  even  in  her 
friends."  As  yet  men  knew  nothing  of  the  stern  bigotry,  the  intensity 
of  passion,  which  lay  beneath  the  winning  surface  of  Mary's  woman- 
hood. But  they  at  once  recognized  her  political  ability.  She  had 
seized  eagerly  on  the  new  strength  which  was  given  her  by  her  hus- 
band's death.  Her  cause  was  no  longer  hampered,  either  in  Scotland 
or  in  England,  by  a  national  jealousy  of  French  interference.  Jit  was 
with  a  resolve  to  break  the  league  between  Elizabeth  and  the*  Scotch 
Protestants,  to  unite  her  own  realm  around  her,  and  thus  to  give  a  firm 
base  for  her  intrigues  among  the  English  Catholics,  that  Mary  landed 
at  Leith.  The  effect  of  her  presence  was  marvellous.  Her  personal 
fascination  revived  the  national  loyalty,  and  swept  all  Scotland  to  her 
feet.  Knox,  the  greatest  and  sternest  of  the  Calvinistic  preachers, 
alone  withstood  her  spell.  The  rough  Scotch  nobles  owned  that  there 
was  in  Mary  "  some  enchantment  whereby  men  are  bewitched."  A 
promise  of  religious  toleration  united  her  subjects  in  support  of  the 
claim  which  she  advanced  to  be  named  Elizabeth's  successor.      But 


334 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


the  question  of  the  succession,  Hke  the  question  of  her  marriage,  was 
with  Elizabeth  a  question  of  Hfe  and  death.  Her  wedding  with  a 
Catholic  or  a  Protestant  suitor  would  have  been  equally  the  end  of  her 
system  of  balance  and  national  union,  a  signal  for  the  revolt  of  the 
party  wMch  she  disappointed  and  for  the  triumphant  dictation  of  the 
party  which  she  satisfied.  "  If  a  Catholic  prince  come  here,"  a  Spanish 
ambassador  wrote  while  pressing  an  Austrian  marriage,  "  the  first 
Mass  he  attends  will  be  the  signal  for  a  revolt."  It  was  so  with  the 
question  of  the  succession.  To  name  a  Protestant  successor  from  the 
House  of  Suffolk  would  have  driven  every  Catholic  to  insurrection. 
To  name  Mary  was  to  stir  Protestantism  to  a  rising  of  despair,  and  to 
leave  Elizabeth  at  the  mercy  of  every  fanatical  assassin  who  wished  to 
clear  the  way  for  a  Catholic  ruler.  "  I  am  not  so  foolish,"  was  the  Queen's 
reply  to  Mary,  "  as  to  hang  a  winding-sheet  before  my  eyes." 

But  the  pressure  on  her  was  great,  and  Mary  looked  to  the  triumph 
of  Catholicism  in  France  to  increase  the  pressure.  It  was  this  whi'^h 
drove  Elizabeth  to  listen  to  the  cry  of  the  Huguenots  at  the  moment 
when  they  were  yielding  to  the  strength  of  the  Guises.  Hate  war  as 
she  might,  t'le  instinct  of  self-preservation  dragged  her  into  the  great 
struggle  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  menaces  of  Philip,  money  and  six  thou- 
sand men  were  promised  to  the  aid  of  the  Protestants  under  Condd. 
But  a  fatal  overthrow  of  the  Huguenot  army  at  Dreux  left  the  Guises 
masters  of  France,  and  brought  the  danger  to  the  very  doors  of  Eng- 
land. The  hopes  of  the  English  Cathohcs  rose  higher.  Though  the 
Pope  delayed  to  issue  his  Bull  of  Deposition,  a  Papal  brief  pronounced 
joining  in  the  Common  Prayer  schismatic,  and  forbade  the  attendance 
of  Catholics  at  church.  With  the  issue  of  this  brief  the  conformity  of 
worship  which  Elizabeth  had  sought  to  estabHsh  came  to  an  end.  The 
hotter  Catholics  withdrew  from  church.  Heavy  fines  were  laid  on  them 
as  recusants  ;  fines  which,  as  their  numbers  increased,  became  a  valu- 
able source  of  supply  for  the  exchequer.  But  no  fines  could  compensate 
for  the  moral  blow  which  their  withdrawal  dealt.  It  was  the  beginning 
of  a  struggle  which  Elizabeth  had  averted  through  three  memorable 
years.  Protes'  .nt  f  inaticism  met  Catholic  fanaticism.  The  tidings  of 
Dreux  spread  panic  through  the  realm.  Parliament  showed  its  terror 
by  measures  of  a  new  severity.  "  There  has  been  enough  of  words," 
said  the  Queen's  minister,  Sir  Francis  Knollys  ;  "  it  were  time  to  draw 
sword."  The  sword  was  drawn  in  a  Test  Act,  the  first  in  a  series  of 
penal  statutes  which  weighed  upon  English  Catholics  for  two  hundred 
years.  By  this  statute  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Queen  and  abjura- 
tion of  the  temporal  authority  of  the  Pope  was  exacted  from  all  holders 
of  office,  lay  or  spiritual,  with  the  exception  of  peers.  Its  effect  was  to 
place  the  whole  power  of  the  realm  in  the  hands  either  of  Protestants, 
or  of  Catholics  who  accepted  Elizabeth's  legitimacy  and  her  ecclesias- 
tic.ll  jurisdiction  in  the  teeth  of  the  Papacy.    Caution  indeed  was  used 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


38$ 


in  applying  this  test  to  the  laity,  but  pressure  was  more  roughly  put  on 
the  clergy.  Many  of  the  parish  priests,  though  they  had  submitted  to 
the  use  of  the  Prayer-book,  had  not  taken  the  oath  prescribed  by  the 
Act  of  Uniformity.  As  yet  Elizabeth  had  cautiously  refused  to  allow 
any  strict  inquiry  into  their  opinions.  But  a  commission  was  now 
Dpened  by  her  order  at  Lambeth,  with  the  Primate  at  ^^s  head,  to 
enforce  the  Act ;  while  thirty-nine  of  the  Articles  drawn  up  under 
Edward  were  adopted  as  a  standard  of  faith,  and  acceptance  of  them 
demanded  of  the  clergy. 

It  is  possible  that  Elizabeth  might  have  clung  to  her  older  policy  of 
conciliation  had  she  foreseen  how  suddenly  the  danger  that  appalled 
her  was  to  pass  away.  At  this  crisis  she  was  able,  as  usual,  to  "count 
on  Fortune."  The  assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  broke  up  his  party; 
a  policy  of  moderation  and  balance  prevailed  at  the  French  Court; 
Catharine  of  Medicis  was  now  supreme,  and  her  aim  was  still  an  aim  of 
peace.  The  Queen's  good  luck  was  chequered  by  a  merited  humiliation, 
bhe  had  sold  her  aid  to  the  Huguenots  in  their  hour  of  distress  at  the 
price  of  the  surrender  of  Havre,  and  Havre  was  again  wrested  from 
her  by  the  reunion  of  the  French  parties.  Peace  with  France  in  the 
following  spring  secured  her  a  year's  respite  in  her  anxieties  ;  and  Mary 
was  utterly  foiled  in  her  plan  for  bringing  the  pressure  of  a  united  Scot- 
land, backed  by  France,  to  bear  upon  her  rival.  But  the  defeat  only 
threw  her  on  a  yet  more  formidable  scheme.  She  was  weary  of  the 
mask  of  religious  indifference  which  her  policy  had  forced  her  to  wear 
with  the  view  of  securing  the  general  support  of  her  subjects.  She  re- 
solved now  to  appeal  to  the  English  Catholics  on  the  ground  of  Catho- 
licism. Next  to  the  Scottish  Queen  in  the  line  of  blood  stood  Henry 
Stuart,  Lord  Darnley,  a  son  of  the  Countess  of  Lennox,  and  grandson 
of  Margaret  Tudor  by  her  second  marriage  with  the  Earl  of  Angus,  as 
Mary  was  her  grandchild  by  Margaret's  first  marriage  with  James  the 
Fourth.  Though  the  house  of  Lennox  conformed  to  the  new  system 
of  English  worship,  its  sympathies  were  known  to  be  Catholic,  and  the 
hopes  of  the  CathoHcs  wrapped  themselves  ruund  its  heir.  It  was  by 
a  match  with  Henry  Stuart  that  Mary  now  determined  to  unite  the 
forces  of  Catholicism.  The  match  was  regarded  on  all  sides  as  a 
challenge  to  Protestantism.  Philip  had  till  now  looked  upon  Mary's 
system  of  toleration  and  on  her  hopes  from  France  wiih  equal  suspicion. 
But  he  now  drew  slowly  to  her  side.  "  She  is  the  one  gate,"  he 
owned,  "  through  which  Religion  can  be  restored  in  England.  All  the 
rest  are  closed."  It  was  in  vain  that  Elizabeth  strove  to  prevent  the 
marriage  by  a  threat  of  war,  or  by  secret  plots  for  the  seizure  of  Mary 
and  the  driving  of  Darnley  back  over  the  border.  The  Lords  of  the 
Congregation  woke  with  a  start  from  their  confidence  in  the  Queen,  and 
her  hall- brother,  Lord  James  Stuart,  better  known  as  Earl  of  Murray, 
•uustered  his  Protestant  confederates.     But  their  revolt  was  hardly 

o 


386 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


declared  when  Mary  marched  on  them  with  pistols  in  her  belt,  and 
drove  their  leaders  helplessly  over  the  border.  A  rumour  spread  that 
she  was  in  league  with  Spain  and  with  France,  where  the  influences  of 
the  Guises  was  again  strong.  Elizabeth  took  refuge  in  the  meanest 
dissimulation,  while  the  announcement  of  Mary's  pregnancy  soon  gave 
her  a  strength  which  swefJt  aside  Philip's  counsels  of  caution  and  delay. 
"  With  the  help  of  God  and  of  your  Holiness,"  Mary  wrote  to  the 
Pope, "  I  will  leap  over  the  wall."  Rizzio,  an  Italian  who  had  counselled 
the  marriage,  still  remained  her  adviser,  and  the  daring  advice  he 
gave  fell  in  with  her  natural  temper.  She  demanded  a  recognition  of 
her  succession.  She  resolved  in  the  coming  Parliament  to  restore 
Catholicism  in  Scotland  ;  and  to  secure  the  banishment  of  Murray  and 
his  companions.  The  English  Catholics  of  the  North  were  ready  to  revolt 
as  soon  as  she  was  ready  to  aid  them.  No  such  danger  had  ever 
threatened  Elizabeth  as  this,  but  again  she  could  "trust  to  Fortune." 
Mary  had  staked  all  on  her  union  with  Darnley,  and  yet  only  a  few 
months  had  passed  since  her  wedding  day  when  men  saw  that  she 
"hated  the  King."  The  boy  turned  out  a  dissolute,  insolent  husband  ; 
and  Mary's  scornful  refusal  of  his  claim  of  the  "  crown  matrimonial,"  a 
refusal  which  Darnley  attributed  to  Rizzio's  counsels,  drove  his  jealousy 
to  madness.  At  the  very  moment  when  the  Queen  revealed  the  extent 
of  her  schemes  by  her  dismissal  of  the  English  ambassador,  the  young 
King,  followed  by  his  kindred  the  Douglases,  burst  into  her  chamber, 
dragged  Rizzio  from  her  presence,  and  stabbed  him  brutally  in  an  outer 
chamber.  The  darker  features  of  Mary's  character  were  now  to  develope 
themselves.  Darnley,  keen  as  was  her  thirst  for  vengeance  on  him,  was 
needful  to  the  triumph  of  her  political  aims.  She  masked  her  hatred 
beneath  a  show  of  affection,  which  succeeded  in  severing  the  wretched 
boy  from  his  fellow-conspirators,  and  in  gaining  his  help  in  an  escape 
to  Dunbar.  Once  free,  she  marched  in  triumph  on  Edinburgh  at  the 
held  of  eight  thousand  men  under  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  while  Morton, 
Ruthven,  and  Lindesay  fled  in  terror  over  the  border.  With  wise  dis- 
simulation, however,  she  fell  back  on  her  system  of  religious  toleration. 
But  her  intrigues  with  the  English  Catholics  were  never  interrupted, 
and  her  Court  was  full  of  refugees  from  the  northern  counties.  "  Your 
actions,"  Elizabeth  wrote  in  a  sudden  break  of  fierce  candour,  "are  as 
full  of  venom  as  your  words  are  of  honey."  The  birth  of  her  child,  the 
future  James  the  Sixth  of  Scotland  and  First  of  England,  doubled 
Mary's  strength.  "  Your  friends  arc  so  increased,"  her  ambassador 
wrote  to  her  from  England,  "that  many  whole  shires  are  ready  to  rebel, 
and  their  captains  named  by  election  of  the  nobility."  The  anxiety  of 
the  English  I'arliament  which  met  at  this  crisis  proved  that  the  dani^er 
was  felt  to  be  real.  The  Houses  saw  but  one  way  of  providing  against 
't  ;  and  they  renewed  their  appeal  for  the  Queen's  marriage  and  for  a 
settlement  of  the  succession.    As  we  have  seen,  both  of  these  measures 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


387 


involved  even  greater  dangers  than  they  averted  ;  but  Elizabeth  stood 
alone  in  her  resistance  to  them.  To  settle  the  succession  was  at  once 
CO  draw  the  sword.  The  Queen  therefore  on  this  point  stood  firm.  The 
promise  to  marry,  which  she  gave  after  a  furious  burst  of  anger,  she 
was  no  doubt  resolved  to  evade  as  she  had  evaded  it  before.  But  the 
quarrel  with  the  Commons  which  followed  on  her  prohibition  of  any 
debate  on  the  succession,  a  quarrel  to  which  we  shall  recur  at  a  laier 
time,  hit  Elizabeth  hard.  It  was  "  secret  foes  at  home,"  she  told  the 
Commons  as  their  quarrel  passed  away  in  a  warm  reconcihation,  "  who 
thought  to  work  me  that  mischief  which  never  foreign  enemies  could 
bring  to  pass,  which  is  the  hatred  of  my  Commons.  Do  you  think 
that  either  I  am  so  unmindful  of  your  surety  by  succession,  wherein 
is  all  my  care,  or  that  I  went  about  to  breik  your  liberties.?  No! 
it  never  was  my  meaning ;  but  to  stay  you  before  you  fell  into  the 
ditch."  It  was  impossible  for  her  however  to  explain  the  real  reasons 
for  her  course,  and  the  dissolution  of  ihe  Parliament  left  her  face  to  face 
with  a  national  discontent  added  to  the  ever-deepening  peril  from 
without. 

One  terrible  event  suddenly  struck  light  through  the  gathering 
clouds.  Mary  had  used  Darnley  as  a  tool  to  effect  the  ruin  of  his 
confederates  and  to  further  her  policy,  but  since  his  share  in  Rizzio's 
murder  she  had  loathed  and  avoided  him.  Ominous  words  dropped 
from  her  lips.  "  Unless  she  were  freed  of  him  some  way,"  she  said, 
"  she  had  no  pleasure  to  live."  Her  purpose  of  vengeance  was  quick- 
ened by  her  passion  for  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  the  boldest  and  most 
unscrupulous  of  the  border  nobles.  The  Earl's  desperate  temper 
shrank  from  no  obstacles  to  a  union  with  the  Queen.  Divorce  would 
free  him  from  his  own  wife.  Darnley  might  be  struck  down  by  a 
conspiracy  of  the  lords  whom  he  had  deserted  and  betrayed,  and  who 
still  looked  on  him  as  their  bitterest  foe.  The  exiled  nobles  were 
recalled  ;  there  were  dark  whispers  among  the  lords.  The  terrible 
secret  of  the  deed  which  followed  is  still  wrapt  in  a  cloud  of  doubt  and 
mystery  which  will  probably  never  be  wholly  dispelled.  The  Queen's 
mood  seemed  suddenly  to  change.  Her  hatred  to  Darnley  passed  all 
at  once  into  demonstrations  of  the  old  affection.  He  had  fallen  sick 
with  vice  and  misery,  and  she  visited  him  on  his  sick  bed,  and  per- 
suaded him  to  follow  her  to  Edinburgh,  ^he  visited  him  again  in  a 
ruinous  and  lonely  house  near  the  palace,  in  which  he  was  lodged  by 
her  order,  kissed  him  as  she  bade  him  farewell,  and  rode  gaily  back 
to  a  wedding-dance  at  Holyrood.  Two  hours  after  midnight  an  awful 
explosion  shook  the  city  ;  and  the  burghers  rushed  out  from  the  gites 
to  find  the  house  of  Kirk  o'  Field  destroyed,  and  Darnley's  body  dead 
beside  the  ruins.  The  murder  was  undoubtedly  the  deed  of  Bothwell. 
His  servant,  it  was  soon  known,  had  stored  the  powder  beneath  the 
King's  bed-chamber  ;  and  the  Earl  had  watched  without  the  walls  till 


388 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(CHAr, 


the  deed  was  done.  But,  in  spite  of  gathering  suspicion  and  of  a 
charge  of  murder  made  formally  against  him  by  Lord  Lennox,  no 
serious  steps  were  taken  to  investigate  the  crime  ;  and  a  rumour  that 
Mary  purposed  to  marry  the  murderer  drove  her  friends  to  despair. 
Her  agent  in  England  wrote  to  her  that  "if  she  married  that  man  she 
would  lose  the  favour  of  God,  her  own  reputation,  and  the  hearts  of  all 
England,  Ireland,  and  Scotland."  But  every  stronghold  in  the  king- 
dom was  soon  placed  in  Bothwell's  hands,  and  this  step  was  the 
prelude  to  a  trial  and  acquittal  which  the  overwhelming  force  of  his 
followers  in  Edinburgh  turned  into  a  bitter  mockery.  A  shameless 
suit  for  his  divorce  removed  the  last  obstacle  to  his  ambition  ;  and  a 
seizure  of  the  Queen  as  she  rode  to  Linlithgow  was  followed  by  a 
marriage.  In  a  month  more  all  was  over.  The  horror  at  such  a 
marriage  with  a  man  fresh  from  her  husband's  blood  drove  the  whole 
nation  to  revolt.  Its  nobles.  Catholic  as  well  as  Protestant,  gathered 
in  arms  at  Stirling  ;  and  their  entrance  into  Edinburgh  roused  the 
capital  into  insurrection.  Mary  and  the  Earl  advanced  with  a  fair 
force  to  Seton  to  encounter  the  Lords  ;  but  their  men  refused  to  fight, 
and  Bothwell  galloped  off  into  lifelong  exile,  while  the  Queen  was 
brought  back  to  Edinburgh  in  a  frenzy  of  despair,  tossing  back  wild 
words  of  defiance  to  the  curses  of  the  crowd.  From  Edinburgh 
she  was  carried  a  prisoner  to  the  fortress  of  Lochleven  ;  as  the  price 
of  her  life  she  was  forced  to  resign  her  crown  in  favour  of  her  child, 
and  to  name  her  brother,  the  Earl  of  Murray,  who  was  now  returning 
from  France,  as  regent.  In  July  the  babe  was  solemnly  crowned  as 
James  the  Sixth. 

For  ihe  moment  England  was  saved,  but  the  ruin  of  Mary's  hopes 
had  not  come  one  instant  too  soon.  The  great  conflict  between  the 
two  religions,  which  had  begun  in  France,  was  slowly  widening  into  a 
general  struggle  over  the  whole  face  of  Europe.  For  four  years  the 
balanced  policy  of  Catharine  of  Medicis  had  wrested  a  truce  from  both 
Catholics  and  Huguenots,  but  Cond<5  and  the  Guises  again  rose  in  arms, 
each  side  eager  to  find  its  profit  in  the  new  troubles  which  now  broke 
out  in  Flanders.  For  the  long  persecution  of  the  Protestants  there,  and 
the  unscrupulous  invasion  of  the  constitutional  liberties  of  the  Pro- 
vinces by  Philip  of  Spain, had  at  last  stirred  the  Netherlands  to  revolt; 
and  the  insurrection  was  seized  by  Philip  as  a  pretjxt  for  dealing  a 
blow  he  had  long  meditated  at  the  growing  heresy  of  this  portion  of 
his  dominions.  At  the  moment  when  Mary  entered  Lochleven,  the 
Duke  of  Alva  was  starting  with  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  on  his 
march  to  the  Low  Countries  ;  and  with  his  easy  triumph  over  their 
insurgent  forces  began  the  terrible  series  of  outrages  and  massacres 
which  h  ive  made  his  name  infamous  .n  history.  No  event  could  bo 
more  embarrassing  to  Elizabeth  than  the  arrival  of  Alva  in  Flanders. 
His   extirpation   of  heresy   there   would   prove   the   prelude  for  his 


VII,] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


389 


co-operation  with  the  Guises  in  the  extirpation  df  heresy  in  France. 
Without  counting,  too,  this  future  danger,  the  triumph  of  Catholicism 
and  the  presence  of  a  Catholic  army  in  a  country  so  closely  connected 
with  England  at  once  revived  the  dreams  of  a  Catholic  rising  against 
her  throne  ;  while  the  news  of  Alva's  massacres  stirred  in  every  one  of 
her  Protestant  subjects  a  thirst  for  revenge  which  it  was  hard  to  hold 
in  check.  Yet  to  strike  a  blow  at  Alva  was  impossible,  for  Antwerp 
was  the  great  mart  of  English  trade,  and  a  stoppage  of  the  trade  with 
Flanders,  such  as  war  would  bring  about,  would  have  broken  half  the 
merchants  in  London.  Every  day  was  deepening  the  perplexities  of 
Elizabeth,  when  Mary  succeeded  in  making  her  escape  from  Lochleven. 
Defeated  at  Langside,  where  the  energy  of  Murray  promptly  crushed 
the  rising  of  the  Catholic  nobles  in  her  support,  she  abandoned  all 
hope  of  Scotland  ;  and  changing  her  designs  with  the  rapidity  of 
genius,  she  pushed  in  a  light  boat  across  the  Solway,  and  was  safe 
before  evening  fell  in  the  castle  of  Carlisle.  The  presence  of  Alva 
in  Flanders  was  a  far  less  peril  than  the  presence  of  Mary  in  Carlisle. 
To  retain  her  in  England  was  to  furnish  a  centre  for  revolt  ;  Mary 
herself  indeed  threatened  that  "  if  they  kept  her  prisoner  they  should 
have  enough  to  do  with  her."  Her  ostensible  demand  was  for  English 
aid  in  her  restoration  to  the  throne,  or  for  a  free  passage  to  France :  but 
compliance  with  the  last  request  would  have  given  the  Guises  a  terrible 
weapon  against  Elizabeth  and  have  ensured  a  new  French  intervention 
in  Scotland,  while  to  restore  her  by  arms  to  the  crown  she  had  lost 
was  impossible.  Till  Mary  was  cleared  of  guilt,  Murray  would  hear 
nothing  of  her  return,  and  Mary  refused  to  submit  to  such  a  trial  as 
would  clear  her.  So  eager,  however,  was  Elizabeth  to  get  rid  of  the 
pressing  peril  of  her  presence  in  England,  that  Mary's  refusal  to  submit 
to  any  trial  only  drove  her  to  fresh  devices  for  her  restoration.  She 
urged  upon  Murray  the  suppression  of  the  graver  charges,  and  upon 
Mary  the  leaving  Murray  in  actual  possession  of  the  royal  power  as 
the  price  of  her  return.  Neither  however  would  listen  to  terms  which 
sacrificed  both  to  Elizabeth's  self-interest  ;  the  Regent  persisted  in 
charging  the  Queen  with  murder  and  adultery,  while  Mary  refused 
either  to  answer  or  to  abdicate  in  favour  of  her  infant  son.  The 
triumph  indeed  of  her  bold  policy  was  best  advanced,  as  the  Queen  of 
Scots  had  no  doubt  foreseen,  by  simple  inaction.  Her  misfortunes, 
her  resolute  denials,  were  gradually  wiping  away  the  stain  of  her  guilt, 
and  winning  back  the  Catholics  of  England  to  her  cause.  Elizabeth 
"had  the  wolf  by  the  ears,"  while  the  fierce  contest  which  Alva's 
presence  roused  in  the  Netherlands  and  in  France  was  firing  the 
temper  of  the  two  great  parties  in  England. 

In  the  Court,  as  in  the  country,  the  forces  of  progress  and  of 
resistance  stood  at  last  in  sharp  and  declared  opposition  to  each  other. 
Cecil  at  the   head  of  the  Protestants  demanded   a  general  alliance 


390 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  IV. 

England 

AND  Makv 

Stuart 

1560 

TO 

157A 


Bull  of  De- 
position 

1569 


^i 


1570 


with  the  Protestant  churches  throughout  Europe,  a  war  in  the  Low 
Countries  against  Alva,  and  the  unconditional  surrjnder  of  Mary  to 
her  Sjotch  subjects  for  the  punishment  she  deserved.  The  Catholics 
on  the  other  hand,  backed  by  the  mass  of  the  Conservative  party  with 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  at  its  head,  and  supported  by  the  wealthier  mer- 
chants who  dreaded  the  ruin  of  the  Flemish  trade,  were  as  earnest  in 
demanding  the  dismissal  of  Cecil  and  the  Protestants  from  the  council- 
board,  a  steady  peace  with  Spain,  and,  though  less  openly,  a  recognition 
of  Mary's  succession.  Elizabeth  was  driven  to  temporize  as  before. 
She  refused  Cecil's  counsels  ;  but  she  sent  money  and  arms  to  Cond^, 
and  hampered  Alva  by  seizing  treasure  on  its  way  to  him,  and  by 
pushing  the  quarrel  even  to  a  temporary  embargo  on  shipping  either 
side  the  sea.  She  refused  the  counsels  of  Norfolk  ;  but  she  would  hear 
nothing  of  a  declaration  of  war,  or  give  any  judgement  on  the  charges 
against  the  Scottish  Queen,  or  recognize  the  accession  of  James  in  her 
stead.  The  effect  of  Mary's  presence  in  England  was  seen  in  conspiracies 
of  Norfolk  with  the  Northern  Earls  and  with  Spain.  Elizabeth,  roused  to 
her  danger,  struck  quick  and  hard.  Mary  Stuart  was  given  in  charge 
to  Lord  Huntingdon.  Arundel,  Pembroke,  and  Lumley  were  secured, 
and  Norfolk  sent  to  the  Tower.  But  the  disasters  of  the  Huguenots  in 
France,  and  the  news  brought  by  a  papal  envoy  that  a  Bull  of  Deposition 
against  Elizabeth  was  ready  at  Rome,  goaded  the  great  Catholic 
lords  to  action,  and  brought  about  the  rising  of  the  houses  of  Neville 
and  of  Percy.  The  entry  of  the  Earls  of  Northumberland  and  West- 
moreland into  Durham  proved  the  signal  for  revolt.  The  Bible  and 
Prayer-book  were  torn  to  pieces,  and  Mass  said  once  more  at  the  altar 
of  Durham  Cathedral,  before  the  Earls  pushed  on  to  Doncastcr  with  an 
army  which  soon  swelled  to  thousands  of  men.  Their  cry  was  "  to  re- 
duce all  causes  of  religion  to  the  old  custom  and  usage  ; "  and  the  Earl 
of  Sussex,  her  general  in  the  north,  wrote  frankly  to  Elizabeth  that 
"there  were  not  ten  gentlemen  in  Yorkshire  that  did  allow  [approve] 
her  proceedings  in  the  cause  of  religion. '  But  he  was  as  loyal  as  he 
was  frank,  and  held  York  stoutly  while  the  Queen  ordered  Mary's  hasty 
removal  to  a  new  prison  at  Coventry.  The  storm  however  broke  as 
rapidly  as  it  had  gathered.  The  mass  of  the  Catholics  throughout  the 
country  made  no  sign  ;  and  the  Earls  no  sooner  halted  irresolute  in 
presence  of  this  unexpected  inaction  than  their  army  caught  the  panic 
and  dispersed.  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland  fled,  and  were 
followed  in  their  flight  by  Leonard  Dacres  of  Naworth,  while  their 
miserable  adherents  paid  for  their  disloyalty  in  bloodshed  and  ruin. 
The  ruthless  measures  of  repression  which  closed  this  revolt  were  the 
first  breach  in  the  clemency  of  Elizabeth's  rule.  But  they  were  signs 
of  terror  which  were  not  lost  on  her  opponents.  It  was  the  general 
inaction  of  the  Cathohcs  which  had  foiled  the  hopes  of  the  northern 
Earls  ;  and  Rome  now  did  its  best  to  stir  them  to  activity  by  publishing 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION 


391 


the  Bull  of  Excommunication  and  Deposition  against  the  Queen,  which 
had  been  secretly  issued  in  the  preceding  year,  and  was  found  nailed 
in  a  spirit  of  ironical  defiance  on  the  Bishop  of  London's  door.  The 
Catholics  of  the  north  withdrew  stubbornly  from  the  national  worship. 
Everywhere  the  number  of  recusants  increased.  Intrigues  were  busier 
than  ever.  The  regent  Murray  was  assassinated,  and  Scotland  plunged 
into  war  between  the  adherents  of  Mary  and  those  of  her  son.  From 
the  defeated  Catholics  Mary  turned  again  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  Conservative  peers.  Norfolk  had  acquiesced 
in  the  religious  compromise  of  the  Queen,  and  professed  himself  a  Pro- 
testant while  he  intrigued  with  the  Catholic  party.  He  trusted  to  carry 
the  English  nobles  with  him  in  pressing  for  his  marriage  with  Mary,  a 
marriage  which  should  seem  to  take  her  out  of  the  hands  of  French  and 
Catholic  intriguers,  to  makeheranEnglishwoman,and  to  settle  the  vexed 
question  of  the  succession  to  the  throne.  His  dreams  of  such  a  union 
with  Mary  in  the  preceding  year  had  been  detected  by  Cecil,  and 
checked  by  a  short  sojourn  in  the  Tower  ;  but  his  correspondence  with 
the  Queen  was  renewed  on  his  release,  and  ended  in  an  appeal  to  Philip 
for  the  intervention  of  a  Spanish  army.  At  the  head  of  this  appeal 
stood  the  name  of  Mary  ;  while  Norfolk's  name  was  followed  by  those 
of  many  lords  of  "  the  old  blood,"  as  the  prouder  peers  styled  them- 
selves ;  and  the  significance  of  the  request  was  heightened  by  gather- 
ings of  Catholic  refugees  at  Antwerp  round  the  fugitive  leaders  of  the 
Northern  Revolt.  Enough  of  these  conspiracies  was  discovered  to  rouse 
a  fresh  ardour  in  the  menaced  Protestants.  The  Parliament  met  to  pass 
an  act  of  attainder  against  the  Northern  Earls,  and  to  declare  the  intro- 
duction of  Papal  Bulls  into  the  country  an  act  of  high  treason.  The 
rising  indignation  against  Mary,  as  "the  daughter  of  Debate,  who  dis- 
cord fell  doth  sow,"  was  shown  in  a  statute,  which  declared  any  person 
who  laid  claim  to  the  Crown  during  the  Queen's  life-time  incapable  of 
ever  succeeding  to  it.  The  disaffection  of  the  Catholics  was  met  by 
imposing  on  all  magistrates  and  public  officers  the  obligation  of  sub- 
scribing to  the  Articles  of  Faith,  a  measure  which  in  fact  transferred 
the  administration  of  justice  and  public  order  to  their  Protestant 
opponents.  Meanwhile  Norfolk's  treason  ripened  into  an  elaborate 
plot.  Phihp  had  promised  aid  should  the  revolt  actually  break  out ; 
but  the  clue  to  these  negotiations  had  long  been  in  Cecil's  hands,  and 
before  a  single  step  could  be  taken  towards  the  practical  realization  of 
his  schemes  of  ambition,  they  were  foiled  by  Norfolk's  arrest.  With 
his  death  and  that  of  Northumberland,  who  followed  him  to  the  scaf- 
fold, the  dread  of  revolt  within  the  realm  which  had  so  long  hung 
over  England  passed  quietly  away.  The  failure  of  tje  two  attempts 
not  only  showed  the  weakness  and  disunion  of  the  party  of  dis- 
content and  reaction,  but  it  revealed  the  weakness  of  all  party 
feeling  before  the   rise  of  a   national   temper  which  was   springing 


392 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


naturally  out  of  the  peace  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  which  a  growing 
sense  of  danger  to  the  order  and  prosperity  around  it  was  fast  turning 
into  a  passionate  loyahy  to  the  Queen,  It  was  not  merely  against 
Cecil's  watchfulness  or  Elizabeth's  cunning  that  Mary  and  Philip 
and  the  Percies  dashed  themselves  in  vain ;  it  was  against  a  new 
England. 

Section  v.— The  England  of  Elixabeth. 

[Authorities. — For  our  constitutional  history  we  have  D'Ewes'  Journals  and 
Townshend's  "Journal  of  Parliamentary  Proceedings  from  1580  to  1601,"  the 
first  detailed  account  we  possess  of  the  proceedings  of  our  House  of  Commons. 
The  general  survey  given  by  Hallam  ("Constitutional  History")  is  as  judicious 
as  it  is  able.  Macpherson  in  his  "  Annals  of  Commerce"  gives  details  of  the 
expansion  of  English  trade  ;  and  Hakluyt's  •*  Collection  of  Voyages"  tells  of 
its  activity.  Some  valuable  details  are  added  by  Mr.  Froude.  The  general 
literary  history  is  given  by  Craik  (**  History  of  English  Literature"),  who  has 
devoted  a  separate  work  to  Spenser  and  his  times  ;  and  the  sober  but  narrow 
estimate  of  Mr.  Hallam  ("  Literary  History")  may  be  contrasted  with  the  more 
brilliant  though  less  balanced  comments  of  M.  Taine  on  the  writers  of  the 
Renascence.  A  crowd  of  biographers  mark  the  new  importance  of  individual 
life  and  action.] 

"  I  have  desired,"  Elizabeth  said  proudly  to  her  Parliament,  "to 
have  the  obedience  of  my  subjects  by  love,  and  not  by  compulsion." 
It  was  a  love  fairly  won  by  justice  and  good  government.  Buried  as 
she  seemed  in  foreign  negotiationsand  intrigues,  Elizabeth  was  above 
all  an  English  sovereign.  She  devoted  herself  ably  and  energetically 
to  the  task  of  civil  administration.  At  the  first  moment  of  relief  from 
the  pressureof  outer  troubles,  she  faced  thetwo  main  causesof  internal 
disorder.  The  debasement  of  the  coinage  was  brought  to  an  end  in 
1560.  In  1 561  a  commission  was  issued  to  inquire  into  the  best  means 
of  facing  the  problem  of  social  discontent.  Time,  and  the  natural 
development  of  new  branches  of  industry,  were  working  quietly  for 
the  relief  of  the  glutted  labour-market ;  but  a  vast  mass  of  disorder 
still  existed  in  England,  which  found  aconstantgroundof  resentment 
in  the  enclosures  and  evictions  which  accompanied  the  progress  of 
agricultural  change.  It  was  on  this  host  of "  broken  men  "  that  every 
rebellion  could  count  for  support;  their  mere  existence  indeed  was  an 
encouragement  to  civil  war;  while  in  peace  their  presence  was  felt  in 
the  insecurity  of  life  and  property,  in  gangs  of  marauders  which  held 
whole  counties  in  terror, andin "sturdy  beggars  "  whostripped travel- 
lers on  the  road.  Under  Elizabeth  as  under  her  predecessors  the 
terrible  measures  of  repression,  whose  uselessness  More  had  in  vain 
pointed  out,  went  pitilessly  on  :  we  find  the  magistrates  of  Somerset- 
shire capturing  a  gang  of  a  hundred  at  a  stroke,  hanging  fifty  at  once 
on  the  gallows,  and  complaining  bitterly  to  the  Council  of  the  neces- 
sity for  waiting  till  the  Assizes  before  theycouldenjoy  the  specucle  of 


l^II.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


393 


the  fifty  others  hanging  beside  them.  But  the  Government  were 
deahng  with  the  difficulty  in  a  wiser  and  more  effectual  way.  The 
old  powers  to  enforce  labour  on  the  idle  and  settlement  on  the  va.f^rant 
class  were  continued  ;  and  each  town  and  parish  was  held  responsible 
for  the  relief  cf  its  indigent  and  disabled  poor,  as  well  as  for  the  em- 
ployment of  able-bodied  mendicants.  But  a  more  efficient  machinery 
was  gradually  devised  for  carrying  out  the  relief  and  employment  of 
the  poor.  Funds  for  this  purpose  had  been  provided  by  the  collection 
3f  alms  in  church  ;  but  the  mayor  of  each  town  i.nd  ch  churchwardens 
of  each  country  parish  were  now  directed  to  draw  up  lists  of  all 
inhabitants  able  to  contribute  to  such  a  fund,  and  on  a  persistent 
refusal  the  justices  in  sessions  were  empowered  to  assess  the  offender 
at  a  fitting  sum  and  to  enforce  its  payment  by  imprisonment.  The 
principles  embodied  in  these  measures,  that  of  local  responsibility  for 
local  distress,  and  that  of  a  distinction  between  the  pauper  and  the  vaga- 
bond, were  more  clearly  defined  in  a  statute  of  1572.  By  this  Act  the 
justices  in  the  country  districts  nd  mayors  and  other  officers  in  towns 
were  directed  to  register  the  impotent  poor,  to  settle  them  in  fitting 
habitations  and  to  assess  all  inhabitants  for  their  support.  Overseers 
were  appointed  to  enforce  and  superintend  their  labour,  for  which 
wool,  hemp,  flax,  or  other  stuff  was  to  be  provided  at  the  expense  of 
the  inhabitants  ,  and  houses  of  correction  were  established  in  every 
county  for  obstinate  vagabonds  or  for  paupers  refusing  to  work  at  the 
overseer's  bidding.  A  subsequent  Act  transferred  to  these  overseers 
the  collection  of  the  poor  rate,  and  powers  were  given  to  bind  poor 
children  as  apprentices,  to  erect  buildings  for  the  improvident  poor, 
and  to  force  the  parents  and  children  of  such  paupers  to  maintain 
them.  The  well-known  Act  which  matured  and  finally  established 
this  system,  the  43rd  of  Elizabeth,  remained  the  base  of  our  system  of 
pauper-administration  until  a  time  within  the  recollection  of  living 
men.  Whatever  flaws  a  later  experience  has  found  in  these  measures, 
their  wise  and  humane  character  formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
legislation  which  had  degraded  our  statute-boo'c  from  the  date  of  the 
Statute  of  Labourers  ;  and  their  efficacy  at  the  time  was  proved  by 
the  cessation  of  the  social  danger  against  which  they  were  intended 
lO  provide. 

Its  cessation  however  was  owing,  not  merely  to  law,  but  to  the  natural 
growth  of  wealth  and  industry  throughout  the  country.  The  change  in 
the  rr>ode  of  cultivation,  whatever  social  embarrassment  it  might  bri^g 
about,  undoubtedly  favoured  production.  Not  only  was  a  larger  capital 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  land,  but  the  mere  change  in  the  system  intro- 
duced a  taste  for  new  and  better  modes  of  agriculture ;  the  breed  of  horses 
and  of  cattle  was  improved,  and  a  far  greater  use  made  of  manure  and 
dressings  One  acre  under  the  new  system  produced,  it  was  said,  as 
mu-h  as  two  under  the  old.      As  a  more  careful  and  constant  cultivation 


394 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


was  introduced,  a  greater  number  of  hands  were  required  on  every  farm ; 
and  much  of  the  surplus  labour  which  had  been  flung  off  the  land  in  the 
commencement  of  the  new  system  was  thus  recalled  to  it.  But  a  far 
more  efficient  agency  in  absorbing  the  unemployed  was  found  in  the  de- 
velopement  of  manufactures.  The  linen  trade  was  as  yet  of  small  value, 
and  that  of  silk-weaving  was  only  just  introduced.  But  the  woollen 
manufacture  was  fast  becoming  an  important  element  in  the  national 
wealth.  England  no  longer  sent  her  fleeces  to  be  woven  in  Flanders  and 
to  be  dyed  at  Florence.  The  spinning  of  yarn,  the  weaving,  fulling,  and 
dyeing  of  cloth,  w.is  spreading  rapidly  from  the  towns  over  the  country- 
side. The  worsted  trade,of  which  Norwich  was  the  centre,  extended  over 
the  whole  of  the  Eastern  counties.  Farmers'  wives  began  everywhere  to 
spin  their  wool  from  their  own  sheep's  backs  into  a  coarse  "home-spun." 
The  South  and  the  West,  however,  still  remained  the  great  seats  of  in- 
dustry and  of  wealth,  for  they  were  the  homes  of  mining  and  manufactur- 
ing activity.  The  iron  manufactures  were  limited  to  Kent  and  Sussex, 
though  their  prosperity  in  this  quarter  was  already  threatened  by  the 
growing  sc  ircity  of  the  wood  which  fed  their  furnaces,  and  bj  the  exhaus- 
tion of  the  forests  of  the  Weald.  Cornwall  was  then,  as  now,  the  sole 
exporter  of  tin  ;  and  the  exportation  of  its  copper  was  just  beginning.  The 
broadcloths  of  the  West  claimed  the  palm  among  the  woollen  stuffs  of 
England.  The  Cinque  Ports  held  almost  a  monopoly  of  the  commerce 
of  the  Channel.  Every  little  harbour  from  the  Foreland  to  the  Land's 
End  ^ent  out  its  fleet  of  fishint^-boats,  manned  with  the  bold  seamen  who 
were  to  furnish  crews  for  Drake  and  the  Buccaneers.  But  in  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth  the  poverty  and  inaction  to  which  the  North  had  been 
doomed  for  so  many  centuries  began  at  last  to  be  broken.  We  see  the 
first  signs  of  the  revolution  which  has  transferred  English  manufactures 
and  English  wealth  to  the  north  of  the  Mersey  and  the  H umber  in  the 
mention  which  now  meets  us  of  the  friezes  of  Manchester,  the  coverlets 
of  York,  the  cutlery  of  Sheffield,  and  the  cloth  trade  of  Halifax. 

The  growth  however  of  English  commerce  far  outstripped  that  of  its 
manufactures.  We  must  not  judge  of  it,  indeed,  by  any  modem  stan- 
dard ;  for  the  whole  population  of  the  country  can  hardly  have  exceeded 
five  or  six  millions,  and  the  burthen  of  all  the  vessels  engaged  in  ordi- 
nary commerce  was  estimated  at  little  more  than  fifty  thousand  tons. 
The  size  of  the  ve  sels  employed  in  it  would  nowadays  seem  insignifi- 
cant;  a  modern  collier  brig  is  probably  as  large  as  the  biggest  mer- 
chant vessel  which  then  sailed  from  the  port  of  London.  But  it  was 
under  Elizabeth  that  English  commerce  began  the  rapid  career  of 
developement  which  has  made  us  the  carriers  of  the  world.  The 
foundation  of  the  Roy.d  Exchanj^e  by  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  was  a 
mark  of  the  commercial  progress  of  the  time.  By  far  the  most  im- 
portant branch  of  our  trade  was  with  F'landers  ;  Antwerp  and  <  ruges 
were  in  fact  the  general  marts  of  the  world  in  the  early  part  of  the 


MI.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


395 


sixteenth  century,  and  the  annual  export  of  English  wool  and  drapery 
to  their  markets  was  estimated  at  a  sum  of  more  than  two  millions 
in  value.  It  was  with  the  ruin  of  Antwerp  at  the  time  of  its  siege  and 
capture  by  the  Duke  of  Parma  that  the  commercial  supremacy  of  our 
own  capital  was  first  established.  A  third  of  the  merchants  and  manu- 
facturers of  the  ruined  city  are  said  to  have  found  a  refuge  on  the  banks 
of  the  Thames.  The  export  trade  to  Flanders  died  away  as  London 
developed  into  the  general  mart  of  Europe,  where  the  gold  and  sugar  of 
the  New  World  were  found  side  by  side  with  the  cotton  of  India,  the  silks 
of  the  East,  and  the  woollen  stuffs  of  England  itself.  Not  only  was 
much  of  the  old  trade  of  the  world  transferred  by  this  change  to 
English  shores,  but  the  sudden  burst  of  national  vigour  found  new  out- 
lets for  its  activity.  The  Venetian  carrying  fleet  still  touched  at  South- 
ampton ;  but  as  far  back  as  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Seventh  a  com- 
mercial treaty  had  been  concluded  with  Florence,  and  the  trade  with 
the  Mediterranean  which  had  begun  under  Richard  the  Third  constantly 
took  a  wider  developement.  The  trade  between  England  and  the  Baltic 
ports  had  hitherto  been  concluded  by  the  Hanseatic  merchants  ;  but  the 
extinction  at  this  time  of  their  London  depot,  the  Steel  Yard,  was  a  sign 
that  this  trade  too  had  now  passed  into  English  hands.  The  growth  of 
Boston  and  Hull  marked  an  increase  of  commercial  intercourse  with 
Scandinavia.  The  prosperity  of  Bristol,  which  depended  in  great 
measure  on  the  trade  with  Ireland,  was  stimulated  by  the  conquest  and 
colonization  of  that  island  at  the  close  of  the  Queen's  reign  and  the 
beginning  of  her  successor's.  The  dream  of  a  northern  passage  to 
India  opened  up  a  trade  with  a  land  as  yet  unknown.  Of  three  ships 
which  sailed  under  Hugh  Willoughby  to  realize  this  dream,  two  were 
found  afterwards  frozen  with  their  crews  and  their  hapless  commander 
on  the  coast  of  Lapland  ;  but  the  third,  under  Richard  Chancellor, 
made  its  way  safely  to  the  White  Sea  and  by  its  discovery  of  Archangel 
created  the  trade  with  Russia. '  A  more  lucrative  traffic  had  already 
begun  with  the  coast  of  Guinea,  to  whose  gold-dust  and  ivory  the 
merchants  of  Southampton  owed  their  wealth.  The  guilt  of  the  Slave 
Trade  which  sprang  out  of  it  rests  with  John  Hawkins,  whose  arms  (a 
demi-moor,  proper,  bound  with  a  cord)  commemorated  his  priority  in 
the  transport  of  negroes  from  Africa  to  the  labour-fields  of  the  New 
World.  The  fisheries  of  the  Channel  and  the  German  Ocean  gave  oc- 
cupation to  the  numerous  ports  which  lined  the  coast  from  Yarmouth 
to  Plymouth  Haven;  Bristol  and  Chester  were  rivals  in  the  fisheries  of 
Ulster;  and  the  voyage  of  Sebastian  Cabot  from  the  former  port  to  the 
mainland  of  North  America  had  called  English  vessels  to  the  stormy 
ocean  of  the  North.  From  the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  the  number 
of  English  boats  engaged  on  the  cod-banks  of  Newfoundland  steadily 
increased,  and  at  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign  the  seamen  of  Biscay 
found  English  rivals  in  the  whale-fishery  of  the  Polar  seas. 


396 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


Sec.  V. 

The 
England 

OF 

Elizabeth 

TVealth 

and 

Social 

Prosrress 


What  Elizabeth  contributed  to  this  upgrowth  of  national  prosperity 
was  the  peace  and  social  order  from  which  it  sprang,  and  the  thrift 
which  spared  the  purses  of  her  subjects  by  enabling  her  in  ordinary 
times  to  content  herself  with  the  ordinary  resources  of  the  Crown. 
She  lent,  too,  a  ready  patronage  to  the  new  commerce,  she  shared  in 
its  speculations,  she  considered  its  extension  and  protection  as  a  part 
of  public  policy,  and  she  sanctioned  the  formation  of  the  great  Merchant 
Companies  which  could  then  alone  secure  the  trader  against  wrong  or 
injustice  in  distant  countries.     The  Merchant-Adventurers  of  London, 
a  body  which  had  existed  long  before,  and  had  received  a  charter  of 
incorporation  under   Henry  the  Seventh,  furnished  a  model  for  the 
Russian  Company  and  the  Company  which  absorbed  the  ilew  commerce 
to  the  Indies.     But  it  was  not  wholly  with  satisfaction  that  either 
Elizabeth  or  her  ministers  watched  the  social  change  which  wealth  was 
producing  around  them.     They  feared  the  increased  expenditure  and 
comfort  which  necessarily  followed  it,  as  likely  to  impoverish  the  land 
and  to  eat  out  the  hardihood  of  the  people.    "  England  spendeth  more 
on  wines  in  one  year,"  complained  Cecil, "  than  it  did  in  ancient  times 
in  four  years."     The  disuse  of  salt-fish  and  the  greater  consumption 
of  meat  marked  the  improvement  which  was  taking  place  among  the 
country  folk.       Their   rough    and   wattled    farmhouses   were    being 
superseded  by  dwellings  of  brick  and  stone.      Pewter  was  replacing 
the  wooden  trenchers  of  the  earlier  yeomanry  ;  there  were  yeomen 
who  could  boast  of  a  fair  show  of  silver  plate.     It  is  from  this  period 
indeed  that  we  can  first  date  the  rise  of  a  conception  which  seems  to 
us  now  a  peculiarly  English  one,  the  conception  of  domestic  comfort. 
The  chimney-corner,  so  closely  associated  with  family  life,  came  into 
existence  with  the  general  introduction  of  chimneys,  a  feature  rare  in 
ordinary  houses  at  the  beginning  of  this  reign.     Pillows,  which  had 
before  been  despised   by  the  farmer  and  the  trader  as  fit  only  "  for 
women  in  child-bed,"  were  now  in  general  use.     Carpets  superseded 
the  filthy  flooring  of  rushes.      The  lofty  houses  of  the  wealthier  mer- 
chants, their  parapeted  fronts  and  costly  wainscoting,  their  cumbrous 
but  elaborate  beds,  their  carved  staircases,  their  quaintly  figured  gables, 
not  only  contrasted  with  the  squalor  which  had  till  then  characterized 
English  towns,  but  marked  the  rise  of  a  new  middle  class  which  was 
to  play  its  part  in  later  history.     A  transformation  of  an  even  more 
striking  kind  proclaimed  the  extinction  of  the  feudal  character  of  the 
noblesse.     Gloomy  walls  and  serried  battlements  disapjjcared  from 
the  dwellings  of  the  gentry.     The  strength  of  the  medieval  fortress 
gave  way  to  the  pomp  and  grace  of  the  Elizabethan    Hall.     Knole, 
Longleat,  Burleigh  and   Hatfield,   Hardwick   and  Audlcy   End,  are 
familiar  instances  of  the  social  as  well  as  architectural  change  which 
covered   England  with  buildings  where  the  thought  of  defence  was 
abandoned  for  that  of  domestic  comfort  and  refinement.      We  still 


VII  J' 


THE  REFORMATION. 


397 


gaze  with  pleasure  on  their  picturesque  Hne  of  gables,  their  fretted 
fronts,  their  gilded  turrets  and  fanciful  vanes,  their  castellated  gate- 
ways, the  jutting  oriels  from  which  the  great  noble  looked  down  on 
his  new  Italian  garden,  on  its  stately  terraces  and  broad  flights  of 
steps,  its  vases  and  fountains,  its  quaint  mazes,  its  formal  walks,  its 
lines  of  yews  cut  into  grotesque  shapes  in  hopeless  rivalry  of  the 
cypress  avenues  of  the  South.  The  Italian  refinement  of  life  which 
told  on  pleasaunce  and  garden  told  on  the  remodelling  of  the  house 
within,  raised  the  principal  apartments  to  an  upper  floor — a  change  to 
which  we  owe  the  grand  staircases  of  the  time — surrounded  the  quiet 
courts  by; long  "galleries  of  the  presence,"  crowned  the  rude  hearth 
with  huge  chimney-pieces  adorned  with  fauns  and  cupids,  with  quaintly 
interlaced  monograms  and  fantastic  arabesques,  hung  tapestries  on 
the  walls,  and  crowded  each  chamtier  with  quaintly-carved  chairs  and 
costly  cabinets.  The  life  of  the  Middle  Ages  concentrated  itself  in 
the  vast  castle  hall,  where  the  baron  looked  from  his  upper  dais  on 
the  retainers  who  gathered  at  his  board.  But  the  great  households 
were  fast  breaking  up  ;  and  the  whole  feudal  economy  disappeared 
when  the  lord  of  the  household  withdrew  with  his  family  into  his 
"parlour"  or "  withdrawing-room," and  left  the  hall  to  his  dependents. 
The  prodigal  use  of  glass  became  a  marked  feature  in  the  domestic 
architecture  of  the  time,  and  one  whose  influence  on  the  general 
health  of  the  people  can  hardly  be  overrated.  Long  lines  of  windows 
stretched  over  the  fronts  of  the  new  manor  halls.  Every  merchant's 
house-  had  its  oriel.  "  You  shall  have  sometime^,"  Lord  Bacon 
grumbled,  "  your  houses  so  full  of  glass,  that  we  cannot  tell  where  to 
come  to  be  out  of  the  sun  or  the  cold."  But  the  prodigal  enjoyment 
of  light^3nd_sunshme  was  a  mark  of^jljie  tempef~bf  jiie-a^e. '  The 
lavisEness  of  a  new  wealth  united  with  a  lavishness  of  life,  a  love  of 
beauty,  of  colour,  of  display,  to  revolutionize  English  dress.  The 
Queen's  three  thousand  robes  were  rivalled  in  their  bravery  by  the 
slashed  velvets,  the  ruffs,  the  jewelled  purpoints  of  the  courtiers  around 
her.  Men  "  wore  a  manor  on  their  backs."  The  old  sober  notions  of 
thrift  melted  before  the  strange  revolutions  of  fortune  wrought  by  the 
New  World.  Gallants  gambled  away  a  fortune  at  a  sitting,  and 
sailed  off  to  make  a  fresh  one  in  the  Indies.  Visions  of  galleons 
loaded  to  the  brim  with  pearls  and  diamonds  and  ingots  of  silver, 
dreams  of  El  Dorados  where  all  was  of  gold,  threw  a  haze  of  prodi- 
gality and  profusion  over  the  imagination  of  the  meanest  seaman. 
The  wonders,  too,  of  the  New  World  kindled  a  burst  of  extravagant 
fancy  in  the  Old.  The  strange  medley  of  past  and  present  which 
distinguishes  its  masques  and  feastings  only  reflected  the  medley  of 
men's  thoughts.  Pedantry,  novelty,  the  allegory  of  Italy,  the  chivalry 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  mythology  of  Rome,  the  English  bear-fight, 
pastorals,  superstition,  farce,  all  took  their  turn  in  the  entertainment 


398 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ICHAP. 


which  Lord  Leicester  provided  for  the  Queen  at  Kenilworth.  A  "  wild 
man  "  from  the  Indies  chanted  her  praises,  and  Echo  answered  him. 
Elizabeth  turned  from  the  greetings  of  sibyls  and  giants  to  deliver  the 
enchanted  lady  from  her  tyrant "  Sans  Pitie."  Shepherdesses  welcomed 
her  with  carols  of  the  spring,  while  Ceres  and  Bacchus  poured  their 
corn  and  grapes  at  her  feet. 

It  was  to  this  turmoil  of  men's  minds,  this  wayward  luxuriance  and 
prodigality  of  fancy,  that  we  owe  the  revival  of  English  letters  under 
Elizabeth.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Renascence  found  vernaculai 
literature  all  but  dead,  poetry  reduced  to  the  doggrel  of  Skelton,  his- 
tory to  the  annals  of  Fabyan  or  Halle.  It  had  however  doncTTTttle  for 
English  letters!  The  overpowering  influence  of  the  new  models  both 
of  thought  and  style  which  it  gave  to  the  world  in  the  writers  of  Greece 
and  Rome  was  at  first  felt  only  as  a  fresh  check  to  the  dreams  of  any 
revival  of  English  poetry  or  prose.  Though  Englnnd  shared  more  chan 
any  European  country  in  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  results  of  the 
New  Learning,  its  literary  results  were  far  less  than  in  the  rest  of 
Europe,  in  Italy,  or  Germany,  or  France.  More  alone  ranks  among 
the  great  classical  scholars  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Classical  learn- 
ing indeed  all  but  perished  at  the  Universities  in  the  storm  of  the 
Reformation,  nor  did  it  revive  there  till  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign. 
Insensibly  however  the  influences  of  the  Renascence  fertilized  the  in- 
tellectual soil  of  England  for  the  rich  harvest  that  was  to  come.  The 
court  poetry  which  clustered  round  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  exotic  and  imi- 
tative as  it  was,'promised  a  new  life  for  English  verse.  The  growth 
of  grammar  schools  realized  the  dream  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  and 
brought  the  middle-classes,  from  the  squire  to  the  petty  tradesman, 
into  contact  with  the  masters  of  Greece  and  Rome.  The  love  of  travel, 
which  became  so  remarkable  a  characteristic  of  Elizabeth's  day, 
quickened  the  intelligence  of  the  wealthier  nobles.  "  Home-keeping 
youths,"  says  Shakspere  in  words  that  mark  the  time,  "have  ever 
homely  wits  ; "  and  a  tour  over  the  Continent  was  just  becoming  part 
of  the  education  of  a  gentleman.  Fairfax's  version  of  Tasso,  Harring- 
ton's  version  of  Ariosto,  were  signs  of  the  influence  which  the  litera- 
ture of  Italy,  the  land  to  which  travel  led  most  frequently,  exerted  on 
English  minds.  The  writers  of  Greece  and  Rome  began  at  last  to  tell 
upon  England  when  they  were  popularized  by  a  crowd  of  translations. 
Chapman's  noble  version  of  Homer  stands  high  above  its  fellows,  but 
all  the  greater  poets  and  historians  of  the  classical  world  were  turned 
into  English  before  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It  is  charac- 
teristic of  England  that  historical  literature  was  the  first  to  rise  from 
its  long  death,  though  the  form  in  which  it  rose  marked  the  difference 
■  between  the  world  in  which  it  had  perished  and  that  in  which  it  re- 
!  appeared.  During  the  Middle  Ages  the  world  had  been  without  a 
I  past,  save  the  shadowy  and  unknown  past  of  early  Rome  ;  and  annalist 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


399 


and  chronicler  told  the  story  of  the  years  which  went  before  as  a  pre- 
face to  his  tale  of  the  present  without  a  sense  of  any  difference  between 
them.  But  the  religious,  social,  and  political  change  which  had  passed 
over  England  under  the  New  Monarchy  broke  the  continuity  of  its 
life  ;  and  the  depth  of  the  rift  between  the  two  ages  is  seen  by  the  way 
in  which  History  passes,  on  its  revival  under  Elizabeth,  from  the 
mediaeval  form  of  pure  narrative  to  its  modern  form  of  an  investigation 
and  reconstruction  of  the  past.  The  new  interest  which  attached  to 
the  bygone  world  led  to  the  collection  oS  its  annals,  their  reprinting 
and  embodiment  in  an  English  shape.  It  was  his  desire  to  give  the 
Elizabethan  Church  a  basis  in  the  past,  as  much  as  any  pure  zeal  for 
letters,  which  induced  Archbishop  Parker  to  lead  the  way  in  the  first 
of  these  labours.  Tl.e  collection  of  historical  manuscripts  which,  fol- 
lowing in  the  track  of  Leland,  he  rescued  from  the  wreck  of  the 
monastic  libraries  created  a  school  of  antiquarian  imitators,  whose  re- 
search and  industry  have  preserved  for  us  almost  every  work  of  per- 
manent historical  value  which  existed  before  the  Dissolution  of  the 
Monasteries.  To  his  publication  of  some  of  our  earlier  chronicles  we 
owe  the  series  of  similar  publications  which  bear  the  names  of  Camden, 
Twy-.den,  and  Gale.  But  as  a  branch  of  literature,  English  History  in 
the  new  shape  which  we  have  noted  began  in  the  work  of  the  poet 
Daniel.  The  chronicles  of  Stowe  and  Speed,  who  preceded  him,  are 
simple  records  of  the  past,  often  copied  almost  literally  from  the  annals 
they  used,  and  utterly  without  style  or  arrangement ;  while  Daniel,  in- 
accurate and  superficial  as  he  is,  gave  his  story  a  literary  form  and 
embodied  it  in  a  pure  and  graceful  prose.  Two  larger  works  at  the 
close  of  Elizabeth's  reign^  the  "  History  of  the  Turks"  by  Knolles,  and 
Ralegh's  vast  but  unfinished  plan  of  the  "  History  of  the  World, ' 
showed  the  widening  of  historic  interest  beyond  the  merely  national 
bounds  to  which  it  had  hitherto  been  confined. 

A  far  higher  developement  of  our  literature  sprang  from  the  growing 
influence  which  Italy,  as  we  have  seen,  was  exerting,  partly  through 
travel  and  partly  through  its  poetry  and  romances,  on  the  manners  and 
taste  of  the  time.  Men  made  more  account  of  a  story  of  Boccaccio's, 
it  was  said,  than  of  a  story  from  the  Bible.  The  dress,  the  speech,  the 
manners  of  Italy  became  objects  of  almost  passionate  imitation,  and 
of  an  imitation  not  always  of  the  wisest  or  noblest  kind.  To  Ascham 
it  seem>^d  like  "  the  enchantment  of  Circe  brought  out  of  Italy  to 
mar  men's  manners  in  England."  "An  Italianate  Englishman,"  ran 
hv;  harder  proverb  of  Italy  itself,  "  is  an  incarnate  devn."  The  literary 
form  which  tl.is  imitation  took  seemed  at  any  rate  absurd.  John  Lyly, 
distinguished  both  as  a  dram:.tist  and  a  poet,  laid  aside  the  tradition 
of  English  style  for  a  style  modelled  on  the  decadence  of  Italian  prose. 
E^iphiiism,  as  the  new  fashion  has  been  styled  from  the  prose  romance 
of  Euphues  in  which  Lyly  originated  it,  is  best  known  to  modern 


400 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


readers  by  the  pitiless  caricature  in  which  Shakspere  quizzed  its 
pedantry,  its  affectation,  the  meaningless  monotony  of  its  far-fetched 
phrases,  the  absurditx_ofJ^^xtra  vacant  coRcetts. '  Its  representative, 
Armado  in  "  Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  Ts  "a  man  of  fire-new  words, 
fashion's  own  knight,"  "that  hath  a  mint  of  phrases  in  his  brain  ;  one 
whom  the  music  o!"  his  own  vain  tongue  doth  ravish  like  enchanting 
harmony."  But  its  very  extravagance  sprang  from  the  general  burst 
of  delight  in  the  new  resources  of  thought  and  language  vhich  litera- 
ture felt  to  be  at  its  disposal ;  and  the  new  sense  of  literary  beauty 
which  it  disclosed  in  its  affectation,  in  its  love  of  a  "mint  of  phrases*' 
and  the  "  music  of  its  own  vain  tongue,"  the  new  sense  of  pleasure  in 
delicacy  or  grandeur  of  phrase,  in  the  structure  and  arrangement  of 
sentences,  in  what  has  been  termed  the  atmosphere  of  words,  was  a 
sense  out  of  which  style  was  itself  to  spring.  For  a  time  Euphuism 
had  it  all  its  own  way.  Elizabeth  was  the  most  affected  and  detestable 
of  Euphuists  ;  and  '*  that  beauty  in  Co-.rt  which  could  not  parley 
Ephuism,"  a  courtier  of  Charles  the  First's  time  tells  us,  "  was  as  little 
regarded  as  she  that  now  there  speaks  not  French."  The  fashion 
however  passed  away,  but  the  "Arcadia"  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney  shows 
the  wonderful  advance  which  prose  had  made  under  its  iniluence. 
Sidney,  the  nephew  of  Lord  Leicester,  was  the  idol  of  his  time,  and 
perhaps  no  figure  reflects  the  age  more  fully  and  more  beautifully. 
Fair  as  he  was  brave,  quick  of  wit  as  of  affection,  no'  Ic  and  generous 
in  temper,  aear  to  Elizabeth  as  to  Spenser,  e  darling  of  the  court  and 
of  the  camp,  his  learning  and  his  genius  made  him  the  centre  q£jh& 
literary  world  which  was  springing  into  birth  on  English  soiT  He  had 
travelled~TirFrance^  and  Ualy^hewas  master  alike  of  the  older  learning 
and  L  the  new  discoveries  of  astronomy.  Bruno  dedicated  to  him  as 
to  a  friend  his  metaphysical  speculations  ;  he  was  familiar  with  the 
drama  of  Spain,  the  poems  of  Ronsard,  the  sonnets  of  Italy.  He 
combined  the  wisdom  of  a  grave  councillor  with  the  romantic  chivalry 
of  a  knight-errant.  "  I  never  heard  the  old  story  of  Percy  and 
Douglas."  he  says,  "  that  I  found  not  my  heart  moved  more  than  with 
a  trumpet."  He  flung  away  his  life  to  save  the  English  anny  in 
Flanders,  and  as  he  lay  dying  they  brought  a  cup  of  water  to  his 
fevered  lips.  He  bade  them  give  it  to  a  soldier  who  was  stretched  on 
the  ground  beside  him.  "  Thy  necessity,"  he  said,  *  is  greater  than 
mine."  The  whole  of  Sidney's  nature,  his  chivalry  and  his  learning, 
his  thirst  for  adventures,  his  tendency  to  extravagance,  .lis  freshness 
of  tone,  his  tenderness  and  childlike  simplicity  of  heart,  his  affectation 
and  false  sentiment,  his  keen  sense  of  pleasure  and  delitjht  pours 
itself  out  in  the  pastoral  medley,  forced,  tedious,  and  yet  strangely 
beautiful,  of  his  "  Arcadia."  In  his  "  Defence  of  Poetry  "  the  youthful 
exuberance  of  the  romancer  has  passed  into  the  earnest  vigour  .ind 
grandiose  stateliness  of  the  rhetorician.     But  whether  in  the  one  work 


VII.  J 


THE  REFORMATION. 


401 


^r  the  other,  the  flexibihty,  the  music,  the  luminous  clearness  of 
Sidney's  style  remains  the  same.  The  quickness  and  vivacity  of  English 
prose,  however,  was  first  dgyf loppr*  i"  *^f^  school  of  Italian  jmifatnr«; 
who  appearedLiB„XIuabetb^  later  }iftar&t     The   origin  of  English 


fiction  is  to  be^fbund_ia..the  tales  and  romances  with  which  Greene 
and~^asH"~crowded  the  market,  models  for  which  they  found  in 
the  Italian  novels.  The  brief  form  of  these  novelettes  soon  led 
to  the  appearance  of  the  "  pamphlet ; "  and  a  new  world  of  readers 
was  seen  in  the  rapidity  with  which  the  stories  or  scurrilous  libels 
which  passed  under  this  name  were  issued,  and  the  greediness  with 
which  they  were  devoured.  It  was  the  boast  of  Greene  that  in 
the  eight  years  before  his  death  he  had  produced  forty  pamphlets 
"  In  a  night  or  a  day  would  he  have  yarked  up  a  pamphlet,  as  well  as 
in  seven  years,  and  glad  was  that  printer  that  might  be  blest  to  pay 
him  dear  for  the  very  dregs  of  his  wit."  Modern  eyes  see  less 
of  the  wit  than  of  the  dregs  in  the  works  of  Greene  and  his  com- 
peers ;  but  the  attacks  which  Nash  directed  against  the  Puritans 
and  his  rivals  were  the  first  English  works  which  shook  utterly  off 
the  pedantry  and  extravagance  of  Euphuism.  In  his  lightness,  his 
facility,  his  vivacity,  his  directness  of  speech,  we  have  the  beginning 
of  popular  literature.  It  had  descended  from  the  closet  to  the  street, 
and  the  very  change  implied  that  the  street  was  ready  to  receive  it. 
The  abundance  indeed  of  printers  and  of  printed  books  at  the  close 
of  the  Queen's  reign  shows  that  the  world  of  readers  and  writers  had 
widened  far  beyond  the  small  circle  of  scholars  and  courtiers  with 
which  it  began.    // 

We  shall  haVor  to  review  at  a  later  time  the  great  poetic  burst  for 
which  this  intellectual  advance  was  paving  the  way,  and  the  moral  and 
religious  change  which  was  passing  over  the  country  through  the 
pro-jress  of  Puritanism.  But  both  the  intellectual  and  the  religious 
impulses  of  the  age  united  with  the  influence  of  its  growing  wealth  to 
revive  a  spirit  of  independence  in  the  nation  at  large,  a  spirit  which 
it  was  impossible  for  Elizabeth  to  understand,  but  the  strength  of 
which  her  wonderful  tact  enabled  her  to  feel.  Long  before  any  open 
conflict  arose  between  the  people  and  the  Crown,  we  see  her  instinc- 
tive perception  of  the  changes  which  were  going  on  round  her  in  the 
modifications,  conscious  or  unconscious,  which  she  introduced  into 
the  system  of  the  monarchy.  Of  its  usurpations  on  English  liberty 
she  abandoned  none.  But  she  curtailed  and  softened  down  almost  all. 
She  tampered,  as  her  predecessors  had  tampered,  with  personal 
freedom  ;  there  was  the  same  straining  of  statutes  and  coercion  of 
juries  in  political  trials  as  before,  and  an  arbitrary  power  of  imprison- 
ment was  still  exercised  by  the  Council.  The  duties  she  imposed  on 
cloth  and  sweet  wines  were  an  assertion  of  her  right  of  arbitrary 
taxation.      Proclamations  in  Council  constantly  assumed  the  force  of 


402 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


law.  In  one  part  of  her  policy  indeed  Elizabeth  seemed  to  fall  back 
from  the  constitutional  attitude  assumed  by  the  Tudor  sovereigns. 
Ever  since  Cromwell's  time  the  Parliament  had  been  convened  almost 
year  by  year  as  a  great  engine  of  justice  and  legislation,  but  Elizabeth 
recurred  to  the  older  jealousy  of  the  two  Houses  which  had  been  en- 
tertained by  Edward  the  Fourth,  Henry  the  Seventh,  and  Wolsey. 
Her  Parliaments  were  summoned  at  intervals  of  never  less  than  three, 
and  sometimes  of  five  years,  and  never  save  on  urgent  necessity. 
Practically  however  the  royal  power  was  wielded  with  a  caution  and 
moderation  that  showed  the  sense  of  a  gathering  difficulty  in  the  full 
exercise  of  it  The  ordinary  course  of  justice  was  left  undisturbed. 
The  jurisdiction  of  the  Council  was  asserted  almost  exclusively  over 
the  Catholics  ;  and  defended  in  their  case  as  a  precaution  against 
pressing  dangers.  The  proclamations  issued  were  temporary  in 
character  and  of  small  importance.  The  two  duties  imposed  were  so 
slight  as  to  pass  almost  unnoticed  in  the  general  satisfaction  at 
Elizabeth's  abstinence  from  internal  taxation.  She  abandoned  the 
benevolences  and  forced  loans  which  had  brought  home  the  sense  of 
tyranny  to  the  subjects  of  her  predecessors.  She  treated  the  Privy 
Seals,  which  on  emergencies  she  issued  for  advances  to  her  Exchequer, 
simply  as  anticipations  of  her  revenue  (like  our  own  Exchequer  Bills), 
and  punctually  repaid  them.  The  monopolies  with  which  she  fettered 
trade  proved  a  more  serious  grievance  ;  but  during  her  earlier  reign 
they  were  looked  on  as  a  part  of  the  system  of  Merchant  Associations, 
which  were  at  that  time  regarded  as  necessary  for  the  regulation  and 
protection  of  the  growing  commerce.  Her  thrift  enabled  her  in 
ordinary  times  of  peace  to  defray  the  current  expenses  of  the  Crown 
from  its  ordinary  revenues.  But  the  thrift  was  dictated  not  so  much 
by  economy  as  by  the  desire  to  avoid  summoning  fresh  Parliaments. 
The  Queen  saw  that  the  "management"  of  the  two  Houses,  so  easy  to 
Cromwell,  was  becoming  harder  every  day.  The  rise  of  a  new  nobility, 
enriched  by  the  spoils  of  the  Church  and  trained  to  political  life  by  the 
stress  of  events  around  them,  was  giving  fresh  vigour  to  the  Lords. 
The  increased  wealth  of  the  country  gentry,  as  well  as  their  growing 
desire  to  obtain  a  seat  in  the  Commons,  brought  about  the  cessation  at 
this  time  of  the  old  practice  of  payment  of  members  by  their  con- 
j-tituencies.  A  change  too  in  the  borough  representation,  which  had 
long  been  in  progress  but  was  now  for  the  first  time  legally  recognized, 
tended  greatly  to  increase  the  vigour  and  independence  of  the  Lower 
House.  The  members  for  boroughs  had  been  required  by  the  terms 
of  the  older  writs  to  be  chosen  from  the  body  of  the  burgesses  ;  and 
an  Act  of  Henry  the  Fifth  gave  this  custom  the  force  of  law.  But  the 
passing  of  the  Act  shows  that  the  custom  was  already  widely  infringed  ; 
and  by  the  time  of  Elizabeth  most  borough  seats  were  filled  by 
strangers,  often  nominees  of  the  great  landowners  round,  but  for  the 


VII. ] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


403 


most  part  men  of  wealth  and  blood,  whose  aim  in  entering  Parliament 
was  a  purely  political  one,  and  whose  attitude  towards  the  Crown  was 
far  bolder  and  more  independent  than  that  of  the  quiet  tradesmen  who 
preceded  them.  So  changed,  indeed,  was  the  tone  of  the  Commons, 
even  as  early  as  the  close  of  Henry's  reign,  that  Edward  and  Mary 
both  fell  back  on  the  prerogative  of  the  Crown  to  create  boroughs, 
and  summoned  members  from  fresh  constituencies,  which  were  often 
mere  villages,  and  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown.  But  this  "  pack- 
ing of  the  House"  had  still  to  be  continued  by  their  successor.  The 
large  number  of  such  members  whom  Elizabeth  called  into  the 
Commons,  sixty-two  in  all,  was  a  proof  of  the  increasing  difficulty 
which  the  Government  found  in  securing  a  working  majority. 

Had  Elizabeth  lived  in  quiet  times  her  thrift  would  have  saved  her 
from  the  need  of  summoning  Parliament  at  all.  But  the  perils  of  her 
reign  drove  her  to  renewed  demands  of  subsidies,  and  at  each  demand 
the  tone  of  the  Houses  rose  higher  and  higher.  Constitutionally  the 
policy  of  Cromwell  had  had  this  special  advantage,  that  at  the  very 
crisis  of  our  liberties  it  had  acknowledged  and  confirmed  by  repeated 
instances,  for  its  own  purposes  of  arbitrary  rule,  the  traditional  right 
of  Parliament  to  grant  subsidies,  to  enact  laws,  and  to  consider  and 
petition  for  the  redress  of  grievances.  These  rights  remained,  while 
the  power  which  had  turned  them  into  a  mere  engine  of  despotism 
was  growing  weaker  year  by  year.  Not  only  did  the  Parliament  of 
Elizabeth  exercise  its  powers  as  fully  as  the  Parliament  of  Cromv  -H, 
but  the  forces,  political  and  religious,  which  she  sought  stubbornly  to 
hold  in  check  pressed  on  irresistibly,  and  soon  led  to  the  claiming 
of  new  privileges.  In  spite  of  the  rarity  of  its  assembling,  in  sp..e  of 
high  words  and  imprisonment  and  dexterous  management,,  the  Parlia- 
ment quietly  gained  a  power  which,  at  her  accession,  the  Queen  could 
never  have  dreamed  of  its  possessing.  Step  by  step  the  Lower  House 
won  the  freedom  of  its  members  from  arrest  save  by  its  own  permission, 
the  right  of  punishing  and  expelling  members  for  crimes  committed 
within  the  House,  and  of  determining  all  matters  relating  to  elections. 
The  more  important  claim  of  freedom  of  speech  brought  on  a  series  of 
petty  conflicts  which  showed  EHzabeth's  instincts  of  despotism,  as  well 
as  her  sense  of  the  new  power  which  despotism  had  to  face.  In  the 
great  crisis  of  the  Darnley  marriage  Mr.  Dalton  defied  a  royal  prohibi- 
tion to  mention  the  subject  of  the  succession  by  denouncing  the  claim 
of  the  Scottish  Queen.  Elizabeth  at  once  ordered  him  into  arrest,  but 
the  Commons  prayed  for  leave  "  to  confer  upon  their  liberties,"  and 
the  Queen  ordered  his  release.  In  the  same  spirit  she  commanded 
Mr.  Strickland,  the  mover  of  a  bill  for  the  reform  of  the  Common 
Prayer,  to  appear  no  more  in  Parliament ;  but  as  soon  as  she  perceived 
the  House  was  bent  upon  his  restoration  the  command  was  withdrawn. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Commons  still  shrank  from  any  consistent 


404 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


repudiation  of  Elizabeth's  assumption  of  control  over  freedom  of 
speech.  The  bold  protest  of  Peter  Wentworth  against  it  was  met  by 
the  House  itself  with  his  committal  to  the  Tower:  and  the  yet  bolder 
question  which  he  addressed  to  a  later  Parliament,  "  Whether  this 
Council  is  not  a  place  for  every  member  of  the  same  freely  and  without 
control,  by  bill  or  speech,  to  utter  any  of  the  griefs  of  the  Common- 
wealth," brought  on  him  a  fresh  imprisonment  at  the  hands  of  the 
Council,  which  lasted  till  the  dissolution  of  the  Parliament  and  with 
which  the  Commons  declined  to  interfere.  But  while  vacillating  in  its 
assertion  of  the  rights  of  individual  speakers,  the  House  steadily 
asserted  its  claim  to  the  wider  powers  wh'^h  Cromwell's  policy  had 
given  to  Parliamentary  action.  In  theory  the  Tudor  statesmen  re- 
garded three  cardinal  subjects,  matters  of  trade,  matters  of  religion, 
and  matters  of  State,  as  lying  e  clusively  within  the  competence  of 
the  Crown.  But  in  actual  fact  such  subjects  had  been  treated  by 
Parliament  after  Parliament.  The  whole  religious  fabric  of  the  realm, 
the  very  title  of  Elizabeth,  rested  on  Parliamentary  statutes.  When  the 
Houses  petitioned  at  the  outset  of  her  reign  for  the  declaration  of  a 
successor  and  for  the  Queen's  marriage,  it  was  impossible  to  deny 
their  right  to  intermeddle  with  these  "  matters  of  State,"  though  she 
rebuked  the  demand  and  evaded  an  answer.  But  the  question  of 
the  succession  became  too  vial  to  English  freedom  and  English 
religion  to  remain  confined  within  Elizabeth's  council  chamber.  The 
Parliament  which  met  in  1566  repeated  the  demand  in  a  more  im- 
perative way.  Her  consciousness  of  the  real  dangers  of  such  a  request 
united  with  her  arbitrary  temper  to  move  Elizabeth  to  a  burst  of 
passionate  anger.  The  marriage  indeed  she  promised,  but  she 
peremptorily  forbade  the  subject  of  the  succession  to  be  approached. 
Wentworth  at  once  rose  in  the  Commons  to  know  whether  such  a 
prohibition  was  not  "  against  the  liberties  of  Parliament  ?  "  and  the 
question  was  followed  by  a  hot  debate.  A  fresh  message  from  the 
Queen  commanded  "that  there  should  be  no  further  argument," 
but  the  message  was  met  by  a  request  for  freedom  of  deliberation. 
Elizabeth's  prudence  taught  her  that  retreat  was  necessary  ;  she 
protested  that  "  she  did  not  mean  to  prejudice  any  part  of  the  liberties 
heretofore  granted  them  ;  "  she  softened  the  order  of  silence  into  a 
request ;  and  the  Commons,  won  by  the  graceful  concession  to  a  loyal 
assent,  received  her  message  "  most  joyfully  and  with  most  hearty 
prayers  and  thanks  for  the  same."  But  the  victory  was  none  the 
less  a  real  one.  No  such  struggle  had  taken  place  between  the 
Commons  and  the  Crown  since  the  beginning  of  the  New  Monarchy  ; 
and  the  strug-^le  had  ended  in  the  virtual  defeat  of  the  Crown.  It 
was  the  prelude  to  another  claim  equally  galling  to  the  Queen. 
Though  the  constitution  of  the  Church  rested  in  actual  fact  on  Parlia- 
mentary enactmentSj  Elizabeth,  like  the  rest  of  the  Tudor  sovereigns^ 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


405 


'heoretically  held  her  ecclesiastical  supremacy  to  be  a  purely  personal 
power,  with  her  administration  of  which  neither  Parliament  nor  even 
her  Council  had  any  right  to  interfere.  But  the  exclusion  of  the 
Catholic  gentry  through  the  Test  Acts,  and  the  growth  of  Puritanism 
among  the  landowners  as  a  class,  gave  more  and  more  a  Protestant 
tone  to  the  Commons  and  to  the  Council  ;  and  it  was  easy  to  re- 
member that  the  Supremacy  which  was  thus  jealously  guarded  from 
Parliamentary  interference  had  been  conferred  on  the  Crown  by  a 
Parliamentary  statute.  Here,  however,  the  Queen,  as  the  religious 
representative  of  the  two  parties  who  made  up  her  subjects,  stood  on 
firmer  ground  than  the  Commons,  who  represented  but  one  of  them. 
And  she  used  her  advantage  boldly.  The  bills  proposed  by  the  more 
advanced  Protestants  for  the  reform  of  the  Common  Prayer  were  at 
her  command  delivered  up  into  her  hands  and  suppressed.  Wentworth, 
the  most  outspoken  of  his  party,  was,  as  we  have  seen,  imprisoned  in 
the  Tower :  and  in  a  later  Parliament  the  Speaker  was  expressly  for- 
bidden to  receive  bills  "for  reforming  the  Church,  and  transforming 
the  Commonwealth."  In  spite  of  these  obstacles,  however,  the  effort 
for  reform  continued,  and  though  crushed  by  the  Crown  or  set  aside 
by  the  Lords,  ecclesiastical  bills  were  presented  in  every  Parliament 
A  better  fortune  awaited  the  Commons  in  their  attack  on  the  royal 
prerogative  in  matters  of  trade.  Complaints  made  of  the  licences  and 
monopolies  by  which  internal  and  external  commerce  were  fettered 
were  at  first  repressed  by  a  royal  reprimand  as  matters  neither  per- 
taining to  the  Commons  nor  within  the  compass  of  their  understanding. 
When  the  subject  was  again  stirred  nearly  twenty  years  afterwards, 
Sir  Edward  Hoby  was  sharply  rebuked  by  "  a  great  personage "  for 
his  complaint  of  the  illegal  exactions  made  by  the  Exchequer.  But 
the  bill  which  he  promoted  was  sent  up  to  the  Lords  in  spite  of  this, 
and  at  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign  the  storm  of  popular  indignation 
which  had  been  roused  by  the  growing  grievance  nerved  the  Commons 
to  a  decisive  struggle.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  ministers  opposed  the 
bill  for  the  Abolition  of  Monopolies,  and  after  four  days  of  vehement 
debate  the  tact  of  Elizabeth  taught  her  to  give  way.  She  acted  with 
her  usual  ability,  declared  her  previous  ignorance  of  the  existence  of 
the  evil,  thanked  the  House  for  its  interference,  and  quashed  at  a 
single  blow  every  monopoly  that  she  had  granted. 


Section  VI.    The  Armada.    1572—1588. 

[Authorities. — The  general  history  of  the  Catholics  is  given  in  the  w.  rk  of 
Dodd  ;  see  also  "The  Troubles  of  our  Cathohc  Forefathers,"  published  by 
Father  Morris;  and  for  the  Jesuits,  "More's  Historia  Provinciae  Anghcanae 
Societatis  Jesu  ;  "  to  these  may  be  added  Mr.  Simpson's  life  of  Campian.] 

The  wonderful  growth  in  wealth  and  social  energy  which  we  have 
described  was  accompanied  by  a  remarkable  change  in  the  religious 


4o6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


LCHAP. 


temper  of  the  nation.  Silently,  almost  unconsciously,  England  became 
Protestant,  as  the  traditionary  Catholicism  which  formed  the  religion 
of  three-fourths  of  the  people  at  the  Queen's  accession  died  quietly 
away.  At  the  close  of  her  reign  the  only  parts  of  England  where  the 
old  faith  retained  anything  of  its  former  vigour  were  the  north  and  the 
extreme  west,  at  that  time  the  poorest  and  least  populated  parts  of  the 
kingdom.  One  main  cause  of  the  change  lay  undoubtedly  in  the 
gradual  dying  out  of  the  Catholic  priesthood  and  the  growth  of  a  new 
Protestant  clergy  who  supplied  their  place.  The  older  parish  priests, 
though  they  had  almost  to  a  man  acquiesced  in  the  changes  of  ritual 
and  doctrine  which  the  various  phases  of  the  Reformation  imposed 
upon  them,  remained  in  heart  utterly  hostile  to  its  spirit.  As  Mary 
had  undone  the  changes  of  Edward,  they  hoped  for  a  Catholic  suc- 
cessor to  undo  the  changes  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  in  the  meantime  they 
were  content  to  wear  the  surplice  instead  of  the  chasuble,  and  to  use 
the  Communion-office  instead  of  the  Mass-book.  Hut  if  they  were 
forced  to  read  the  Homilies  from  the  pulpit,  the  spirit  of  their  teaching 
remained  unchanged  ;  and  it  was  easy  for  them  to  cast  contempt  on 
the  new  services,  till  they  seemed  to  old-fashioned  worshippers  a  mere 
"  Christmas  game."  But  the  lapse  of  twenty  years  did  its  work  in 
emptying  parsonage  after  parsonage  In  1579  the  Queen  felt  strong 
enough  to  enforce  for  the  first  time  a  general  compliance  with  the  Act 
of  Uniformity  ;  and  the  jealous  supervision  of  Parker  and  the  bishops 
ensured  an  inner  as  well  as  an  outer  conformity  to  the  established  faith 
in  the  clergy  who  took  the  place  of  the  dying  priesthood.  The  new 
parsons  were  for  the  most  part  not  merely  Protestant  in  belief  and 
teaching,  but  ultra-Protestant.  The  old  restrictions  on  the  use  of  the 
pulpit  were  silently  removed  as  the  need  for  them  passed  away,  and  the 
zeal  of  the  young  ministers  showed  itself  in  an  assiduous  preaching 
which  moulded  in  their  own  fashion  the  religious  ideas  of  the  new 
generation.  But  their  character  had  even  a  greater  influence  than 
their  preaching.  Under  Henry  the  priests  had  for  the  most  part  been 
ignorant  and  sensual  men  ;  and  the  character  of  the  clergy  appointed 
by  the  greedy  Protestants  under  Edward  or  in  the  first  years  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign  was  even  worse  than  that  of  their  Catholic  rivals.  But  the 
energy  of  the  successive  Primates,  seconded  as  it  was  by  the  general 
increase  of  zeal  and  morality  at  the  time,  did  its  work  ;  and  by  the  close 
of  Elizabeth's  reign  the  moral  temper  as  well  as  the  social  character  of 
the  clergy  had  greatly  changed.  Scholars  like  Hooker  could  now  be 
found  in  the  ranks  of  the  priesthood,  and  the  grosser  scandals  which 
disgraced  the  clergy  as  a  body  for  the  most  part  disappeared.  It  was 
impossible  for  a  Puritan  libeller  to  bring  agiinst  the  ministers  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign  the  charges  of  drunkenness  and  immorality  which  Protest- 
ant libellers  had  been  able  to  bring  against  the  priesthood  of  Henry's. 
But  the  influence  of  the  new  clergy  was  backed  by  a  general  revolution 


VII.J 


THE  REFORMATION. 


407 


in  English  thought.  We  have  already  watched  the  first  upgrowth  of 
the  new  literature  which  was  to  find  its  highest  types  in  Shakspere  and 
Bacon.  The  grammar  schools  were  diffusin^^  a  new  knowledge  and 
mental  energy  through  the  middle  classes  and  among  the  country 
gentry.  The  tone  of  the  Universities,  no  unfair  test  of  the  tone  of  the 
nation  at  large,  changed  wholly  as  the  Queen' s  reign  went  on.  At  its 
opening  Oxford  was  "a  nest  of  Papists,"  and  sent  its  best  scholars  to 
feed  the  Catholic  seminaries.  At  its  close  the  University  was  a  hot- 
bed of  Puritanism,  where  the  fiercest  tenets  of  Calvin  reigned  supreme. 
The  movement  was  no  doubt  hastened  by  the  political  circumstances 
of  the  time.  Under  the  rule  of  Elizabeth  loyalty  became  more  and 
more  a  passion  among  Englishmen  ;  and  the  Bull  of  Deposition  placed 
Rome  in  the  forefront  of  Elizabeth's  foes.  The  conspiracies  which 
festered  around  Mary  were  laid  to  the  Pope's  charge  ;  he  was  known 
to  be  pressing  on  France  and  on  Spain  the  invasion  and  conquest  of 
the  heretic  kingdom  ;  he  was  soon  to  bless  the  Armada.  Every  day 
made  it  harder  for  a  Catholic  to  reconcile  Catholicism  with  loyalty  to 
his  Queen  or  devotion  to  his  country  ;  and  the  mass  of  men,  who  are 
moved  by  sentiment  rather  than  by  reason,  swung  slowly  round  to  the 
side  which,  whatever  its  religious  significance  might  be,  was  the  side 
of  patriotism,  of  liberty  against  tyranny,  of  England  against  Spain. 
A  new  impulse  was  given  to  this  silent  drift  of  religious  opinion  by  the 
atrocities  which  marked  the  Catholic  triumph  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Channel.  The  horror  of  Alva's  butcheries,  or  of  the  massacre  in  Paris 
on  vSt.  Bartholomew's  day,  revived  the  memories  of  the  bloodshed 
under  Mary.  The  tale  of  Protestant  sufferings  was  told  with  a  won- 
derful pathos  and  picturesqueness  by  John  Foxe,  an  exile  during  the 
persecution  ;  and  his  "  Book  of  Martyrs,"  which  was  set  up  by  royal 
order  in  the  churches  for  public  reading,  passed  from  the  churches 
to  the  shelves  of  every  English  household.  The  trading  classes  of 
the  towns  had  been  the  first  to  embrace  the  doctrines  of  the  Refor- 
mation, but  their  Protestantism  became  a  passion  as  the  refugees  of 
the  Continent  brought  to  shop  and  market  their  tale  of  outrage  and 
blood.  Thousands  of  Flemish  exiles  found  a  refuge  in  the  Cinque 
Ports,  a  third  of  the  Antwerp  merchants  were  seen  pacing  the  new 
London  Exchange,  and  a  Church  of  French  Huguenots  found  a  home 
which  it  still  retains  in  the  crypt  of  Canterbury  Cathedral. 

In  her  ecclesiastical  policy  Elizabeth  trusted  mainly  to  time  ;  and 
time,  as  we  have  seen,  justified  her  trust.  Her  system  of  compromise 
both  in  faith  and  worship,  of  quietly  replacing  the  old  priesthood 
as  it  died  out  by  Protestant  ministers,  of  wearying  recusants  into  at 
least  outer  conformity  with  the  state-religion  and  attendance  on  the 
state-services  by  fines— a  poHcy  aided,  no  doubt,  by  tha  moral 
influences  we  have  described— was  gradually  bringing  England  round 
to  a  new  religious  front.     But  the  decay  of  Catholicism  appealed 


4o8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


strongly  to  the  new  spirit  of  Catholic  zeal  which,  in  its  despair  of  aid 
from  Catholic  princes,  was  now  girding  itself  for  its  own  bitter  struggle 
with  heresy.  Dr.  Allen,  a  scholar  who  had  been  driven  from  Oxford 
by  the  test  prescribed  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  had  foreseen  the  results 
of  the  dying  out  of  the  Marian  priests,  and  had  set  up  a  seminary  at 
Douay  to  supply  their  place.  The  new  college,  liberally  supported 
by  the  Catholic  peers,  and  supplied  with  pupils  by  a  stream  of  refugees 
from  Oxford  and  the  English  grammar  schools,  soon  landed  its 
"  seminary  priests  "  on  English  shores  ;  and  few  as  they  were  at  first, 
their  presence  was  at  once  felt  in  the  check  which  it  gave  to  the  gradual 
reconciliation  of  the  Catholic  gentry  to  the  English  Church.  No 
check  could  have  been  more  galling  to  Elizabeth,  and  her  resentment 
was  quickened  by  the  sense  of  danger.  She  had  accepted  the  Bull  of 
Deposition  as  a  declaration  of  war  on  the  part  of  the  Papacy,  and  she 
viewed  the  Douay  priests  with  some  justice  as  its  political  emissaries. 
The  comparative  security  of  the  Catholics  from  active  persecution 
during  the  early  part  of  her  reign  had  arisen  partly  from  the  sympathy 
and  connivance  of  the  gentry  who  acted  as  justices  of  the  peace,  but 
still  more  from  her  own  religious  indifference.  But  the  Test  Act 
placed  the  magistracy  in  Protestant  hands  ;  and  as  Elizabeth  passed 
from  indifference  to  suspicion  and  from  suspicion  to  terror  she  put  less 
restraint  on  the  bigotry  around  her.  In  quitting  Euston  Hall,  which 
she  had  visited  in  one  of  her  pilgrimages,  the  Queen  gave  its  master, 
young  Rookwood,  thanks  for  his  entertainment  and  her  hand  to 
kiss.  "But  my  Lord  Chamberlain  nobly  and  gravely  understand- 
ing that  Rookwood  was  excommunicate "  for  non-attendance  at 
church,  "called  him  before  him,  demanded  of  him  how  he  durst 
presume  to  attempt  her  royal  presence,  he  unfit  to  accompany  any 
Christian  person,  forthwith  said  that  he  was  fitter  for  a  pair  of  stocks, 
commanded  him  out  of  Court,  and  yet  to  attend  the  Council's  plea- 
sure." The  Council's  pleasure  was  seen  in  his  comnnttal  to  the 
town  prison  at  Norwich,  while  "  seven  more  gentlemen  of  worship" 
were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  with  a  simple  sentence  of  arrest  at 
their  own  homes.  The  Queen's  terror  became  a  panic  in  the  nation 
at  large.  The  few  priests  who  landed  from  Douay  were  multiplied 
into  an  army  of  Papal  emissaries  despatched  lo  sow  treason  and 
revolt  throughout  the  land.  Parliament,  which  the  working  of  the 
Test  Act  had  made  a  wholly  Protestant  body,  save  for  the  presence 
of  a  few  Catholics  among  the  peers,  was  summoned  to  meet  the  new 
danger,  and  declared  the  landing  of  these  priests  and  the  harbouring 
of  them  to  be  treason. 

The  Act  proved  no  idle  menace  ;  and  the  execution  of  Cuthbert 
Mayne,  a  young  priest  who  was  arrested  in  Cornwall  with  the  Papal  Bull 
of  Deposition  hidden  about  him,  gave  a  terrible  indication  of  the  cha- 
racter of  the  struggle  upon  which  Elizabeth  was  about  to  enter.     She 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


409 


was  far,  indeed,  from  any  purpose  of  religious  persecution  ;  she  boasted 
of  her  abstinence  from  any  interference  with  men's  consciences  ;  and 
Cecil,  in  his  official  defence  of  her  policy,  while  declaring  freedom  of 
worship  to  be  incompatible  with  religious  order,  boldly  asserted  the  right 
of  every  English  subject  to  perfect  freedom  of  religious  opinion.  To 
modern  eyes  there  is  something  even  more  revolting  than  open  per- 
secution in  the  policy  which  branded  every  Catholic  priest  as  a  traitor, 
and  all  Catholic  worship  as  disloyalty  ;  but  the  first  step  towards 
toleration  was  won  when  the  Queen  rested  her  system  of  repression  on 
purely  political  grounds.  If  Elizabeth  was  a  persecutor,  she  was  the 
first  English  ruler  who  felt  the  charge  of  religious  persecution  to 
be  a  stigma  on  her  rule.  Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  there  was  a  real 
political  danger  in  the  new  missionaries.  Allen  was  a  restless  con- 
spirator, and  the  work  of  his  seminary  priests  was  meant  to  aid  a 
new  plan  of  the  Papacy  for  the  conquest  of  England  And  to  the 
efforts  of  the  seminary  prjests  were  now  added  those  of  Jesuit 
missionaries.  A  select  few  of  the  Oxford  refugees  at  Douay  joined 
the  order  of  the  Jesuits,  whose  members  were  already  famous  for  their 
blind  devotion  to  the  will  and  judgements  of  Rome ;  and  the  two 
ablest  and  most  eloquent  of  these  exiles,  Campian,  once  a  fellow  of  St. 
John's,  and  Parsons,  once  a  fellow  of  Balliol,  were  chosen  as  the 
heads  of  a  Jesuit  mission  in  England.  For  the  moment  their  success 
was  amazing.  The  eagerness  shown  to  hear  Campian  was  so  great 
that  in  spite  of  the  denunciations  of  the  Government  he  was  able  to 
preach  with  hardly  a  show  of  concealment  to  a  large  audience  at 
Smithfield.  From  London  the  missionaries  wandered  in  the  disguise 
of  captains  or  serving-men,  sometimes  even  in  the  cassock  of  the 
English  clergy,  through  many  of  the  counties  ;  and  wherever  they 
went  the  zeal  of  the  Catholic  gentry  revived.  The  list  of  nobles  re- 
conciled to  the  old  faith  by  these  wandering  apostles  was  headed  by 
the  name  of  Lord  Oxford,  Cecil's  own  son-in-law  and  the  proudest 
among  English  peers 

The  success  of  the  Jesuits  in  undoing  EHzabeth's  work  of  com- 
promise was  shown  in  a  more  public  way  by  the  growing  withdrawal 
of  the  Catholics  from  attendance  at  the  worship  of  the  English 
Church.  The  panic  of  the  Protestants  and  of  the  Parliament 
outran  even  the  real  greatness  of  the  danger.  The  little  group  of 
missionaries  was  magnified  by  popular  fancy  into  a  host  of  disguised 
Jesuits  ;  and  the  invasion  of  this  imaginary  host  was  met  by  the 
seizure  and  torture  of  as  many  priests  as  the  Government  could  lay 
hands  on,  the  imprisonment  of  recusants,  and  the  securing  of  the 
prominent  Catholics  throughout  the  country  ;  and  by  statutes  which 
prohibited  the  saying  of  Mass  even  in  private  houses,  increased  the 
fine  on  recusants  to  twenty  pounds  a  month,  and  enacted  that  "  all 
persons  pretending  to  any  power  of  absolving   subjects  from   their 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
Armada 

1572 

TO 

l«88 


1580 


The  Pro- 
testant 
Terror. 


1581 


4IO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


allegiance,  or  practising  to  withdraw  them  to  the  Romish  religion, 
with  all  persons  after  the  present  session  willingly  so  absolved  or 
reconciled  to  the  See  of  Rome,  shall  be  guilty  of  High  Treason." 
The  way  in  which  the  vast  powers  conferred  on  the  Crown  by 
this  statute  were  used  by  Elizabeth  was  not  only  characteristic 
in  itself,  but  important  as  at  once  defining  the  policy  to  which,  in 
theory  at  least,  her  successors  adhered  for  more  than  a  hundred  years. 
Few  laymen  were  brought  to  the  bar  and  none  to  the  block  under 
its  provisions.  The  oppression  of  the  Catholic  gentry  was  limited 
to  an  exaction,  more  or  less  rigorous  at  different  times,  of  the 
fines  for  recusancy  or  non-attendance  at  public  worship.  The  work 
of  bloodshed  was  reserved  wholly  for  priests,  and  under  Elizabeth 
this  work  was  done  with  a  ruthless  energy  which  for  the  moment 
crushed  the  Catholic  reaction.  The  Jesuits  were  tracked  by  pursui- 
vants and  spies,  dragged  from  their  hiding-places,  and  sent  in  batches 
to  the  Tower.  So  hot  was  the  pursuit  that  Parsons  was  forced 
to  fly  across  the  Channel ;  while  Campian  was  brought  a  prisoner 
through  the  streets  of  London  amidst  the  howling  of  the  mob,  and 
placed  at  the  bar  on  the  charge  of  treason.  "  Our  religion  only  is 
our  crime,"  was  a  plea  which  galled  his  judges  ;  but  the  political  danger 
of  the  Jesuit  preaching  was  disclosed  in  his  evasion  of  any  direct 
reply  when  questioned  as  to  his  belief  in  the  validity  of  the  excommu- 
nication and  deposition  of  the  (2ueen  by  the  Papal  See.  The  death  of 
Campian  was  the  prelude  to  a  steady,  pitiless  effort  at  the  extermina- 
tion of  his  class.  If  we  adopt  the  Catholic  estimate  of  the  time,  the 
twenty  years  which  followed  saw  the  execution  of  two  hundred  priests, 
while  a  yet  greater  number  perished  in  the  filthy  and  fever- stricken 
gaols  into  which  they  were  plunged.  The  work  of  reconciliation  to 
Rome  was  arrested  by  this  ruthless  energy  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  work  which  the  priests  had  effected  could  not  be  undone.  The 
system  of  quiet  compulsion  and  conciliation  to  which  Elizabeth  had 
trusted  for  the  religious  reunion  of  her  subjects  was  foiled  ;  and  the 
English  Catholics,  fined,  imprisoned  at  every  crisis  of  national  danger, 
and  deprived  of  their  teachers  by  the  prison  an  1  the  gibbet,  were 
severed  more  hopelessly  than  ever  from  the  national  Church.  A  fresh 
impulse  was  thus  given  to  the  growing  current  of  opinion  which  was 
to  bring  England  at  last  to  recognize  the  right  of  every  man  to  freedom 
both  of  conscience  and  of  worship.  What  Protestantism  had  first  done 
under  Mary,  Catholicism  was  doing  under  Elizabeth.  It  was  deepening 
the  sense  of  personal  religion.  It  was  revealing  in  men  who  had 
cowered  before  the  might  of  kingship  a  power  greater  than  the  might  of 
kings.  It  was  breaking  the  spell  which  the  monarchy  had  laid  on  the  im- 
agination of  the  people.  The  Crown  ceased  to  seem  irresistible  befort 
a  passion  for  religious  and  political  liberty  which  gained  vigour  from 
the  dungeon  of  the  Catholic  priest  as  from  that  of  the  Protestant  zealot 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


411 


But  if  a  fierce  religious  struggle  was  at  hand,  men  felt  that  behind 
this  lay  a  yet  fiercer  political  struggle.  Philip's  hosts  were  looming 
over  sea,  ai»%the  horrors  of  foreign  invasion  seemed  about  to  be  added 
to  the  horrors  of  civil  war.  Spain  was  at  this  moment  the  mightiest  of 
European  powers.  The  discoveries  of  Columbus  had  given  it  the 
New  World  of  the  West  ;  the  conquests  of  Cortes  and  Pizarro  poured 
mto  its  treasury  the  plunder  of  Mexico  and  Peru  ;  its  galleons  brought 
the  rich  produce  of  the  Indies,  their  gold,  their  jewels,  their  ingots  of 
silver,  to  the  harbour  of  Cadiz.  To  the  New  World  its  King  added 
the  fairest  and  wealthiest  portions  of  the  Old  ;  he  was  master  of 
Naples  and  Milan,  the  richest  and  the  most  fertile  districts  of  Italy  ; 
of  the  busy  provinces  of  the  Low  Countries,  of  Flanders,  the  great 
manufacturing  district  of  the  time,  and  of  Antwerp,  which  had  become 
the  central  mart  for  the  commerce  of  the  world.  His  native  kingdom, 
poor  as  it  was,  supplied  him  with  the  steadiest  and  the  most  daring 
soldiers  that  the  world  had  seen  since  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
The  renown  of  the  Spanish  infantry  had  been  growing  from  the  day 
when  it  flung  off  the  onset  of  the  French  chivalry  on  the  field  of 
Ravenna ;  and  the  Spanish  generals  stood  without  rivals  in  their 
military  skill,  as  they  stood  without  rivals  in  their  ruthless  cruelty. 
The  whole,  too,  of  this  enormous  power  was  massed  in  the  hands 
of  a  single  man.  Served  as  he  was  by  able  statesmen  and  subtle 
diplomatists,  Philip  of  Spain  was  his  own  sole  minister  ;  labour- 
ing day  after  day,  like  a  clerk,  through  the  long  years  of  his  reign, 
amidst  the  papers  which  crowded  his  closet  ;  but  resolute  to  let 
nothing  pass  without  his  supervision,  and  to  suffer  nothing  to  be 
done  save  by  his  express  command.  It  was  his  boast  that  every- 
where in  the  vast  compass  of  his  dominions  he  was  "  an  absolute 
King."  It  was  to  realize  this  idea  of  unshackled  power  that  he  crushed 
the  liberties  of  Aragon,  as  his  father  had  crushed  the  liberties  of 
Castille,  and  sent  Alva  to  tread  under  foot  the  constitutional  freedom 
of  the  Low  Countries,,  His  bigotry  went  hand  in  hand  with  his  thirst 
for  rule.  Italy  and  Spain  lay  hushed  beneath  the  terror  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion, while  Flanders  was  being  purged  of  heresy  by  the  stake  and  the 
sword.  The  shadow  of  this  gigantic  power  fell  like  a  deadly  bli;  ht 
over  Europe.  The  new  Protestantism,  like  the  new  spirit  of  politic  al 
liberty,  saw  its  real  foe  in  Phihp.  It  was^Spain,  rather  than  the 
Guises,  against  which  Coligni  and  the  Huguenots  struggled  in  vain  ; 
it  was  Spain  with  which  William  of  Orange  was  wrestling  for  religious 
and  civil  freedom  ;  it  was  Spain  which  was  soon  to  plunge  Germany 
into  the  chaos  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and  to  which  the  Catholic 
world  had  for  twenty  years  been  looking,  and  looking  in  vain,  for 
a  victory  over  heresy  in  England.  Vast  in  fact  as  Philip's  resources 
were,  they  were  drained  by  the  yet  vaster  schemes  of  ambition  into 
which  his   religion   and  his  greed   of    power,  as  well   as   the   wide 


1(12 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


distribution  of  his  dominions,  perpetually  drew  him.  To  coerce  the 
weaker  States  of  Italy,  to  command  the  Mediterranean,  to  preserve  his 
influence  in  Germany,  to  support  Catholicism  in  France, t<^«<aush  heresy 
in  Flanders,  to  despatch  one  Armada  against  the  Turk^hid  another 
against  Elizabeth,  were  aims  mighty  enough  to  exhaust  even  the 
power  of  the  Spanish  Monarchy.  But  it  was  rather  on  the  character  of 
Philip  than  on  the  exhaustion  of  his  treasury  that  Elizabeth  counted 
for  success  in  the  struggle  which  had  so  long  been  going  on  between 
them.  The  King's  temper  was  slow,  cautious  even  to  timidity,  losing 
itself  continually  in  delays,  in  hesitations,  in  anticipating  remote  perils, 
in  waiting  for  distant  chances  ;  and  on  the  slowness  and  hesitati  n 
of  his  temper  his  rival  had  been  playing  ever  since  she  mounted  the 
throne.  The  diplomatic  contest  between  the  two  was  like  the  fight 
which  England  was  soon  to  see  between  the  ponderous  Spanish  gal- 
leon and  the  light  pinnace  of  the  buccaneers.  The  agility,  the  sudden 
changes  of  Elizabeth,  her  lies,  her  mystifications,  though  they  failed  to 
deceive  Philip,  puzzled  and  impeded  his  mind.  But  amidst  all  this 
cloud  of  intrigue  the  actual  course  of  their  relations  had  been  clear  and 
simple.  In  her  earlier  days  France  rivalled  Spain  in  its  greatness,  and 
Elizabeth  simply  played  the  two  rivals  off  against  one  another.  She 
hindered  France  from  giving  effective  aid  to  Mary  Stuart  by  threats  of 
an  alliance  with  Spain  ;  while  she  induced  Philip  to  wink  at  her  heresy, 
and  to  discourage  the  risings  of  the  English  Catholics,  by  playing  on 
his  dread  of  her  alliance  with  France.  But  as  the  tide  of  religious 
passion  which  had  so  long  been  held  in  check  broke  at  last  over  its 
banks,  the  political  face  of  Europe  changed.  The  Low  Countries,  driven 
to  despair  by  the  greed  and  persecution  of  Alva,  rose  in  a  revolt  which 
after  strange  alternations  of  fortune  gave  to  Europe  the  Republic  of 
the  United  Provinces.  The  opening  which  their  rising  afforded  was 
seized  by  the  Huguenot  leaders  of  France  as  a  political  engine  to  break 
the  power  which  Catharine  of  Medicis  exercized  over  Charles  the  Ninth, 
and  to  set  aside  her  policy  of  religious  balance  by  placing  France  at 
the  head  of  Protestantism  in  the  West.  Charles  listened  to  the  counsels 
of  Coligni,  who  pressed  for  war  upon  Philip  and  promised  the  support 
of  the  Huguenots  in  an  invasion  of  the  Low  Countries.  Never  had  a 
fairer  prospect  opened  to  French  ambition.  Catharine  however  saw 
ruin  for  the  monarchy  in  a  France  at  once  Protestant  and  free.  She 
threw  herself  on  the  side  of  the  Guises,  and  ensured  their  triumph  by 
lending  herself  to  their  massacre  of  the  Protestants  on  St.  Bartholo- 
mew's day.  But  though  the  long  gathering  clouds  of  religious  hatred 
had  broken,  Elizabeth  trusted  to  her  dexterity  to  keep  out  of  the  storm. 
:France  plunged  madly  back  into  a  chaos  of  civil  war,  and  the  Low 
Countries  were  left  to  cope  single-handed  with  Spain.  Whatever 
enthusiasm  the  heroic  struggle  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  excited  among 
her  subjects,  it  failed  to  move  Elizabeth  even  for  an  instant  from  the 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


413 


path  of  cold  self-interest.     To  her  the  revolt  of  the  Netherlands  was 
simply  "  a  bridle  of  Spain,  which  kept  war  out  of  our  own  gate."     At 
the  darkest  moment  of  the  contest,  when  Alva  had  won  back  all  but 
Holland  and  Zealand,  and  even  William  of  Orange  despaired,  the 
Queen  bent  her  energies  to  prevent  him  from  finding  succour  in  France. 
That  the  Provinces  could  in  the  end  withstand    Philip,  neither  she 
nor  any  English  statesmen  believed.     They  held  that  the  struggle  must 
close  either  in  utter  subjection  of  the  Netherlands,  or  in  their  selling 
themselves  for  aid    to  France  ;    and  the   accession  of  power  which 
either  result   must  give  to  one  of  her  two  Catholic  foes  the  Queen 
was  eager  to  avert.      Her  plan    for    averting    it  was  by  forcing  the 
Provinces  to  accept  the  terms  offered  by  Spain— a  restoration,  that  is, 
of  their  constitutional  privileges  on  condition  of  their  submission  to 
the  Church.     Peace  on  such  a  footing  would  not  only  restore  EngUsh 
commerce,  which  suffered  from  the  war  ;  it  would  leave  the  Netherlands 
still  formidable  as  a  weapon  against  Philip.      The  freedom  of  the 
Provinces  would  be  saved  ;    and  the  religious  question  involved  in  a 
fresh  submission  to  the  yoke  of  Catholicism  was  one  which  Elizabeth 
was  incapable  of  appreciating.      To  her  the  steady  refusal  of  William 
the  Silent  to  sacrifice  his  faith  was  as  unintelligible  as  the  steady  bigotry 
of  Philip  in  demanding  such  a  sacrifice.     It  was  of  more  immediate 
consequence  that  Philip's  anxiety  to  avoid  provoking  an  intervention 
on  the  pi.rt  of  England  which  would  destroy  all  hope  of  his  success 
in  Flanders,  left  her  tranquil  at  home.     Had  revolt  in  England  pros- 
pered he  was  ready  to  reap  the  fruits  of  other  men's  labours  ;  and  he 
made  no  objection  to  plots  for  the  seizure  or   assassination  of  the 
Queen.     But  his  stake  was  too  vast  to  risk  an  attack  while  she  sate 
firmly  on  her  throne  ;  and  the  cry  of  the  English  Catholics,  or  the 
pressure  of  the  Pope,  had  as  yet  failed  to  drive  the  Spanish  King  into 
strife  with  Elizabeth. 

The  control  of  events  was  however  passing  from  the  hands  of  states- 
men and  diplomatists  ;  and  the  long  period  of  suspense  which  their 
policy  had  won  was  ending  in  the  clash  of  national  and  political 
passions.  The  rising  fanaticism  of  the  Catholic  world  was  breaking 
down  the  caution  and  hesitation  of  Philip  ;  while  England  set  aside 
the  balanced  neutrality  of  her  Queen  and  pushed  boldly  forward  to  a 
contest  which  it  felt  to  be  inevitable.  The  public  opinion,  to  which 
the  Queen  was  so  sensitive,  took  every  day  a  bolder  and  more  decided 
tone.  Her  cold  indifference  to  the  heroic  struggle  in  Flanders  was 
more  than  compensated  by  the  enthusiasm  it  excited  among  the  nation 
at  large.  The  earlier  Flemish  refugees  found  a  refuge  in  the  Cinque 
Ports.  The  exiled  merchants  of  Antwerp  were  welcomed  by  the.' 
merchants  of  London.  While  Elizabeth  dribbled  out  her  secret  aid 
to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  the  London  traders  sent  him  half-a-million 
from  their  own  purses,  a  sum  equal  to  a  year's  revenue  of  the  Crown. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 

Armada 

1572 

TO 

1588 


Tbe  Sea 
Dogs 


414 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Volunteers  stole  across  the  Channel  in  increasing  numbers  to  the  aid 
of  the  Dutch,  till  the  five  hundred  Englishmen  who  fought  in  the 
beginning  of  the  struggle  rose  to  a  brigade  of  five  thousand,  whose 
bravery  turned  one  of  the  most  critical  battles  of  the  war.  Dutch 
privateers  found  shelter  in  English  ports,  and  English  vessels  hoisted 
the  flag  of  the  States  for  a  dash  at  the  Spanish  traders.  Protestant 
fervour  rose  steadily  as  "the  best  captains  and  soldiers"  returned 
from  the  campaigns  in  the  Low  Countries  to  tell  of  Alva's  atrocities, 
or  as  privateers  brought  back  tales  of  English  seamen  who  had  been 
seized  in  Spain  and  the  New  World,  to  linger  amidst  the  tortures  of 
the  Inquisition,  or  to  die  in  its  fires.  In  the  presence  of  this  steady 
drift  of  popular  passion  the  diplomacy  of  Elizabeth  became  of  little 
moment.  When  she  sought  to  put  a  check  on  Philip  by  one  of  her 
last  matrimonial  intrigues,  which  threatened  England  with  a  Catholic 
sovereign  in  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  a  younger  son  of  the  hated  Catharine 
of  Medicis,  the  popular  indignation  rose  suddenly  into  a  cry  against 
"a  Popish  King"  which  the  (2ueen  dared  not  defy.  If  Elizabeth  was 
resolute  for  peace,  England  was  resolute  for  war.  A  new  courage  had 
arisen  since  the  beginning  of  her  reign,  when  Cecil  and  the  Queen 
stood  alone  in  their  belief  in  England's  strength,  and  when  the  diplo- 
matists of  Europe  regarded  her  obstinate  defiance  of  Philip's  counsels 
as  "  madness."  The  whole  people  had  caught  the  self-confidence  and 
daring  of  their  Queen.  The  seamen  of  the  southern  coast  had  long 
been  carrying  on  a  half-piratical  war  on  their  own  account.  Four 
years  after  Elizabeth's  accession  the  Channel  swarmed  with  "  sea- 
dogs,"  as  they  were  called,  who  sailed  under  letters  of  marque  from 
the  Prince  of  Condd  and  the  Huguenot  leaders,  and  took  heed  neither 
of  the  complaints  of  the  French  Court  nor  of  Elizabeth's  own  attempts 
at  repression.  Her  efforts  failed  before  the  connivance  of  every  man 
along  the  coast,  of  the  very  port-officers  of  the  Crown  who  made  profit 
out  of  the  spoil,  and  of  the  gentry  of  the  west,  who  were  hand  and 
glove  with  the  adventurers.  They  broke  above  all  against  the  national 
craving  for  open  fight  with  Spain,  and  the  Protestant  craving  for 
open  fight  with  Catholicism.  Young  Englishmen  crossed  the  sea 
to  serve  under  Condd  or  Henry  of  Navarre.  The  war  in  the  Nether- 
lands drew  hundreds  of  Protestants  to  the  field.  The  suspension 
of  the  French  contest  only  drove  the  sea-dogs  to  the  West  Indies; 
for  the  Papal  decree  which  gave  the  New  World  to  Spain,  and  the 
threats  of  Philip  against  any  Protestant  who  should  visit  its  seas,  fell 
idly  on  the  ears  of  English  seamen.  It  was  in  vain  that  their  trading 
vessels  were  seized,  and  the  sailors  flung  into  the  dungeons  of  the 
Inquisition,  "laden  with  irons,  without  sight  of  sun  or  moon."  The 
profits  of  the  trade  were  large  enough  to  counteract  its  perils  ;  and  the 
bigotry  of  Philip  was  met  by  a  bigotry  as  merciless  as  his  own.  The 
Puritanism  of  the  sea-dogs  went  hand  in  hand  with   their  love  of 


VIZ.  J 


THE  REFORMATION. 


415 


adventure.  To  break  through  the  Catholic  monopoly  of  the  New 
World,  to  kill  Spaniards,  to  sell  negroes,  to  sack  gold-ships,  were  in 
these  men's  minds  a  seemly  work  for  the  "  elect  of  God."  The  name 
of  Francis  Drake  became  the  terror  of  the  Spanish  Indies.  In  Drake 
a  Protestant  fanaticism  was  united  with  a  splendid  daring.  He 
conceived  the  design  of  penetrating  into  the  Pacific,  whose  waters 
had  never  seen  an  English  flag  ;  and  backed  by  a  little  company  of 
adventurers,  he  set  sail  for  the  southern  seas  in  a  vessel  hardly  as  big 
as  a  Channel  schooner,  with  a  few  yet  smaller  companions  who  fell 
away  before  the  storms  and  perils  of  the  voyage.  But  Drake  with  his 
one  ship  and  eighty  men  held  boldly  on  ;  and  passing  the  Straits  of 
Magellan,  untraversed  as  yet  by  any  Englishman,  swept  the  unguarded 
coast  of  Chili  and  Peru,  loaded  his  bark  with  the  gold-dust  and  silver- 
ingots  of  Potosi,  and  with  the  pearls,  emeralds,  and  diamonds  which 
formed  the  cargo  of  the  great  galleon  that  sailed  once  a  year  from 
Lima  to  Cadiz.  With  spoils  of  above  half-a-million  in  value  the 
daring  adventurer  steered  undauntedly  for  the  Moluccas,  rounded  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  after  completing  the  circuit  of  the  globe 
dropped  anchor  again  in  Plymouth  harbour. 

The  romantic  daring  of  Drake' s  voyage,  as  well  as  the  vastness  of 
his  spoil,  roused  a  general  enthusiasm  throughout  England.  But  the 
welcome  he  received  from  Elizabeth  on  his  return  was  accepted  by 
Philip  as  an  outrage  which  could  only  be  expiated  by  war.  Sluggish 
as  it  was,  the  blood  of  the  Spanish  King  was  fired  at  last  by  the  de- 
fiance with  which  Elizabeth  received  all  demands  for  redress.  She  met 
a  request  for  Drake's  surrender  by  knighting  the  freebooter,  and  by 
wearing  in  her  crown  the  jewels  he  had  offered  her  as  a  present. 
When  the  Spanish  ambassador  threatened  that  "  matters  would  come 
to  the  cannon,"  she  replied  "  quietly,  in  her  most  natural  voice,  as  if 
she  were  telling  a  common  story,"  wrote  Mendoza,  "  that  if  I  used 
threats  of  that  kind  she  would  fling  me  into  a  dungeon.''  Outraged  as 
Philip  was,  she  believed  that  with  the  Netherlands  still  in  revolt  and 
France  longing  for  her  alliance  to  enable  it  to  seize  them,  the  King 
could  not  afford  to  quarrel  with  her.  But  the  sense  of  personal  wrong, 
and  the  outcry  of  the  Catholic  world  against  his  selfish  reluctance  to 
avenge  the  blood  of  its  martyrs,  at  last  told  on  the  Spanish  King,  and 
the  first  vessels  of  an  armada  which  v/as  destined  for  the  conquest  of 
England  began  to  gather  in  the  Tagus.  Resentment  and  fanaticism 
indeed  were  backed  by  a  cool  policy.  His  conquest  of  Portugal  had 
almost  doubled  his  power.  It  gave  him  the  one  navy  that  as  yet  rivalled 
his  own.  With  the  Portuguese  colonies  his  flag  claimed  mastery  in  the 
Indian  and  the  Pacific  seas,  as  it  claimed  mastery  in  the  Atlantic  and 
Mediterranean  ;  and  he  had  now  to  shut  Englishman  and  heretic  not 
only  out  of  the  New  World  of  the  West  but  out  of  the  lucrative  traflic 
with  the  East.       In  the   Netherlands  too  and  in  France  all   seemed 


>ti6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF- 


to  go  well  for  Philip's  schemes.  His  forces  under  Parma  had  steadily 
won  their  way  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  a  more  fatal  blow  had  been 
dealt  at  his  rebellious  subjects  in  the  assassination  of  William  of 
Orange  ;  while  all  danger  of  French  intervention  passed  away  with 
the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  which  left  Henry  of  Navarre,  the 
leader  of  the  Huguenot  party,  heir  of  the  crown  of  France.  To 
prevent  the  triumph  of  heresy  in  the  succession  of  a  Protestant  king, 
the  Guises  and  the  French  Catholics  rose  at  once  in  arms ;  but  the 
Holy  League  which  they  formed  rested  mainly  on  the  support  of 
Philip,  and  so  long  as  he  supplied  them  with  men  and  money, 
he  was  secure  on  the  side  of  France.  It  was  at  this  moment  that 
Parma  won  his  crowning  triumph  in  the  capture  of  Antwerp  ;  its 
fall  after  a  gallant  resistance  convinced  even  Elizabeth  of  the  need 
for  action  if  the  one  "bridle  to  Spain  which  kept  war  out  of  our 
own  gate"  was  to  be  saved.  Lord  Leicester  was  hurried  to  the 
Flemish  coast  with  8,000  men.  In  a  yet  bolder  spirit  of  defiance 
Francis  Drake  was  suffered  to  set  sail  with  a  fleet  of  twenty-five  vessels 
for  the  Spanish  Main.  Drake's  voyage  was  a  series  of  triumphs.  The 
wrongs  inflicted  on  English  seamen  by  the  Inquisition  were  requited 
by  the  burning  of  the  cities  of  St.  Domingo  and  Carthagena.  The 
coasts  of  Cuba  and  Florida  were  plundered,  and  though  the  gold  fleet 
escaped  him,  Drake  returned  with  a  heavy  booty.  But  only  one 
disastrous  skirmish  at  Zutphen,  the  fight  in  which  Sidney  fell,  broke 
the  inaction  of  Leicester's  forces,  while  Elizabeth  strove  vainly  to  use 
the  presence  of  his  army  to  negotiate  a  peace  between  Philip  and  the 
States.  Meanwhile  dangers  ihickened  round  her  in  P'ngland  itself 
Maddened  by  persecution,  by  the  hopelessness  of  rebellion  within  or 
of  deliverance  from  without,  the  fiercer  Catholics  listened  to  schemes 
of  assassination  to  which  the  murder  of  William  of  Orange  lent  a 
terrible  significance.  The  detection  of  Somerville,  a  fanatic  who  had 
received  the  Host  before  setting  out  for  London  "  to  shoot  the  Queen 
with  his  dagg,"  was  followed  by  measures  of  natural  severity,  by  the 
flight  and  arrest  of  Catholic  gentry  and  peers,  by  a  vigorous  purifica- 
tion of  the  Inns  of  Court  where  a  few  Catholics  lingered,  and  by  the 
despatch  of  fresh  batches  of  priests  to  the  block.  The  trial  and  death 
of  Parry,  a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons  who  had  served  in  the 
Queen's  household,  on  a  similar  charge,  fed  the  general  panic.  Parlia- 
ment met  in  a  transport  of  horror  and  loyalty.  All  Jesuits  and 
seminary  priests  were  banished  from  the  realm  on  pain  of  death. 
A  bill  for  the  security  of  the  Queen  disqualified  any  claimant  of  the 
succession  who  instigated  subjects  to  rebellion  or  hurt  to  the  Queen's 
person  from  ever  succeeding  to  the  Crown.  The  threat  was  aimed  at 
Mary  Stuart.  Weary  of  her  long  restraint,  of  her  failure  to  rouse 
Philip  or  Scotland  to  aid  her,  of  the  baffled  revolt  of  the  English 
Catholics  and  the  baflfled  intrigues  of  the  Jesuits,  she  had  bent  for  a 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


417 


moment  to  submission.  "  Let  me  go,"  she  wrote  to  Elizabeth  ;  "  let 
me  retire  from  this  island  to  some  solitude  where  I  may  prepare  my 
soul  to  die.  Grant  this,  and  I  will  sign  away  every  right  which  either 
I  or  mine  can  claim."  But  the  cry  was  useless,  and  her  despair  found 
a  new  and  more  terrible  hope  in  the  plots  against  Elizabeth's  life.  She 
knew  and  approved  the  vow  of  Anthony  Babington  and  a  band  of 
young  Catholics,  for  the  most  part  connected  with  the  royal  household, 
to  kill  the  Queen  ;  but  plot  and  approval  alike  passed  through  Wal- 
singham's  hands,  and  the  seizure  of  Mary's  correspondence  revealed 
her  guilt.  In  spite  of  her  protest  a  Commission  of  Peers  sate  as  her 
judges  at  Fotheringay  Castle  ;  and  their  verdict  of  "  guilty "  anni- 
hilated under  the  provisions  of  the  recent  statute  her  claim  to  the 
Crown.  The  streets  of  London  blazed  with  bonfires,  and  peals  rang 
out  from  steeple  to  steeple  at  the  news  of  her  condemnation  ;  but,  in 
spite  of  the  prayer  of  Parliament  for  her  execution,  and  the  pressure  of 
the  Council,  Elizabeth  shrank  from  her  death.  The  force  of  public 
opinion,  however,  was  now  carrying  all  before  it,  and  the  unanimous 
demand  of  her  people  wrested  at  last  a  sullen  consent  from  the 
Queen.  She  flung  the  warrant  signed  upon  the  floor,  and  the  Council 
took  on  themselves  the  responsibility  of  executing  it.  Mary  died  on  a 
scaffold  which  was  erected  in  the  castle-hall  at  Fotheringay  as  daunt- 
lessly  as  she  had  lived.  "  Do  not  weep,"  she  said  to  her  ladies, 
"  I  have  given  my  word  for  you."  "  Tell  my  friends,"  she  charged 
Melville,  "  that  I  die  a  good  Catholic." 

The  blow  was  hardly  struck  before  Elizabeth  turned  with  fury  on 
the  ministers  who  had  forced  her  hand.  Cecil,  who  had  now  become 
Lord  Burleigh,  was  for  a  while  disgraced  ;  and  Davison,  who  cairied 
the  warrant  to  the  Council,  was  flung  into  the  Tower  to  atone  for  an 
act  which  shattered  the  policy  of  the  Queen.  The  death  of  Mary 
Stuart  in  fact  seemed  to  remove  the  last  obstacle  out  of  Philip's  way, 
by  putting  an  end  to  the  divisions  of  the  English  Catholics.  To  him, 
as  to  the  nearest  heir  in  blood  who  was  of  the  Catholic  Faith,  Mary 
bequeathed  her  rights  to  the  Crown,  and  the  hopes  of  her  adherents 
were  from  that  moment  bound  up  in  the  success  of  Spain.  Philip  no 
longer  needed  pressure  to  induce  him  to  act.  Drake's  triumph  had 
taught  him  that  the  conquest  of  England  was  needful  for  the  security 
of  his  dominion  in  the  New  World.  The  presence  of  an  English  army 
in  Flanders  convinced  him  that  the  road  to  the  conquest  of  the  States 
lay  through  England  itself.  The  operations  of  Parma  therefore  in  the 
Low  Countries  were  suspended  with  a  view  to  the  greater  enterprise. 
Vessels  and  supplies  for  the  fleet  which  had  for  three  years  been 
gathering  in  the  Tagus  were  collected  from  every  port  of  the  Spanish 
coast.  Only  the  dread  of  a  counter-attack  from  France,  where  the 
fortunes  of  the  League  were  wavering,  held  Philip  back.  But  the 
news  of  the  coming  Armada  callecl  Drake  again  to  action.     He  set 

p 


/.x8 


HISTORY  OP^  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


sail  with  thirty  small  barks,  burned  the  storeships  and  galleys  in  the 
harbour  of  Cadiz,  stormed  the  ports  of  the  Faro,  and  was  only  foiled 
in  his  aim  of  attacking  the  Armada  itself  by  orders  from  home.  A 
descent  upon  Corunna  however  completed  what  Drake  called  his 
"  singeing  of  the  Spanish  Kinp^'s  beard."  Elizabeth  used  the  daring 
blow  to  back  her  negotiations  for  peace  ;  but  the  Spanish  pride  had 
been  touched  to  the  quick.  Amidst  the  exchange  of  protocols  Parma 
gathered  seventeen  thousand  men  for  the  coming  invasion,  collected  a 
rieet  of  flat-bottomed  transports  at  Dunkirk,  and  waited  impatiently 
for  the  Armada  to  protect  his  crossing.  But  the  attack  of  Drake,  the 
death  of  its  first  admiral,  and  the  winter  storms  delayed  the  fleet  from 
sailing.  The  fear  of  France  held  it  back  yet  more  effectually  ;  but  in 
the  spring  Philip's  patience  was  rewarded.  The  Lea<;ue  was  trium- 
phant, and  the  King  a  prisoner  in  its  hands.  The  Armada  at  once 
set  sail  from  Lisbon,  but  it  had  hardly  started  when  a  gale  in  the  Bay 
of  Biscay  drove  its  scattered  vessels  into  Ferrol.  It  was  only  on  the 
nineteenth  of  July  that  the  sails  of  the  Armada  were  seen  from  the 
Lizard,  and  the  English  beacons  flared  out  their  alarm  along  the  coast. 
The  news  found  England  ready.  An  army  was  mustering  u;ider 
Leicester  at  Tilbury,  the  militia  of  the  midland  counties  were  gathering 
to  London,  while  those  of  the  south  and  east  were  held  in  readiness  to 
meet  a  descent  on  either  shore.  Had  Parma  landed  on  the  earliest 
day  he  purposed,  he  would  have  found  his  way  to  London  barred  by  a 
force  stronger  than  his  own,  a  force  too  of  men  in  whose  ranks  were 
many  who  had  already  crossed  pikes  on  equal  terms  with  his  best 
infantry  in  Flanders.  "  When  I  shall  have  landed,"  he  warned 
his  master,  "  1  must  fight  battle,  after  battle,  1  shall  lose  men  by 
wounds  and  disease,  I  must  leave  detachments  behind  me  to  keep 
open  my  communications ;  and  in  a  short  time  the  body  of  my 
army  will  become  so  weak  that  not  only  I  may  be  unable  to  advance 
in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  and  time  may  be  given  to  the  heretics 
and  your  Majesty's  other  enemies  to  interfere,  but  there  may  fall 
out  some  notable  inconvenience  •;,  with  the  loss  of  everything,  and 
I  be  unable  to  remedy  it."  Even  had  Parma  landed,  in  fact,  the  only 
real  chance  of  Spanish  success  lay  in  a  Catholic  rising  ;  and  at  this 
crisis  patriotism  proved  stronger  than  religious  fanaticism  in  the  hearts 
of  the  English  Catholics.  Catholic  lords  brought  their  vessels  up 
alongside  of  Drake  and  Lord  Howard,  and  Catholic  gentry  led  their 
tenantry  to  the  muster  at  Tilbury.  But  to  secure  a  landing  at  all,  the 
Spaniards  had  to  be  masters  of  the  Channel  ;  and  in  the  Channel  lay 
(  an  English  fleet  resolved  to  struggle  hard  for  the  mastery.  As  the 
j  Armada  sailed  on  in  a  broad  crescent  past  Plymouth,  moving  towaids 
I  its  point  of  junction  with  Parma  at  Calais,  the  vessels  which  ^ad 
I  gathered  under  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham  slipped  out  of  the  bav  and 
I  hung  with  the  wind  upon  their  rcaif.     In  numbers  the  two  forces  were 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


419 


strangely  unequal ;  the  English  fleet  counted  only  80  vessels  against 
the  149  w^hich  composed  the  Armada.  In  size  of  ships  the  dispropor- 
tion wa§  even  greater.  Fifty  of  the  English  vessels,  including  the 
squadron  of  the  Lord  Admiral  and  the  craft  of  the  volunteers,  were 
little  bigger  than  yachts  of  the  present  day.  Even  of  the  thirty 
(2ueen's  ships  which  formed  its  main  body,  there  were  only  four  which 
equalled  in  tonnage  the  smallest  of  the  Spanish  galleons.  Sixty-five 
of  these  galleons  formed  the  most  formidable  half  of  the  Spanish  fleet ; 
and  four  galleys,  four  galleasses,  armed  with  fifty  guns  apiece,  fifty-six 
armed  merchantmen,  and  twenty  pinnaces,  made  up  the  rest.  The 
Armada  was  provided  with  2,500  cannons,  and  a  vast  store  of  pro- 
visions ;  it  had  on  board  8,000  seamen,  and  more  than  20,000  soldiers  ; 
and  if  a  court-favourite,  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  had  been 
placed  at  its  head,  he  was  supported  by  the  ablest  staff" of  naval  officers 
which  Spain  possessed.  Small  however  as  the  English  ships  were, 
they  were  in  perfect  trim  ;  they  sailed  two  feet  for  the  Spaniards'  one, 
they  were  manned  with  9,000  hardy  seamen,  and  their  Admiral  was 
backed  by  a  crowd  of  captains  who  had  won  fame  in  the  Spanish  seas. 
With  him  was  Hawkins,  who  had  been  the  first  to  break  into  the 
charmed  circle  of  the  Indies  :  Frobisher,  the  hero  of  the  North- West 
passage  ;  and  above  all  Drake,  who  held  command  of  the  privateers. 
They  had  won  too  the  advantage  of  the  wind,  and,  closing  in  or  draw- 
ing off"  as  they  would,  the  lightly-handled  English  vessels,  which  fired 
four  shots  to  the  Spaniards'  one,  hung  boldly  on  the  rear  of  the  great 
fleet  as  it  moved  along  the  Channel.  "  The  feathers  of  the  Spaniard," 
in  the  phrase  of  the  English  seamen,  were  "  plucked  one  by  one." 
Galleon  after  galleon  was  sunk,  boarded,  driven  on  shore  ;  and  yet 
Medina  Sidonia  failed  in  bringing  his  pursuers  to  a  close  engagement. 
Now  halting,  now  moving  slowly  on,  the  running  fight  between  the  two 
fleets  lasted  throughout  the  week,  till  the  Armada  dropped  anchor  in 
Calais  roads.  The  time  had  now  c  me  for  sharper  work  if  the  junction 
of  the  Armada  with  Parma  was  to  be  prevented  ;  for,  demoralized  as 
the  Spaniards  had  been  by  the  merciless  chase,  their  loss  in  ships 
had  not  been  great,  while,  though  the  numbers  of  English  ships  had 
grown,  their  supplies  of  food  and  ammunition  were  fist  running  out. 
Howard  resolved  to  force  an  engagement,  and.  lighting  eight  fire-ships 
at  midnight,  sent  them  down  with  the  tide  up^n  the  Spanish  line.  The 
galleons  at  once  cut  their  cables,  and  stood  out  in  panic  to  sea, 
drifting  with  the  wind  in  a  long  line  off"  Gravelines.  Drake  resolved 
at  all  costs  to  prevent  their  return.  At  dawn  the  English  ships 
closed  fairly  in,  and  almost  their  last  cartridge  was  spent  ere  the 
sun  went  down.  Three  great  galleons  had  sunk,  three  had  drifted 
helplessly  on  to  the  Flemish  coast ;  but  the  bulk  or  the  Spanish  vessels 
remained,  and  even  to  Drake  the  fleet  seemed  "  wonderful  great  and 
strong."  Within  the  Armada  itself,  however,  all  hope  was  gone. 
Huddled  together  by  the  wind  and  the  deadly  English  fire,  their  sails 


420 


Hl^srUKY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


torn,  their  masts  shot  away,  the  crowded  galleons  had  become  mere 
slaughter-houses.  Four  thousand  men  had  fallen,  and  bravely  as  the 
seamen  fought  they  were  cowed  by  the  terrible  butchery.  Medina 
himself  was  in  despair.  "  We  are  lost,  Senor  Oquenda,"  he  cried  to 
his  bravest  captain  ;  "  what  are  we  to  do  ?"  "  Let  others  talk  of  being 
lost,"  replied  Oquenda,  "  your  Excellency  has  only  to  order  up  fresh 
cartridge."  But  Oquenda  stood  alone,  and  a  council  of  war  resolved 
on  retreat  to  Spain  by  the  one  course  open,  that  of  a  circuit  round  the 
Orkneys,  "  Never  anything  pleased  me  better,"  wrote  Drake,  "  than 
seeing  the  enemy  fly  with  a  southerly  wind  to  the  northwards.  Have 
a  good  eye  to  the  Prince  of  Parma,  for,  with  the  grace  of  God,  if  we 
like,  I  doubt  not  ere  it  be  long  so  to  handle  the  matter  with  the  Duke 
of  Sidonia,  as  he  shall  wish  himself  at  St.  Mary  Port  among  his  orange 
trees."  But  the  work  of  destruction  was  reserved  for  a  mightier  foe 
than  Drake.  Supplies  fell  short  and  the  English  vessels  were  forced 
to  give  up  the  chase  ;  but  the  Spanish  ships  which  remained  had  no 
sooner  reached  the  Orkneys  than  the  storms  of  the  northern  seas 
broke  on  them  with  a  fury  before  which  all  concert  and  union  dis- 
appeared. Fifty  reached  Corunna,  bearing  ten  thousand  men  stricken 
with  pestilence  and  death.  Of  the  rest  some  were  sunk,  some  dashed 
to  pieces  against  the  Irish  cliffs.  The  wreckers  of  the  Orkneys  and 
the  Faroes,  the  clansmen  of  the  Scottish  Isles,  the  kernes  of  Donegal 
and  Galway,  all  had  their  part  in  the  work  of  murder  and  robbery. 
Eight  thousand  Spaniards  perished  between  the  Giant's  Causeway 
and  the  Blaskets.  On  a  strand  near  Sligo  an  English  captain  num- 
bered eleven  hundred  corpses  which  had  been  cast  up  by  the  sea. 
The  flower  of  the  Spanish  nobility,  who  had  been  sent  on  the  new 
crusade  under  Alonzo  da  Leyva,  after  twice  sufi"ering  shipwreck,  put 
a  third  time  to  sea  to  founder  on  a  reef  near  Dunluce. 

Section  VII.  -The  Elixabethan  Poets. 

[Authorities. — For  a  general  account  of  this  period,  see  Mr.  Motley's  ad 
mirable  "First  Sketch  of  English  Literature,"  Hallam's  "  Literary  History,'* 
M.  Taine's  *'  History  of  English  Literature,"  &c.  Mr.  Craik  has  elaborately 
illustrated  the  works  of  Spenser,  and  full  details  of  the  history  of  our  early 
drama  may  be  found  in  Mr.  Collier's  **  History  of  English  Dramatic  Literature 
to  the  time  of  Shakspere."  Malone's  enquiry  remams  the  completest  inves- 
tigation into  the  history  of  Shakspere's  dramas  ;  and  the  works  of  Mr. 
Armytage  Brown  and  Mr.  Gerald  Massey  contain  the  latest  theories  as  to 
the  Sonnets.  For  Ben  Jonson  and  his  fellows,  see  their  works  with  the  notes 
of  Gifford,  &c.  The  fullest  account  of  Lord  Bacon  will  he  found  in  his  **  Life 
and  Letters,"  now  published  with  his  "Works,"  by  Mr.  Spcdding,  whose 
apoloj;ctic  tones  may  be  contrasted  with  the  verdict  of  Lord  Macaulay  ('*  Essay 
on  Lord  Hacon ")  and  with  the  more  judicious  judgement  of  Mr.  Gardiner 
(**  History  of  England  ").     Sec  also  Mr.  Lewes's  •*  History  of  Philosophy."] 

We  have  already  watched  the  revival  of  English  letters  during  the 
earlier  half  of  Elizabeth's  reign.     The  general  awakening  of  national 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


421 


life,  the  increase  of  wealth,  of  refinement  and  leisure,  which  marked 
that  period,  had  been  accompanied,  as  we  have  seen,  by  a  quickening 
of  English  intelligence,  which  found  vent  in  an  upgrowth  of  grammar 
schools,  in  the  new  impulse  given  to  classical  learning  at  the  Univer- 
sities, in  a  passion  for  translations  which  familiarized  all  England  with 
the  masterpieces  of  Italy  and  Greece,  and  above  all  in  the  crude  but 
vigorous  efforts  of  Sackville  and  Lyly  after  a  nobler  poetry  and  prose. 
But  to  the  national  and  local  influences  which  were  telling  on  English 
literature  was  added  that  of  the  restlessness  and  curiosity  which 
characterized  the  age.  The  sphere  of  human  interest  was  widened 
as  it  has  never  been  widened  before  or  since  by  the  revelation  of  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth.  It  was  only  in  the  later  years  of  the 
sixteenth  century  that  the  discoveries  of  Copernicus  were  brought 
home  to  the  general  intelligence  of  the  world  by  Kepler  and  Galileo, 
or  that  the  daring  of  the  Buccaneers  broke  through  the  veil  which 
the  greed  of  Spain  had  drawn  across  the  New  World  of  Columbus. 
Hardly  inferior  to  these  revelations  as  a  source  of  intellectual  impulse 
was  the  sudden  and  picturesque  way  in  which  the  various  races  of 
the  world  were  brought  face  to  face  with  one  another  through  the 
universal  passion  for  foreign  travel.  While  the  red  tribes  of  the 
West  were  described  by  Amerigo  Vespucci,  and  the  strange  civilization 
of  Mexico  and  Peru  disclosed  by  Cortes  and  Pizarro,  the  voyages  of 
the  Portuguese  threw  open  the  older  splendours  of  the  East,  and  the 
story  of  India  and  China  was  told  for  the  first  time  to  Christendom 
by  Maffei  and  Mendoza.  England  took  her  full  part  in  this  work 
of  discovery.  Jenkinson,  an  English  traveller,  made  his  way  to 
Bokhara.  Willoughby  brought  back  Muscovy  to  the  knowledge  of 
Western  Europe.  English  mariners  penetrated  among  the  Esquimaux, 
or  settled  in  Virginia.  Drake  circumnavigated  the  globe.  The 
"  Collection  of  Voyages,"  which  was  published  by  Hakluyt,  not  only 
disclosed  the  vastness  of  the  world  itself,  but  the  infinite  number  of 
the  races  of  mankind,  the  variety  of  their  laws,  their  customs,  their 
religions,  their  very  instincts.  We  see  the  influence  of  this  new  and 
wider  knowledge  of  the  world,  not  only  in  the  life  and  richness  which 
it  gave  to  the  imagination  of  the  time,  but  in  the  immense  interest 
which  from  this  moment  attached  itself  to  Man.  Shakspere's  conception 
of  Caliban,  like  the  questionings  of  Montaigne,  marks  the  beginning 
of  a  new  and  a  truer,  because  a  more  inductive,  philosophy  of  human 
nature  and  human  history.  The  fascination  exercised  by  the  study  of 
human  character  showed  itself  in  the  essays  of  Bacon,  and  yet  more  in 
the  wonderful  popularity  of  the  drama.  And  to  these  larger  and  world- 
wide sources  of  poetic  powers  was  added  in  England  the  impulse  which 
sprang  from  national  triumph,  from  the  victory  over  the  Armada,  the 
deliverance  from  Spain,  the  rolling  away  of  the  Catholic  terror  which  had 
hung  like  a  cloud  over  the  hopes  of  the  people.     With  its  new  sense  of 


422 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


security,  of  national  energy  and  national  power,  the  whole  a-^pect  of 
England  suddenly  changed.  As  yet  the  interest  of  Elizabeth's  reign 
had  been  political  and  material  ;  the  stage  had  been  crowded  with 
^  tatesmen  and  warriors,  with  Cecils  and  Walsinghams  and  Drakes. 
Literature  had  hardly  found  a  place  in  the  glories  of  the  time.  But 
from  the  moment  when  the  Armada  drifted  back  broken  to  Ferrol,  the 
figures  of  warriors  and  statesmen  were  dwarfed  by  the  grander  figures 
of  poets  and  philosophers.  Amidst  the  throng  in  Elizabeths  ante- 
chamber the  noblest  form  is  that  of  the  singer  who  lays  the  "  Faerie 
Queen  "  at  her  feet,  or  of  the  young  lawyer  who  muses  amid  the  splen- 
dours of  the  presence  over  the  problems  of  the  "  Novum  Organum." 
The  triumph  at  Cadiz,  the  conquest  of  Ireland,  pass  unheeded  as 
we  watch  Hooker  building  up  his  "Ecclesiastical  Polity"  among  the 
sheepfolds,  or  the  genius  of  Shakspere  rising  year  by  year  into  supremer 
grandeur  in  a  rude  theatre  beside  the  Thames. 

Theiull  glory  of  the  new  literature  broke  on  England  with  Edmund 
Spenser.  We  know  little  of  his  life  ;  he  was  born  in  East  London 
of  poor  parents,  but  connected  with  the  Spencers  of  Althorpe,  even 
then — as  he  proudly  says — "  a  house  of  ancient  fame."  He  studied 
as  a  sizar  at  Cambridge,  and  quitted  the  University  while  still  a  boy 
to  live  as  a  tutor  in  the  north  ;  but  after  some  years  of  obscure  poverty 
the,  scorn  of  a  fair  "  Rosalind "  drove  him  again  southwards.  A 
college  friendship  with  G^hrjel  Haryey  served  to  introduce  him  to 
Lord  Leicester,  who  sent  him  as  his  envoy  into  France,  and  in  whose 
service  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Leicester's  nephew,  Sir  Philip 
Sidney.  From  Sidney's  house  at  Penshurst  came  his  earliest  work, 
the  "  Shepherd's  Calendar  ;"  in  form,  like  Sidney's  own  "Arcadia,"  a 
pastoral,  where  love  and  loyalty  and  Puritanism  jostled  oddly  with  the 
fancied  shepherd  life.  The  peculiar  melody  and  profuse  imagination 
which  the  pastoral  disclosed  at  once  placed  its  author  in  the  forefront 
of  living  poets,  but  a  far  greater  work  was  already  in  hand  ;  and  from 
some  words  of  Gabriel  Harvey's  we  see  Spenser  bent  on  rivalling 
Ariosto,  and  even  hoping  "  to  overgo  "  the  "  Orlando  Furioso,"  in  his 
"Elvish  (2ueen."  The  ill-will  or  indifference  of  Burleigh,  however, 
blasted  the  expectations  he  had  drawn  from  the  patronage  of  Sidney  or 
the  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  the  favour  with  which  he  had  been  welcomed 
by  the  Queen.  Sidney,  himself  in  disgrace  with  Elizabeth,  withdrew 
to  Wilton  to  write  the  *  Arcadia,"  by  his  sister's  side  ;  and  "  discontent 
of  my  long  fruitless  stay  in  princes' courts,"  the  poet  tells  us,  "and 
expectation  vain  of  idle  hopes,''  drove  Spenser  at  last  into  exile.  He 
followed  Lord  (ircy  as  his  secretary  into  Ireland,  and  remained  there 
on  the  Deputy's  recall  in  the  enjoyment  of  an  office  and  a  grant  of 
land  from  the  forfeited  estates  of  the  Earl  of  Desmond.  Spenser 
had  thus  enrolled  himself  among  the  colonists  to  whom  England  was 
looking  at  the  time  for  the  regeneration  of  Munster,  and  the  practical 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


423 


interest  he  took  in  the  "barren  soil  where  cold  and  want  and  poverty 
do  grow  "  was  shown  by  the  later  publication  of  a  prose  tractate  on 
the  condition  and  government  of  the  island.  It  was  at  Dublin  or  in 
his  castle  of  Kilcolman,  two  miles  from  Uoneraile,  "under  the  foote 
of  Mole,  that  mountain  hoar/'  that  he  spent  the  ten  years  in  which 
Sidney  died  and  Mary  fell  on  the  scaffold  and  the  Armada  came  and 
Went ;  and  it  was  in  the  latter  home  that  Walter  Ralegh  found  him 
sitting  "  alwaies  idle,"  as  it  seemed  to  his  restless  friend,  "  among  the 
cooly  shades  of  the  green  alders  by  the  Mulla's  shore,"  in  a  visit  made 
memorable  by  the  poem  of  "  Colin  Clout's  come  home  again."  But  in 
the  "idlesse"  and  sohtude  of  the  poet's  exile  the  great  work  begun  in 
the  two  pleasant  years  of  his  stay  at  Penshurst  had  at  last  taken  form, 
and  it  was  to  publish  the  first  three  books  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen  "  that 
Spenser  returned  in  Ralegh  s  company  to  London. 

The  appearance  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen"  is  the  one  critical  event  in  the 
annals  of  English  poetry ;  it  settled,  in  fact,  the  question  whether  there 
was  to  be  such  a  thing  as  English  poetry  or  no.  The  older  national 
verse  which  h^.d  blossomed  and  died  in  Caedmon  sprang  suddenly 
into  a  grander  life  in  Chaucer,  but  it  closed  again  in  a  yet  more 
complete  death.  Across  the  Border,  indeed,  the  Scotch  poets  of  the 
fifteenth  century  preserved  something  of  their  master's  vivacity  and 
colour,  and  in  England  itself  the  Italian  poetry  of  the  Renascence 
had  of  late  found  echoes  in  Surrey  and  Sidney.  The  new  English 
drama  too  was  beginning  to  display  its  wonderful  powers,  and  the 
work  of  Marlowe  had  already  prepared  the  way  for  the  work  of 
Shakspere.  But  bright  as  was  the  promise  of  coming  song,  no 
great  imaginative  poem  had  broken  the  silence  of  English  literature 
for  nearly  two  hundred  years  when  Spenser  landed  at  Bristol  with 
the  ''  Faerie  Queen."  From  that  moment  the  stream  of  English 
poetry  has  flowed  on  without  a  break.  There  have  been  times,  as  in 
the  years  which  immediately  followed,  when  England  has  "  become 
a  nest  of  singing  birds  ; "  there  have  been  times  when  song  was  scant 
and  poor  ;  but  there  never  has  been  a  time  when  England  was  wholly 
without  a  singer.  The  new  English  verse  has  been  true  to  the  source 
from  which  it  sprang,  and  Spenser  has  always  been  "  the  poet's  poet." 
But  in  his  own  day  he  was  the  poet  of  England  at  large.  The  "  Faerie 
Queen"  was  received  with  a  burst  of  general  welcome.  It  became 
"the  dehght  of  every  accomphshed  gentleman,  the  model  of  every 
poet,  the  solace  of  every  soldier.'"  The  poem  expressed,  indeed,  the 
very  life  of  the  time.  It  was  with  a  true  poetic  instinct  that  Spenser 
fell  back  for  the  framework  of  his  story  on  the  faery  world  of  Celtic 
romance,  whose  wonder  and  mystery  had  in  fact  become  the  truest 
picture  of  the  wonder  and  mystery  of  the  world  around  him.  In  the 
age  of  Cortes  and  of  Ralegh  dreamland  had  ceased  to  be  dreamland, 
and  no  marvel  or  adventure  that  befell  lady  or  knight  was  stranger 


The  Eliza- 

HF.THAN 

Poets 


424 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


than  the  tales  which  weather-beaten  mariners  from  the  Southern  Seas 
were  telling  every  day  to  grave  merchants  upon  'Change.  The  very  in- 
congruities of  the  story  of  Arthur  and  his  knighthood,  strangely  as  it 
had  been  built  up  out  of  the  rival  efforts  of  bard  and  jongleur  and  priest, 
made  it  the  fittest  vehicle  for  the  expression  of  the  world  of  incongruous 
feeling  which  we  call  the  Renascence.  To  modern  eyes  perhaps  there 
is  something  grotesque  in  the  strange  medley  of  figures  which  crowd 
the  canvas  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen,"  in  its  fauns  dancing  on  the  sward 
where  knights  have  hurtled  together,  in  its  alternation  of  the  salvage 
men  from  the  New  World  with  the  satyrs  of  classic  mythology,  in 
the  giants,  dwarfs,  and  monsters  of  popular  fancy,  who  jostle  with 
the  nymphs  of  Greek  legend  and  the  damosels  of  mediaeval  romance. 
But,  strange  as  the  medley  is,  it  reflects  truly  enough  the  stranger 
medley  of  warring  ideals  and  irreconcileable  impulses  which  made  up 
the  life  of  Spenser's  contemporaries.  It  was  not  in  the  "  Faerie  Queen" 
only,  but  in  the  world  which  it  pourtrayed,  that  the  religious  mysticism 
of  the  Middle  Ages  stood  face  to  face  with  the  intellectual  freedom  of 
the  Revival  of  Letters,  that  asceticism  and  self-denial  cast  their  spell 
on  imaginations  glowing  with  the  sense  of  varied  and  inexhaustible 
existence,  that  the  dreamy  and  poetic  refinement  of  feeling  which  ex- 
pressed itself  in  the  fanciful  unrealities  of  chivalry  co-existed  with  the 
rough  practical  energy  that  sprang  from  an  awakening  sense  of  human 
power,  or  the  lawless  extravagance  of  an  idealized  friendship  and  love 
lived  side  by  side  with  the  moral  sternness  and  elevation  which  England 
was  drawing  from  the  Reformation  and  the  Bible.  But  strangely  con- 
trasted as  are  the  elements  of  the  poem,  they  are  harmonized  by  the 
calmness  and  serenity  which  is  the  note  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen."  The 
world  of  the  Renascence  is  around  us,  but  it  is  ordered,  refined,  and 
calmed  by  the  poet's  touch.  The  warmest  scenes  which  he  borrows 
from  the  Italian  verse  of  his  day  are  idealized  into  purity  ;  the  very 
struggle  of  the  men  around  him  is  lifted  out  of  its  pettier  accidents, 
and  raised  into  a  spiritual  oneness  with  the  struggle  in  the  soul  itselC 
There  are  allusions  in  plenty  to  contemporary  events,  but  the  contest 
between  Elizabeth  and  Mary  takes  ideal  form  in  that  of  Una  and  the 
false  Duessa,and  the  clash  of  arms  between  Spain  and  the  Huguenots 
comes  to  us  faint  and  hushed  through  the  serener  air.  The  verse,  like 
the  story,  rolls  on  as  by  its  own  natural  power,  without  haste  or  eflfort 
or  delay.  The  gorgeous  colouring,  the  profuse  and  often  complex 
imagery  which  Spenser's  imagination  lavishes,  leave  no  sense  of 
confusion  in  the  reader's  mind.  Every  fig^ure,  strange  as  it  may  be,  is 
seen  clearly  and  distinctly  as  it  passes  by.  It  is  in  this  calmness,  this 
serenity,  this  spiritual  elevation  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen,"  that  we  feel  the 
new  life  of  the  coming  age  moulding  into  ordered  and  harmonious 
form  the  life  of  the  Renascence.  Both  in  its  conception,  and  in  the  way 
in  which  this  conception  is  realized  in  the  portion  of  his  work  which 


vn.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


425 


Sprnser  completed,  his  poem  strikes  the  note  of  the  coming  Puritanism. 
In  nis  earher  pastoral,  the  "  Shepherd's  Calendar,"  the  poet  had  boldly- 
taken  his  part  with  the  more  advanced  reformers  against  the  Church 
pohcy^  of  the  Court.  He  had  chosen  Archbishop  Grindal,  who  was 
then  in  disgrace  for  his  Puritan  sympathies,  as  his  model  of  a  Chris- 
tian pastor  ;  and  attacked  with  sharp  invective  the  pomp  of  the  higher 
clergy.  His  "  Faerie  Queen,"  in  its  religious  theory,  is  Puritan  to 
the  core.  The  worst  foe  of  its  "Red-cross  Knight"  is  the  false  and 
scarlet-clad  Duessa  of  Rome,  who  parts  him  for  a  while  from  Truth 
and  leads  him  to  the  house  of  Pride.  Spenser  presses  strongly 
and  pitilessly  for  the  execution  of  Mary  Stuart.  No  bitter  word  ever 
breaks  the  calm  of  his  verse  save  when  it  touches  on  the  perils  with 
which  Catholicism  was  environing  England,  perils  before  which  his 
knight  must  fall  "  were  not  that  Heavenly  Grace  doth  him  uphold 
and  steadfast  Truth  acquite  him  out  of  all."  But  it  is  yet  more  in 
the  temper  and  aim  of  his  work  that  we  catch  the  nobler  and 
deeper  tones  of  English  Puritanism.  In  his  earlier  musings  at  Pens- 
hurst  the  poet  had  purposed  to  surpass  Ariosto,  but  the  gaiety  of 
Ariosto's  song  is  utterly  absent  from  his  own.  Not  a  ripple  of  laughter 
breaks  the  calm  surface  of  Spenser's  verse.  He  is  habitually  serious, 
and  the  seriousness  of  his  poetic  tone  reflects  the  seriousness  of  his 
poetic  purpose.  His  aim,  he  tells  us,  was  to  represent  the  moral 
virtues,  to  assign  to  each  its  knightly  patron,  so  that  its  excellence 
might  be  expressed  and  its  contrary  vice  trodden  under  foot  by  deeds 
of  arms  and  chivalry.  In  knight  after  knight  of  the  twelve  he  pur- 
posed to  paint,  he  wished  to  embody  some  single  virtue  of  the  virtuous 
man  in  its  struggle  with  the  faults  and  errors  which  specially  beset  it  ; 
till  in  Arthur,  the  sum  of  the  whole  company,  man  might  have  been 
seen  perfected,  in  his  longing  and  progress  towards  the  "  Faerie 
Queen,"  the  Divine  Glory  which  is  the  true  end  of  human  effort.  The 
largeness  of  his  culture  indeed,  his  exquisite  sense  of  beauty,  and 
above  all  the  very  intensity  of  his  moral  enthusiasm,  saved  Spenser 
from  the  narrowness  and  exaggeration  which  often  distorted  goodness 
into  unloveliness  in  the  Puritan.  Christian  as  he  is  to  the  core,  his 
Christianity  is  enriched  and  fertilized  by  the  larger  temper  of  the 
Renascence,  as  well  as  by  a  poet's  love  of  the  natural  world  in  which 
the  older  mythologies  struck  their  roots.  Diana  and  the  gods  of 
heathendom  take  a  sacred  tinge  from  the  purer  sanctities  of  the  new 
faith  ;  and  in  one  of  the  greatest  songs  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen,"  the 
conception  of  love  widens,  as  it  widened  in  the  mind  of  a  Greek,  into 
the  mighty  thought  of  the  productive  energy  of  Nature.  Spenser 
borrows  in  fact  the  delicate  and  refined  forms  of  the  Platonist  philosophy 
to  express  his  own  moral  enthusiasm.  Not  only  does  he  love,  as 
others  have  loved,  all  that  is  noble  and  pure  and  of  good  report,  but  he 
is  fired  as  none  before  or  after  him  have  been  fired  with  a  passionate 


Sec.  VII. 

The   Eliza- 
bethan 
Poets 


426 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


sense  of  moral  beauty.  Justice,  Temperance,  Truth,  are  no  mere 
names  to  him,  but  real  existences  to  which  his  whole  nature  clings 
with  a  rapturous  affection.  Outer  beauty  he  believed  to  spring,  and 
loved  because  it  sprang,  from  the  beauty  of  the  soul  within.  There 
was  much  in  such  a  moral  protest  as  this  to  rouse  dislike  in  any  age, 
but  it  is  the  glory  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth  that,  "mad  world"  as  in 
many  ways  it  was,  all  that  was  noble  welcomed  the  "  Faerie  Queen." 
Elizabeth  herself,  says  Spenser,  "to  mine  oaten  pipe  inclined  her  ear," 
and  bestowed  a  pension  on  the  poet.  In  1595  he  brought  three  more 
books  of  his  poem  to  England.  He  returned  to  Ireland,  to  com- 
memorate his  marriage  in  Sonnets  and  the  most  beautiful  of  bridal 
son js,  and  to  complete  the  "  Faerie  Queen  "  amongst  love  and  poverty 
and  troubles  from  his  Irish  neighbours.  But  these  troubles  soon  took 
a  graver  form.  In  1599  Ireland  broke  into  revolt,  and  the  poet 
escaped  from  his  burning  house  to  fly  to  England,  and  to  die  broken- 
hearted in  an  inn  at  Westminster. 

If  the  "  Faerie  Queen"  expressed  the  higher  elements  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan age,  the  whole  of  that  age,  its  lower  elements  and  its  higher 
alike,  was  expressed  in  the  English  drama.  We  have  already  pointed 
out  the  circumstances  which  throughout  Europe  were  giving  a  poetic 
impulse  to  the  newly-aroused  intelligence  of  men,  and  this  impulse 
everywhere  took  a  dramatic  shape.  The  artificial  French  tragedy 
which  began  about  this  time  with  Garnier  was  not,  indeed,  destined 
to  exert  any  influence  over  English  poetry  till  a  later  age  ;  but  the 
influence  of  the  Italian  comedy,  which  had  begun  half  a  century  earlier 
with  Machiavelli  and  /^riosto,  was  felt  directly  through  the  Novelle, 
or  stories,  which  served  as  plots  for  the  dramatists.  It  left  its  stamp 
indeed  on  some  of  the  worst  characteristics  of  the  English  stage.  The 
features  of  our  drama  that  startled  the  moral  temper  of  the  time  and 
won  the  deadly  hatred  of  the  Puritan,  its  grossness  and  profanity,  its 
tendency  to  scenes  of  horror  and  crime,  its  profuse  employment  of 
cruelty  and  lust  as  grounds  of  dramatic  action,  its  daring  use  of  the 
horrible  and  the  unnatural  whenever  they  enable  it  to  display  the  more 
terrible  and  revolting  sides  of  hunan  passion,  were  derived  from  the 
Italian  stage.  It  is  doubtful  how  much  the  English  playwrights  may 
have  owed  to  the  Spanish  drama,  that  under  Lope  and  Cervantes 
sprang  suddenly  into  a  grandeur  which  almost  rivalled  their  own.  In 
the  intermixture  of  tragedy  and  comedy,  in  the  abandonment  of  the 
solenm  uniformity  of  poetic  diction  for  the  colloquial  language  of  real 
life,  the  use  of  unexpected  incidents,  the  complications  of  their  plots 
and  intrigues,  the  dramas  of  England  and  Spain  arc  remarkably  alike  ; 
but  the  likeness  seems  rather  to  have  sprung  from  a  similarity  in  the 
circumstances  to  which  both  owed  their  rise,  than  from  any  direct 
connection  of  the  one  with  the  other.  The  real  origin  of  the  English 
drama,  in  fact,  lay  not  in  any  influence  from  without,  but  in  the  influ- 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


427 


ence  of  England  itself.  The  temper  of  the  nation  was  dramatic.  Ever 
since  the  Reformation,  the  Palace,  the  Inns  of  Court,  and  the  University 
had  been  vyeing  with  one  another  in  the  production  of  plays  ;  and 
so  early  was  their  popularity,  that  even  under  Henry  the  Eighth  it  was 
found  necessary  to  create  a  "  Master  of  the  Revels"  to  supervise  them. 
Every  progress  of  Elizabeth  from  shire  to  shire  was  a  succession 
of  shows  and  interludes.  Dian  with  her  nymphs  met  the  Queen 
as  she  returned  from  hunting  ;  Love  presented  her  with  his  golden 
arrow  as  she  passed  through  the  gates  of  Norwich.  From  the 
earher  years  of  her  reign,  the  new  spirit  of  the  Renascence  had 
been  pouring  itself  into  the  rough  mould  of  the  Mystery  Plays, 
whose  allegorical  virtues  and  vices,  or  scriptural  heroes  and  heroines, 
had  handed  on  the  spirit  of  the  drama  through  the  Middle  Ages. 
Adaptations  from  classical  pieces  soon  began  to  alternate  with  the 
purely  religious  "Moralities;"  and  an  attempt  at  a  Hvelier  style  of 
expression  and  invention  appeared  in  the  popular  comedy  of  "  Gammer 
Gurton's  Needle  ; ''  while  Sackville,  Lord  Dorset,  in  his  tragedy  of 
"Gorboduc"  made  a  bold  effort  at  sublimity  of  diction,  and  intro- 
duced the  use  of  blank  verse  as  the  vehicle  of  dramatic  dialogue. 
But  it  was  not  to  these  tentative  efforts  of  scholars  and  nobles  that  the 
English  stage  was  really  indebted  for  the  amazing  outburst  of  genius, 
which  dates  from  the  moment  when  "  the  Earl  of  Leicester's  S2rvants" 
erected  the  first  public  theatre  in  Blackfriars.  It  was  the  people  itself 
that  created  its  Stage.  The  theatre,  indeed,  was  commonly  only  the 
courtyard  of  an  inn,  or  a  mere  booth  such  as  is  still  seen  at  a  country 
fair  ;  the  bulk  of  the  audience  sate  beneath  the  open  sky  in  the  "  pit " 
or  yard,  a  few  covered  seats  in  the  galleries  which  ran  round  it  formed 
the  boxes  of  the  wealthier  spectators,  while  patrons  and  nobles  found 
seats  upon  the  actual  boards.  All  the  appliances  were  of  the  roughest 
sort :  a  few  flowers  served  to  indicate  a  garden,  crowds  and  armies 
were  represented  by  a  dozen  scene-shifters  with  swords  and  bucklers, 
heroes  rode  in  and  out  on  hobby-horses,  and  a  scroll  on  a  post  told 
whether  the  scene  was  at  Athens  or  London  There  were  no  female 
actors,  and  the  grossness  which  startles  us  in  words  which  fell  from 
women's  lips  took  a  different  colour  when  every  woman's  part  was 
acted  by  a  boy.  But  difficulties  such  as  these  were  more  than  com- 
pensated by  the  popular  character  of  the  drama  itself  Rude  as  the 
theatre  might  be,  all  the  world  was  there.  The  stage  was  crowded 
with  nobles  and  courtiers.  Apprentices  and  citizens  thronged  the 
benches  in  the  yard  below.  The  rough  mob  of  the  pit  inspired,  as 
it  felt,  the  vigorous  life,  the  rapid  transitions,  the  passionate  energy^ 
the  reality,  the  lifehke  medley  and  confusion,  the  racy  dialogue,  the 
chat,  the  wit,  the  pathos,  the  sublimity,  the  rant  and  buffoonery,  the 
coarse  horrors  and  vulgar  bloodshedding,  the  immense  range  over  all 
classes  of  society,  the  intimacy  with  the  foulest  as  well  as  the  fairest 


42S 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap 


developements  of  human  temper,  which  characterized  the  English  stage. 
The  new  drama  represented  "  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time,  his 
form  and  pressure."  The  people  itself  brought  its  nobleness  and  its 
vileness  to  the  boards.  No  stage  was  ever  so  human,  no  poetic  life  so 
intense.  Wild,  reckless,  defiant  of  all  past  tradition,  of  all  conventional 
laws,  the  English  dramatists  owned  no  teacher,  no  source  of  poetic 
inspiration,  but  the  people  itself. 

Few  events  in  our  literary  history  are  so  startHng  as  this  sudden 
rise  of  the  Elizabethan  drama.  The  first  public  theatre,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  erected  only  in  the  middle  of  the  Queen's  reign.  Before  the 
close  of  it  eighteen  theatres  existed  in  London  alone.  Fifty  dramatic 
poets,  many  of  the  first  order,  appeared  in  the  fifty  years  which  pre- 
cede the  closing  of  the  theatres  by  the  Puritans  ;  and  great  as  is  the 
number  of  their  works  which  have  perished,  we  still  possess  a  hundred 
dramas,  all  written  within  this  period,  and  of  which  at  least  a  half  are 
excellent.  A  glance  at  their  authors  shows  us  that  the  intellectual 
quickening  of  the  age  had  now  reached  the  mass  of  the  people. 
Almost  all  of  the  new  playwrights  were  fairly  educated,  and  many  were 
University  men.  But,  instead  of  courtly  singers  of  the  Sidney  and 
Spenser  sort,  we  see  the  advent  of  the  "  poor  scholar."  The  earlier 
dramatists,  such  as  Nash,  Per le,  Kyd,  Greene,  or  Marlowe,  were  for 
the  most  part  poor,  and  reckless  in  their  poverty  ;  wild  livers,  defiant 
of  law  or  common  fame,  in  revolt  against  the  usages  and  religion  of 
their  day,  "atheists  "  in  general  repute,  "  holding  Moses  for  a  juggler," 
haunting  the  brothel  and  the  alehouse,  and  dying  starved  or  in  tavern 
brawls.  But  with  their  appearance  began  the  Elizabethan  drama. 
The  few  plays  which  have  reached  us  of  an  earlier  date  are  either 
cold  imitations  of  the  classical  and  Italian  comedy,  or  rude  farces 
like  "Ralph  Roister  Doister,"  or  tragedies  such  as  "  Gorboduc," 
where,  poetic  as  occasional  passages  may  be,  there  is  little  promise  of 
dramatic  developement.  But  in  the  year  which  preceded  the  coming 
of  the  Armada  the  whole  aspect  of  the  stage  suddenly  changes,  and 
the  new  dramatists  range  themselves  around  two  men  of  very  diflferent 
genius,  Robert  Greene  ;.nd  Christopher  Marlowe.  Of  Greene,  as  the 
creator  of  our  lighter  English  prose,  we  have  already  spoken.  But  his 
work  as  a  poet  was  of  yet  greater  importance,  for  his  keen  perception 
of  character  and  the  relations  of  social  life,  the  playfulness  of  his 
fancy,  and  the  liveliness  of  his  style  exerted  an  influence  on  his  cm- 
temporaries,  which  was  equalled  by  that  of  none  but  Marlowe  and 
I'ecle.  No  figure  better  paints  the  group  of  young  playwrights.  He 
left  Cambridge  to  travel  through  Italy  and  Sp.iin,  and  to  bring  back 
the  debauchery  of  the  one  and  the  srepticism  of  the  other.  In  the 
words  of  remorse  he  wrote  before  his  <leath  he  paints  himself  as  a 
drunkard  and  a  roysterer,  winning  money  only  by  ceaseless  pamphlets 
and  plays  to  waste  it  on  wine  and  women,  and  drinking  the  cup  of 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


429 


life  to  the  dregs.  Hell  and  the  after- world  were  the  butts  of  his 
ceaseless  mockery.  If  he  had  not  feared  the  judges  of  the  Queen's 
Courts  more  than  he  feared  God,  he  said,  in  bitter  jest,  he  should 
often  have  turned  cutpurse.  He  married,  and  loved  his  wife,  but  she 
was  soon  deserted  ;  and  the  wretched  profligate  found  himself  again 
plunged  into  excesses  which  he  loathed,  though  he  could  not  live  with- 
out them.  But  wild  as  was  the  life  of  Greene,  his  pen  was  pure.  He 
is  steadily  on  virtue's  side  in  the  love  pamphlets  and  novelettes  he 
poured  out  in  endless  succession,  and  whose  plots  were  dramatized 
by  the  school  which  gathered  round  him.  The  life  of  Marlowe  was 
as  riotous,  his  scepticism  even  more  daring,  than  the  life  and  sceptic- 
ism of  Greene.  His  early  death  alone  saved  him,  in  all  probability, 
from  a  prosecution  for  atheism.  He  was  charged  with  calling  Moses 
a  juggler,  and  with  boasting  that,  if  he  undertook  to  write  a  new 
religion,  it  should  be  a  better  religion  than  the  Christianity  he  saw 
around  him.  But  he  stood  far  ahead  of  his  fellows  as  a  creator  of 
English  tragedy.  Born  at  the  opening  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  son  of 
a  Canterbury  shoemaker,  but  educated  at  Cambridge,  Marlowe  burst 
on  the  world  in  the  year  which  preceded  the  triumph  over  the  Armada, 
with  a  play  which  at  once  wrought  a  revolution  in  the  English  stage. 
Bombastic  and  extravagant  as  it  was,  and  extravagance  reached  its 
height  in  the  scene  where  captive  kings,  the  "pampered  jades  of  Asia," 
drew  their  conqueror's  car  across  the  stage,  "  Tamburlaine"  not  only 
indicated  the  revolt  of  the  new  drama  against  the  timid  inanities  of 
Euphuism,  but  gave  an  earnest  of  that  imaginative  daring,  the  secret 
of  which  Marlowe  was  to  bequeath  to  the  playwrights  who  followed 
him.  He  perished  at  twenty-nine  in  a  shameful  brawl,  but  in  his  brief 
career  he  had  struck  the  grander  notes  of  the  coming  drama.  His 
Jew  of  Malta  was  the  herald  of  Shylock.  He  opened  in  "  Edward  the 
Second"  the  s'eries  of  historical  plays  which  gave  us  "Caesar"  and 
"'  Richard  the  Third."  Riotous,  grotesque,  and  full  of  a  mad  thirst  for 
pleasure  as  it  is,  his  "  Faustus"  was  the  first  dramatic  attempt  to  touch 
the  great  problem  of  the  relations  of  man  to  the  unseen  world,  to  paint 
the  power  of  doubt  in  a  temper  leavened  with  superstition,  the  daring 
of  human  defiance  in  a  heart  abandoned  to  despair.  Extravagant, 
unequal,  stooping  even  to  the  ridiculous  in  his  cumbrous  and  vulgar 
buffoonery,  there  is  a  force  in  Marlowe,  a  conscious  grandeur  of  tone, 
a  range  of  passion,  which  sets  him  above  all  his  contemporaries 
save  one.  In  the  higher  qualities  of  imagination,  as  in  the  majesty 
and  sweetness  of  his  "  mighty  line,"  he  is  inferior  to  Shakspere  alone. 

A  few  daring  jests,  a  brawl  and  a  fatal  stab,  make  up  the  life  of 
Marlowe  ;  but  even  details  such  as  these  are  wanting  to  the  life  of 
William  Shakspere.  Of  hardly  any  great  poet,  indeed,  do  we  know 
so  little.  For  the  story  of  his  youth  we  have  only  one  or  two  trifling 
legends,  and  these   almost  certainly  false.     Not  a  single  letter  or 


The  Eliza- 

I'.RTHAN 
Foh.  IS 


430 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


characteristic  saying,  not  one  of  the  jests  "spoken  at  the  Mermaid," 
hardly  a  single  anecdote,  remain  to  illustrate  his  busy  life  in  London. 
His  look  and  figure  in  later  age  have  been  preserved  by  the  bust  over 
his  tomb  at  Stratford,  and  a  hundred  years  after  his  death  he  was 
still  remembered  in  his  native  town  ;  but  the  minute  diligence  of  the 
enquirers  of  the  Georgian  time  was  able  to  glean  hardly  a  single 
detail,  even  of  t'  e  most  trivial  order,  which  could  throw  light  upon 
the  years  of  retirement  before  his  death.  It  is  owing  perhaps  to  the 
harmony  and  unity  of  his  temper  that  no  salient  peculiarity  seems  to 
have  left  its  trace  on  the  memory  of  his  contemporaries  ;  it  is  the 
very  grandeur  of  his  genius  which  precludes  us  from  discovering  any 
personal  trait  in  his  works.  His  supposed  self-revelation  in  the 
Sonnets  is  so  obscure  that  only  a  few  outlines  can  be  traced  even  by 
the  boldest  conjecture.  In  his  dramas  he  is  all  his  charajters,  and  his 
characters  range  over  all  mankind.  There  is  not  one,  or  the  act  or 
word  of  one,  that  we  can  identify  personally  with  the  poet  himself. 

He  was  born  in  the  sixth  year  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  twelve  years 
after  the  birth  of  Spenser,  three  years  later  than  the  birth  of  Bacon. 
Marlowe  was  of  the  same  age  with  Shakspere  :  Greene  probably  a  few 
years  older.  His  father,  a  glover  and  small  farmer  of  Stralford-on- 
Avon,  was  forced  by  poverty  to  lay  down  his  office  of  alderman,  as  his 
son  reached  boyhood  ;  and  stress  of  poverty  may  have  been  the  cause 
which  drove  William  Shakspere,  who  was  already  married  at  eighteen 
to  a  wife  older  than  himself,  to  London  and  the  stage.  His  life  in  the 
capital  can  hardly  have  begun  later  than  in  his  twenty-third  year,  the 
memorable  year  which  followed  Sidney's  death,  which  preceded  the 
coming  of  the  Armada,  and  which  witnessed  the  production  of  Marlowe's 
"  Tam.urlaine."  If  we  take  the  language  of  the  Sonnets  as  a  record 
of  his  personal  feehng,  his  new  profession  as  an  actor  stirred  in  him 
only  the  bitterness  of  self-contempt.  He  chides  with  Fortune,  "that 
did  not  better  for  my  life  provide  than  public  means  that  public  man- 
ners breed  ; "  he  writhes  at  the  thought  that  he  has  *'  made  himself  a 
motley  to  the  view  of  the  gaping  apprentices  in  the  pit  of  Hlackfriars. 
"  Thence  comes  it,"  he  adds,  "  that  my  name  receives  a  brand,  and 
almost  thence  my  nature  is  subdued  to  that  it  works  in."  But  the 
application  of  the  words  is  a  more  than  doubtful  one.  In  spile  of 
petty  squabbles  with  some  of  his  dramatic  rivals  at  the  outset  of  his 
career,  ihe  genial  nature  of  the  new  comer  seems  to  have  won  him  a 
general  love  among  his  fellow  actors.  In  1592,  while  still  a  more 
fitter  of  old  plays  for  the  stage,  a  fellow  playwright,  Chettle,  answered 
(Greene's  attack  on  him  in  words  of  honest  affection  :  "  Myself  have 
seen  his  demeanour  no  less  civil,  than  he  excellent  in  the  quality  he 
professes :  besides,  divers  of  worship  have  reported  his  uprightness  of 
dealing,  which  ar.;ues  his  honesty  ;  and  his  facetious  grace  in  writing, 
that  approves  his  art."     His  partner  Burbage   spoke  of  him  after 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


431 


death  as  a  "worthy  friend  and  fellow;"  and  Jonson  handed  down 
the  general  tradition  of  his  time  when  he  described  him  as  "  indeed 
honest,  and  of  an  open  and  free  nature."  His  profession  as  an  actor 
was  of  essential  service  to  him  in  his  poetic  career.  Not  only  did  it 
give  him  the  sense  of  theatrical  necessities  which  makes  his  plays 
so  effective  on  the  boards,  but  it  enabled  him  to  bring  his  pieces  as  he 
wrote  them  to  the  test  of  the  stage.  If  there  is  any  truth  in  Jonson's 
statement  that  Shakspere  never  blotted  a  line,  there  is  no  justice  in 
the  censure  which  it  implies  on  his  carelessness  or  incorrectness. 
The  conditions  of  poetic  publication  were  in  fact  wholly  different  from 
those  of  our  own  day.  A  drama  remained  for  years  in  manuscript 
as  an  acting  piece,  subject  to  continual  revision  and  amendment ;  and 
every  rehearsal  and  representation  afforded  hints  for  change  which  we 
know  the  young  poet  was  far  from  neglecting.  The  chance  which  has 
preserved  an  earlier  edition  of  his  "Hamlet"  shows  in  what  an  unspar- 
ing way  Shakspere  could  recast  even  the  finest  products  of  his  genius. 
Five  years  after  the  supposed  date  of  his  arrival  in  London,  he  was 
already  famous  as  a  dramatist.  Greene  speaks  bitterly  of  him,  under 
the  name  of  "  Shakescene,"  as  an  "  upstart  crow  beautified  with  our 
feathers,"  a  sneer  which  points  either  to  his  celebrity  as  an  actor,  or 
to  his  preparation  for  loftier  flights  by  fitting  pieces  of  his  predecessors 
for  the  stage.  He  was  soon  partner  in  the  theatre,  actor,  and  play- 
wright;  and  another  nickname,  that  of  "Johannes  Factotum,'  or 
Jack-of-all-Trades,  shows  his  readiness  to  take  all  honest  work  which 
came  to  hand. 

With  the  poem  of  "  Venus  and  Adonis,"  "  the  first  heir  of  my  inven- 
tion," as  Shakspere  calls  it,  the  period  of  independent  creation  fairly 
began.  The  date  of  its  publication  was  a  very  memorable  one.  The 
"  Faerie  Queen  "  had  appeared  only  three  years  before,  and  had  placed 
Spenser  without  a  rival  at  the  head  of  English  poetry.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  two  leading  dramatists  of  the  time  passed  at  this 
moment  suddenly  away.  Greene  died  in  poverty  and  self-reproach 
in  the  house  of  a  poor  shoemaker.  "  Doll,"  he  wrote  to  the  wife  he 
had  abandoned,  "  I  charge  thee,  by  the  love  of  our  youth  and  by  my 
soul's  rest,  that  thou  wilt  see  this  man  paid  ;  for  if  he  and  his  wife  had 
not  succoured  me,  I  had  died  in  the  streets."  "  Oh,  that  a  year  were 
granted  me  to  live,"  cried  the  young  poet  from  his  bed  of  death — "  but  I 
must  die,  of  every  man  abhorred  !  Time,  loosely  spent,  will  not  again 
be  won  !  My  time  is  loosely  spent — and  I  undone  !  "  A  year  later,  the 
death  of  Marlowe  in  a  street  brawl  removed  the  only  rival  whose 
powers  might  have  equalled  Shakspere's  own.  He  was  now  about 
thirty  ;  and  the  twenty-three  years  which  elapsed  between  the  appear- 
ance of  the  "  Adonis  "  and  his  death  were  filled  with  a  series  of  master- 
pieces. Nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  his  genius  than  its  incessant 
activity.     Through  the  five  years  which  followed  the  publication  of  his 


432 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


early  poem  he  seems  to  have  produced  on  an  average  two  dramas  a 
year.  When  we  attempt,  however,  to  trace  the  growth  and  progress 
of  the  poet's  mind  in  the  order  of  his  plays,  we  are  met,  at  least  in  the 
case  of  many  of  them,  by  an  absence  of  certain  information  as  to  the 
dates  of  their  appearance.  The  facts  on  which  enquiry  has  to  build  are 
extremely  few.  "  Venus  and  Adonis,"  with  the  "  Lucrece,"  must  have 
been  written  before  their  publication  in  1593-4;  the  Sonnets,  though  not 
published  till  1609,  were  known  in  some  fonn  among  his  private  friends 
as  early  as  1598.  His  earlier  plays  are  defined  by  a  list  given  in  the 
"  Wit's  Treasury"  of  F'rancis  Meres  in  1598,  though  the  omission  of  a 
play  from  a  casual  catalogue  of  this  kind  would  hardly  warrant  us  in  as- 
sumin<,r  its  necessary  non-existence  at  the  time.  The  works  ascribed  to 
him  at  his  death  are  fixed,  in  the  same  approximate  fashion,  through 
the  edition  published  by  his  fellow-actors.  Beyond  these  meagre  facts, 
and  our  knowledge  of  the  publication  of  a  few  of  his  dramas  in  his 
lifetime,  all  is  uncertain  ;  and  the  conclusions  which  have  been  drawn 
from  these,  and  from  the  dramas  themselves,  as  well  as  from  assumed 
resemblances  with,  or  references  to,  other  plays  of  the  period,  can  only 
be  accepted  as  approximations  to  the  truth.  The  bulk  of  his  lighter 
comedies  and  historical  dramas  can  be  assigned  with  fair  probability 
to  the  period  from  about  1 593,  when  he  was  known  as  nothing  more  than 
an  adapter,  to  1 598,  when  they  are  mentioned  in  the  list  of  Meres.  They 
bear  on  them  indeed  the  stamp  of  youth.  In  "  Love's  Labour's  Lost" 
the  young  playwright,  fresh  from  his  own  Stratford,  flings  himself  into 
the  midst  of  the  brilliant  England  which  gathered  round  Elizabeth, 
busying  himself  as  yet  for  the  most  part  with  the  surface  of  it,  with  the 
humours  and  quixotisms,  the  wit  and  the  whim,  the  unreality,  the  fan- 
tastic extravagance,  which  veiled  its  inner  nobleness.  Country  lad  as 
he  is,  he  can  exchange  quip  and  repartee  with  the  best ;  he  quizzes  the 
verbal  wit  and  high-flown  extravagance  of  thought  and  phrase  which 
Euphues  had  made  fashionable  in  the  court  world  of  the  time.  He 
shares  the  delight  in  existence  which  was  so  marked  a  feature  of  the  age ; 
he  enjoys  the  mistakes,  the  contrasts,  the  adventures,  of  the  men  about 
him  ;  his  fun  breaks  almost  riotously  out  in  the  practical  jokes  of  the 
"Taming  of  the  Shrew"  and  the  endless  blunderings  of  the  "  Comedy 
of  Errors."  His  work  is  as  yet  marked  by  little  poetic  elevation,  or  by 
passion  ;  but  the  easy  grace  of  the  dialogue,  the  dexterous  management 
of  a  complicated  story,  the  genial  gaiety  of  his  tone,  and  the  music  of 
his  verse,  promised  a  master  of  social  comedy  as  soon  as  Shakspere 
turned  from  the  superficial  aspects  of  the  world  about  him  to  find  a  new 
delight  in  the  character  and  actions  of  men.  In  the"  Two  Gentlemen 
of  Verona,"  his  painting  of  manners  was  suflTuscd  by  a  tenderness  and 
ideal  beauty,  which  formed  an  effective  protest  against  the  hard  though 
vigorous  character-painting  which  the  first  success  of  Hen  Jonson  in 
"  Every  Man  in  his  Humour"  brought  at  the  time  into  fashicn.     Bui 


VJI.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


433 


quick  on  these  lighter  comedies  followed  two,  in  which  his  genius  started 
fully  into  life.  His  po3tic  power,  held  in  reserve  till  now,  showed  itself 
with  a  splendid  profusion  in  the  brilliant  fancies  of  the  "  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream  ; "  and  passion  swept  like  a  tide  of  resistless  delight 
through  "  Romeo  and  Juliet."  Side  by  side  hov/ever  with  these 
passionate  dreams,  these  delicate  imaginings  and  piquant  s': etches  of 
manners,  had  been  appearing  during  this  short  interval  of  intense 
activity  his  historical  dramas.  No  plays  seem  to  have  been  more 
popular,  from  the  earliest  hours  of  the  new  stage,  than  dramatic  repre- 
sentations of  our  history.  Marlowe  had  shown  in  his  ''  Edward  the 
Second  "  what  tragic  grandeur  could  be  reached  in  this  favourite  field  ; 
and,  as  we  have  seen,  Shakspere  had  been  led  naturally  towards  it  by 
his  earlier  occupation  as  an  adapter  of  stock  pieces  like  "  Henry  the 
Sixth  "  for  the  new  requirements  of  the  stage.  He  still  to  some  extent 
followed  in  plan  the  older  plays  on  the  subjects  he  selected,  but  in  his 
treatment  of  their  themes  he  shoo'-:  boldly  off  the  yoke  of  the  past.  A 
larger  and  deeper  conception  of  human  character  than  any  of  X^e  old 
dramatists  had  reached  displayed  itself  in  Richard  the  Third,  in 
Falstaff,  or  in  Hotspur  ;  while  in  Constance  and  Richard  the  Second 
the  pathos  of  human  suffering  was  painted  as  even  Marlowe  had  never 
dared  to  paint  it.  No  dramas  have  done  so  much  for  Shakspere's 
enduring  popularity  with  his  countrymen  as  these  historical  plays. 
Nowhere  is  the  spirit  of  our  history  so  nobly  rendered.  If  the  poet's 
work  echoes  sometimes  our  national  prejudice  and  unfairness  of  temper, 
it  is  instinct  throughout  with  English  humour,  with  our  English  love  of 
hard  fighting,  our  English  faith  in  goodness  and  in  the  doom  that  waits 
upon  triumphant  evil,  our  English  pity  for  the  fallen. 

Whether  as  a  tragedian  or  as  a  writer  of  social  ccnnedy,  ShaVspere 
had  now  passed  far  beyond  his  fellows.  "The  Muses,"  said  Meres, 
"  would  speak  with  Shakspere's  fine  filed  phrase,  if  ihey  would  speak 
English."  His  personal  popularity  was  at  its  height.  His  pleasant 
temper,  and  the  vivacity  of  his  wit,  had  drawn  him  early  into  contact 
with  the  young  Earl  of  Southampton,  to  whom  his  "Adonis"  and 
"  Lucrece  "  are  dedicated  ;  and  the  different  tone  of  the  two  dedications 
shows  how  rapidly  acquaintance  ripened  into  an  ardent  friendsh  p. 
Shakspere's  wealth  and  influence  too  were  growing  fast.  He  had 
property  both  in  Stratford  and  London,  and  his  fellow-townsmen  made 
him  their  sv.itor  to  Lord  Burleigh  for  favours  to  be  bestowed  on  Strat- 
ford. He  was  rich  enough  to  aid  his  father,  and  to  buy  the  house  at 
Stratford  which  afterwards  became  his  home.  The  tradition  that 
Elizabeth  was  so  pleased  with  Falstaff  in  "  Henry  the  Fourth'*  that 
she  ordered  the  poet  to  show  her  Falstaff  in  love — an  order  which 
produced  the  "Merry  Wives  of  Windsor"— whether  true  or  false, 
proves  his  repute  as  a  playwright.  As  the  group  of  earlier  poets 
passed  away,  they  found  successors  in  Marston,  Dekker    Middleton, 


434 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Heywood,  and  Chapman,  and  above  all  in  Ren  Jonson.  But  none  of 
these  could  dispute  the  supremacy  of  Shakspere.  The  verdict  of 
Meres,  that  "  Shakspere  among  the  English  is  the  most  excellent  in 
both  kinds  for  the  stage,"  represented  the  general  feeling  of  his  con- 
temporaries. He  was  at  last  fully  master  of  the  resources  of  his  art. 
The  "  Merchant  of  Venice ''  marks  the  perfection  of  his  developement 
as  a  dramatist  in  the  completeness  of  its  stage  effect,  the  ingenuity  of 
its  incidents,  the  ease  of  its  movement,  the  poetic  beauty  of  its  higher 
passages,  the  reserve  and  self-control  with  which  its  poetry  is  used,  the 
conception  and  unfolding  of  character,  and  above  all  the  mastery  with 
which  character  and  event  are  grouped  round  the  figure  of  Shylock. 
But  the  poet's  temper  is  still  young  ;  the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor" 
is  a  burst  of  gay  laughter  ;  and  laughter  more  tempered,  yet  full  of  a 
sweeter  fascination,  rings  round  us  in  "  As  You  Like  It."  But  in  the 
melancholy  and  meditative  Jacques  of  the  last  drama  we  feel  the  touch 
of  a  new  and  graver  mood.  Youth,  so  full  and  buoyant  in  the  poet  till 
now,  seems  to  have  passed  almost  suddenly  away.  Though  Shakspere 
had  hardly  reached  forty,  in  one  of  his  Sonnets  which  cannot  have 
been  written  at  a  much  later  time  than  this,  there  are  indications  that 
he  already  felt  the  advance  of  premature  age.  The  outer  world  sud- 
denly darkened  around  him.  The  brilliant  circle  of  young  nobles  whose 
friendship  he  had  shared  was  broken  up  by  the  political  storm  which 
burst  in  a  mad  struggle  of  the  Earl  of  Essex  for  power.  Essex  himself 
fell  on  the  scaffold  ;  his  friend  and  Shakspere's  idol,  Southampton, 
passed  a  prisoner  into  the  Tower  ;  Herbert,  Lord  Pembroke,  a  younger 
patron  of  the  poet,  was  banished  from  Court.  While  friends  were 
thus  falling  and  hopes  fading  without,  Shakspere's  own  mind 
seems  to  have  been  going  through  a  phase  of  bitter  suffering  and 
unrest.  In  spite  of  the  ingenuity  of  commentators,  it  is  difficult  and 
even  impossible  to  derive  any  knowledge  of  his  inner  history  from 
the  Sonnets  ;  "  the  strange  imagery  of  passion  which  passes  over 
the  magic  mirror,"  it  has  been  finely  said,  "  has  no  tangible  evidence 
before  or  behind  it."  But  its  mere  passing  is  itself  an  evidence 
of  the  restlessness  and  agony  within.  The  change  in  the  character 
of  his  dramas  gives  a  surer  indication  of  his  change  of  mood. 
The  joyousness  which  breathes  through  his  early  work  disappears  in 
comedies  such  as  "Troilus"and  "  Measure  for  Measure."  Failure  seems 
everywhere.  In  "Julius  Caesar"  the  virtue  of  Brutus  is  foiled  by  its 
ignorance  of  and  isolation  from  mankind  ;  in  Hamlet  even  penetrating 
intellect  proves  helpless  for  want  of  the  capacity  of  action  ;  the  poison 
of  1  ago  taints  the  love  of  Desdemona  and  the  grandeur  of  Othello; 
Lear's  mighty  passion  battles  helplessly  against  the  wind  and  the  rain  ; 
a  woman's  weakness  of  frame  dashes  the  cup  of  her  triumph  from 
the  hand  of  Lady  Macbeth  ;  lust  and  self-indulgence  blast  the  heroism 
of  Antony  ;  pride  ruins  the  nobleness  of  Coriolanus,     But  the  very 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


435 


struggle  and  self-introspection  that  these  dramas  betray  were  to  give 
a  depth  and  grandeur  to  Shakspere's  work  such  as  it  had  never  known 
before.  The  age  was  one  in  which  man's  temper  and  powers  took  a 
new  range  and  energy.  The  daring  of  the  adventurer,  the  philosophy 
of  the  scholar,  the  passion  of  the  lover,  the  fanaticism  of  the  saint, 
towered  into  almost  superhuman  grandeur.  Man  became  conscious 
of  the  immense  resources  that  lay  within  him,  conscious  of  boundless 
powers  that  seemed  to  mock  the  narrow  world  in  which  they  moved. 
It  is  this  grandeur  of  humanity  that  spreads  before  us  as  the  poet 
pictures  the  wide  speculation  of  Hamlet,  the  awful  convulsion  of  a 
great  nature  in  Othello,  the  terrible  storm  in  the  soul  of  Lear  which 
blends  with  the  very  storm  of  the  heavens  themselves,  the  fearful  ambi- 
tion that  nerved  a  woman's  hand  to  dabble  itself  with  the  blood  of  a 
murdered  king,  the  reckless  lust  that  "  flung  away  a  world  for  love." 
Amid  the  terror  and  awe  of  these  great  dramas  we  learn  something  of 
the  vast  forces  of  the  age  from  which  they  sprang.  The  passion  of 
Mary  Stuart,  the  ruthlessness  of  Alva,  the  daring  of  Drake,  the 
chivalry  of  Sidney,  the  range  of  thought  and  action  in  Ralegh  or 
Elizabeth,  come  better  home  to  us  as  we  follow  the  mighty  series  of 
tragedies  which  began  in  "  Hamlet"  and  ended  in  "  Coriolanus." 

Shakspere's  last  dramas,  the  three  exquisite  works  in  which  he 
shows  a  soul  at  rest  with  itself  and  with  the  world,  "  Cymbeline," 
"  The  Tempest,"  "  Winter's  Tale,"  were  written  in  the  midst  of  ease 
and  competence,  in  a  house  at  Stratford,  to  which  he  withdrew  a  few 
years  after  the  death  of  Elizabeth.  In  them  we  lose  all  relation  with 
the  world  or  the  time  and  pass  into  a  region  of  pure  poetry.  It  is  in  this 
peaceful  and  gracious  close  that  the  life  of  Shakspere  contrasts  with 
that  of  his  greatest  contemporaries.  Himself  Elizabethan  to  the  core, 
he  stood  at  the  meeting-point  of  two  great  epochs  of  our  history.  The 
age  of  the  Renascence  was  passing  into  the  age  of  Puritanism.  A  sterner 
Protestantism  was  invigorating  and  ennobling  life  by  its  morality,  its 
seriousness,  its  intense  conviction  of  God.  But  it  was  at  the  same  time 
hardening  and  narrowing  it.  The  Bible  was  superseding  Plutarch.  The 
'''  obstinate  questionings  "  which  haunted  the  finer  souls  of  the  Renas- 
cence were  being  stereotyped  into  the  theological  formulas  of  the 
Puritan.  The  sense  of  a  divine  omnipotence  was  annihilating  man. 
The  daring  which  turned  England  into  a  people  of  "  adventurers," 
the  sense  of  inexhaustible  resources,  the  buoyant  freshness  of  youth, 
the  intoxicating  sense  of  beauty  and  joy,  which  created  Sidney  and 
Marlowe  and  Drake,  were  passing  away  before  the  consciousness  of 
evil  and  the  craving  to  order  man's  life  aright  before  God.  A  new 
pohtical  world,  healthier,  more  really  national,  but  less  picturesque, 
less  wrapt  in  the  mystery  and  splendour  which  poets  love,  was  rising 
with  the  new  moral  world.  Rifts  which  were  still  little  were  widening 
hour  by  hour,  and  threatening  ruin  to  the  great  fabric  of  Church  and 


436 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap 


State,  which  the  Tudors  had  built  up,  and  to  which  the  men  of  the 
Renascence  clung  passionately.  From  this  new  world  of  thought  and 
feeling  Shakspere  stood  utterly  aloof.  Of  the  popular  tendencies  of 
Puritanism— and  great  as  were  its  faults,  Puritanism  may  fairly  claim  tc 
be  the  first  political  system  which  recognized  the  grandeur  of  the  people 
as  a  whole— Shakspere  knew  nothing.  His  roll  of  dramas  is  the  epic 
of  civil  war.  The  Wars  of  the  Roses  fill  his  mind,  as  they  filled  the 
mind  <'f  his  contemporaries.  It  is  not  till  we  follow  him  through  the 
series  of  plays  from  "Richard  the  Second"  to  "  Henry  the  Eighth" 
that  we  realize  how  profoundly  the  memory  of  the  struggle  between 
York  and  Lancaster  had  moulded  the  temper  of  the  people,  how  deep 
a  dread  of  civil  war,  of  baronial  turbulence,  of  disputes  over  the  suc- 
cession it  had  left  behind  it.  From  such  a  risk  the  Crown  seemed  the 
one  security.  With  Shakspere  as  with  his  contemporaries  the  Crown 
is  still  the  centre  and  safeguard  of  the  national  life.  His  ideal  England 
is  an  England  grouped  round  a  king  such  as  his  own  Henry  V.,  a 
born  ruler  of  men,  with  a  loyal  people  about  him,  and  his  enemies  at 
his  feet.  Socially  too  the  poet  reflects  the  aristocratic  view  of  life 
which  was  shared  by  all  the  nobler  spirits  of  the  Elizabethan  time. 
Coriolanus  is  the  embodiment  of  a  great  noble  ;  and  the  taunts  which 
Shakspere  hurls  in  play  after  play  at  the  rabble  only  echo  the  general 
temper  of  the  Renascence.  But  he  shows  no  sympathy  with  the 
struggle  of  feudalism  against  the  Crown.  He  had  grown  up  under  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  ;  he  had  known  no  ruler  save  on2  who  had  cast  a 
spell  over  the  hearts  of  Englishmen.  The  fear  of  misrule  was  dim 
and  distant;  his  thoughts  were  absorbed,  as  those  of  the  country  were 
absorbed,  in  the  struggle  for  national  existence,  and  the  heat  of  such 
a  struggle  left  no  time  for  the  thoughts  of  civil  liberty.  Nor  were 
the  spiritual  sympathies  of  the  poet  those  of  the  coming  time. 
Turn  as  others  might  to  the  speculations  of  theology,  man  and  man's 
nature  remained  with  him  an  inexhaustible  subject  of  interest.  Caliban 
was  among  his  latest  creations.  It  is  impossible  to  discover  whether 
h.s  faith,  if  faith  there  were,  was  Catholic  or  Protestant.  It  is  hard, 
indeed,  to  say  whether  he  had  any  religious  belief  or  no.  The  religious 
phrases  which  are  thinly  scattered  over  his  works  are  little  more  than 
expressions  of  a  distant  and  imaginative  reverence.  But  on  the  deeper 
grounds  of  religious  faith  his  silence  is  significant.  He  is  silent,  and 
the  doubt  of  Hamlet  deepens  his  silence,  about  the  after-world.  "To 
die,"  it  may  be,  was  to  him  as  to  Claudio,  "to  i;o  we  know  not 
whither."  Often  as  his  "questionings"  turn  to  the  riddle  of  life  and 
death,  he  leaves  it  a  riddle  to  the  last,  without  heeding  the  common 
theological  solutions  around  him.  "  We  are  such  stufTas  dreams  are 
made  of,  and  our  little  life  is  rounded  with  a  sleep." 

The  contrast  between  the  spirit  of  the  Elizabethan  drama  and  the 
new  temper  of  the  nation  became  yet  stronger  when   the  death  o( 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


437 


Shakspere  left  the  sovereignty  of  the  Enghsh  stage  to  Ben  Jonson. 
Jonson  retained  it  almost  to  the  moment  when  the  drama  itself 
perished  in  the  storm  of  the  Civil  War,  Webster  and  Ford,  indeed, 
surpassed  him  in  tragic  grandeur,  Massinger  in  facility  and  grace, 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher  in  poetry  and  inventiveness  ;  but  in  the  breadth 
of  his  dramatic  quality,  his  range  over  every  kind  of  poetic  excellence, 
Jonson  was  excelled  by  Shakspere  alone.  His  life  retained  to  the 
last  the  riotous,  defiant  colour  of  the  earlier  dramatic  world,  in  which 
he  had  made  his  way  to  fame.  The  stepson  of  a  bricklayer,  he  en- 
listed as  a  volunteer  in  the  wars  of  the  Low  Countries,  killed  his  man 
in  single  combat  in  sight  of  both  armies,  and  returned  at  nineteen  to 
London  to  throw  himself  on  the  stage  for  bread  At  forty-five  he  was 
still  so  vigorous  that  he  made  his  way  to  Scotland  on  foot.  Even  in 
old  age  his  "  mountain  belly,"  his  scarred  face,  and  massive  frame 
became  famous  among  the  men  of  a  younger  time,  as  they  gathered 
at  the  "  Mermaid "  to  listen  to  his  wit,  his  poetry,  his  outbursts  of 
spleen  and  generosity,  of  delicate  fancy,  of  pedantry,  of  riotous  excess. 
His  entry  on  the  stage  was  marked  by  a  proud  resolve  to  reform  it. 
Already  a  fine  scholar  in  early  manhood,  and  disdainful  of  writers 
who,  like  Shakspere,  "  had  small  Latin  and  less  Greek,"  Jonson  aimed 
at  a  return  to  classic  severity,  to  a  severer  criticism  and  taste.  He 
blamed  the  extravagance  which  marked  the  poetry  around  him,  he 
studied  his  plots,  he  gave  symmetry  and  regularity  to  his  sentences 
and  conciseness  to  his  phrase.  But  creativeness  disappears  :  in  his 
social  comedies  we  are  amongst  qualities  and  types  rather  than  men, 
amongst  abstractions  and  not  characters.  His  comedy  is  no  genial 
reflection  of  life  as  it  is,  but  a  moral,  satirical  effort  to  reform  manners. 
It  is  only  his  wonderful  grace  and  real  poetic  feeling  that  lightens  all 
this  pedantry.  He  shares  the  vigour  and  buoyancy  of  life  which  dis- 
tinguished the  school  from  which  he  sprang.  His  stage  is  thronged 
with  figures.  In  spite  of  his  talk  about  correctness,  his  own  ex- 
travagance is  only  saved  from  becoming  ridiculous  by  his  amazing 
force.  If  he  could  not  create  characters,  his  wealth  of  striking  details 
gave  life  to  the  types  which  he  substituted  for  them.  His  poetry,  too, 
is  of  the  highest  order  ;  his  lyrics  of  the  purest,  lightest  fancy :  his 
masques  rich  with  gorgeous  pictures  ;  his  pastoral,  the  "  Sad  Shepherd," 
fragment  as  it  is,  breathes  a  delicate  tenderness.  But,  in  spite  of  the 
beauty  and  strength  which  lingered  on,  the  life  of  our  drama  was  fast 
ebbing  away.  The  interest  of  the  people  was  in  reality  being  drawn 
to  newer  and  graver  themes,  as  the  struggle  of  the  Great  Rebellion 
threw  its  shadow  before  it,  and  the  efforts  of  the  playwrights  to  arrest 
this  tendency  of  the  time  by  fresh  excitement  only  brought  about  the 
ruin  of  the  stage.  The  grossness  of  the  later  comedy  is  incredible. 
Almost  as  incredible  is  the  taste  of  the  later  tragedians  for  horrors  of 
incest  and  blood.     The  hatred  of  the  Puritans  to  the  stage  was  not  a 


438 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


mere  longing  to  avenge  the  insults  which  it  had  levelled  at  Puritan- 
ism ;  it  was  in  the  main  the  honest  hatred  of  God-fearing  men  against 
the  foulest  depravity  presented  in  a  poetic  and  attractive  form. 

If  the  imaginative  resources  of  the  new  England  were  seen  in  the 
creators  of  Hamlet  and  the  Faerie  Queen,  its  purely  intellectual 
capacity,  its  vast  command  over  the  stores  of  human  knowledge,  the 
amazing  sense  of  its  own  powers  with  which  it  dealt  with  them,  were 
seen  in  the  work  of  Francis  Bacon.  Bacon  was  born  at  the  opening 
of  Elizabeth's  reign,  three  years  before  the  birth  of  Shakspere.  He 
was  the  younger  son  of  a  Lord  Keeper,  as  well  as  the  nephew  of  Lord 
Burleigh,  and  even  in  boyhood  his  quickness  and  sagacity  won  the 
favour  of  the  Queen.  Elizabeth  "delighted  much  to  confer  with  him, 
and  to  prove  him  with  questions  :  unto  which  he  delivered  himself  with 
that  gravity  and  maturity  above  his  years  that  her  Majesty  would  often 
term  him  '  the  young  Lord  Keeper.'  "  Even  as  a  boy  at  college  he  had 
expressed  his  dislike  of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy,  as  **a  philosophy 
only  strong  for  disputations  and  contentions,  but  barren  of  the  pro- 
duction of  works  for  the  benefit  of  the  life  of  man."  As  a  law-student 
of  twenty-one  he  sketched  in  a  tract  on  the  "  Greatest  Birth  of  Time  " 
the  system  of  inductive  enquiry  he  was  already  prepared  to  substitute 
for  it.  The  speculations  of  the  young  thinker  were  interrupted  by 
hopes  of  Court  success  ;  but  these  were  soon  dashed  to  the  ground. 
He  was  left  poor  by  his  father's  death  ;  the  ill-will  of  the  Cecils  barred 
his  advancement  with  the  Queen  :  and  a  few  years  before  Shakspere's 
arrival  in  London  he  entered  as  a  barrister  at  Gray's  Inn.  He  soon 
became  one  of  the  most  successful  lawyers  of  the  time.  At  twenty- 
three  he  was  a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  his  judgement 
and  eloquence  at  once  brought  him  to  the  front.  "  The  fear  of  every 
man  that  heard  him  was  lest  he  should  make  an  end,"  Ben  Jonson  tells 
us.  The  steady  growth  of  his  reputation  was  quickened  by  the  appear- 
ance of  his  "  Essays,"  a  work  remarkable  not  merely  for  the  condensation 
of  its  thought  and  its  felicity  and  exactness  of  expression,  but  for  the 
power  with  which  it  applied  to  human  life  that  experimental  analysis 
which  Bacon  was  at  a  later  time  to  make  the  key  of  Science.  His  fame 
at  once  became  great  at  home  and  abroad,  but  with  this  nobler  fame 
Bacon  could  not  content  himself  He  was  conscious  of  great  powers, 
as  well  as  great  aims  for  the  public  good  ;  and  it  was  a  time  when  such 
aims  could  hardly  be  realized  save  through  the  means  of  the  Crown. 
But  political  employment  seemed  further  off  than  ever.  At  the  outset 
of  his  career  in  Parliament  he  had  irritated  Elizabeth  by  a  firm  oppo- 
sition to  her  demand  of  a  subsidy  ;  and  though  the  oflfcnce  was  atoned 
for  by  profuse  apologies,  and  by  the  cessation  of  all  further  resistance 
to  the  policy  of  the  court,  the  law  offices  of  the  Crown  were  more  than 
once  refused  to  him,  and  it  was  only  after  the  publication  of  his 
"  Essays  "  that  he  could  obtain  some  slight  promotion  as  a  Queen's 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


43^ 


Counsel.  The  moral  weakness  which  more  and  more  disclosed 
itself  is  the  best  justification  of  the  Queen  in  her  reluctance— a 
reluctance  so  strangely  in  contrast  with  her  ordinary  course—  to  bring 
the  wisest  head  in  her  realm  to  her  Council-board.  The  men  whom 
Elizabeth  employed  were  for  the  most  part  men  whose  intellect  was 
directed  by  a  strong  sense  of  public  duty.  Their  reverence  for  the 
Queen,  strangely  exaggerated  as  it  may  seem  to  us,  was  guided  and 
controlled  by  an  ardent  patriotism  and  an  earnest  sense  of  religion  ; 
and  with  all  their  regard  for  the  royal  prerogative,  they  never  lost  their 
regard  for  the  law.  The  grandeur  and  originality  of  Bacon's  intellect 
parted  him  from  men  like  these  quite  as  much  as  the  bluntness  of  his 
moral  perceptions.  In  politics,  as  in  science,  he  had  httle  reverence 
for  the  past.  Law,  constitutional  privileges,  or  religion,  were  to  him 
simply  means  of  bringing  about  certain  ends  of  good  government; 
and  if  these  ends  could  be  brought  about  in  shorter  fashion  he  saw 
only  pedantry  in  insisting  on  more  cumbrous  means.  He  had  great 
social  and  political  ideas  to  realize,  the  reform  and  codification  of 
the  law,  the  civilization  of  Ireland,  the  purification  of  the  Church,  the 
union — at  a  later  time — of  Scotland  and  England,  educational  projects, 
projects  of  material  improvement,  and  the  like  ;  and  the  direct  and 
shortest  way  of  realizing  these  ends  was  in  Bacon's  eyes  the  use  of  the 
power  of  the  Crown.  But  whatever  charm  such  a  conception  of  the 
royal  power  might  have  for  her  successor,  it  had  little  charm  for 
Elizabeth  ;  and  to  the  end  of  her  reign  Bacon  was  foiled  in  his  efforts 
to  rise  in  her  service. 

"  For  my  name  and  memory,"  he  said  at  the  close  of  his  life, "  I  leave 
it  to  men's  charitable  speeches,  and  to  foreign  nations,  and  the  next 
age."  Amid  political  activity  and  court  intrigue  he  still  found  room  for 
the  philosophical  speculation  which  had  begun  with  his  earliest  y^ars. 
At  forty-four,  after  the  final  disappointment  of  his  political  hopes  from 
Elizabeth,  the  pubhcation  of  the  "  Advancement  of  Learning"  marked 
the  first  decisive  appearance  of  the  new  philosophy  which  he  had  been 
silently  framing.  The  close  of  this  work  was,  in  his  own  words,  "  a 
general  and  faithful  perambulation  of  learning,  with  an  enquiry  what 
parts  thereof  lie  fresh  and  waste,  and  not  improved  and  converted  by 
the  industry  of  man  ;  to  the  end  that  such  a  plot,  made  and  recorded 
to  memory,  may  both  minister  light  to  any  public  designation  and  also 
serve  to  excite  voluntary  endeavours."  It  was  only  by  such  a  survey, 
he  held,  that  men  could  be  turned  from  useless  studies,  or  ineffectual 
means  of  pursuing  more  useful  ones,  and  directed  to  the  true  end  of 
knowledge  as  "  a  rich  storehous2  for  the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  the 
relief  of  man's  estate."  The  work  was  in  fact  the  preface  to  a  series  of 
treatises  which  were  intended  to  be  built  up  into  an  "  Instauratio 
Magna,"  which  its  author  was  never  destined  to  complete,  and  of  which 
the  parts  that  we  possess  were  pubhshed  in  the  following  reign.     The 


440 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


"  Cogitata  et  Visa  "  was  a  first  sketch  of  the  '*  Novum  Organum,"  which 
in  its  complete  form  was  presented  to  James  in  1621.  A  year  later 
Bacon  produced  his"  Natural  and  Experimental  History."  This,  with 
the  '*  Novum  Organum  "  and  the  "  Advancement  of  Learning,"  was  all 
of  his  projected  "  Instauratio  Magna  "  which  he  actually  finished  ;  and 
even  of  this  portion  we  have  only  part  of  the  last  two  divisions.  The 
"  Ladder  of  the  Understanding/'  which  was  to  have  followed  these  and 
lead  up  from  experience  to  science,  the  "  Anticipations,"  or  provisional 
hypotheses  for  the  enquiries  of  the  new  philosophy,  and  the  closing 
account  of  '■  Science  in  Practice,"  were  left  for  posterity  to  bring  to 
completion.  "  We  may,  as  we  trust,"  said  Bacon,  "  make  no  des- 
picable beginnings.  The  destinies  of  the  human  race  must  complete 
it,  in  such  a  manner  perha;js  as  men  looking  only  at  the  present 
world  would  not  readily  conceive.  For  upon  this  will  depend,  not 
only  a  speculative  good,  but  all  the  fortunes  if  mankind,  and  all 
their  power."  When  we  turn  from  words  like  these  to  the  actual  work 
which  Bacon  did,  it  is  hard  not  to  feel  a  certain  disappointment. 
He  did  not  thoroughly  understand  the  older  philosophy  which  he 
attacked.  His  revolt  from  the  waste  of  human  intelligence,  which 
he  conceived  to  be  owing  to  the  adoption  of  a  false  method  of  investi- 
gation, blinded  him  to  the  real  value  of  deduction  as  an  instrument  of 
discovery  ;  and  he  was  encouraged  in  his  contempt  for  it  as  much  by 
his  own  ignorance  of  mathematics  as  by  the  non-existence  in  his  day 
of  the  great  deductive  sciences  of  physics  and  astronomy.  Nor  had 
he  a  more  accurate  prevision  of  the  method  of  modern  science.  The 
inductive  process  to  which  he  exclusively  directed  men's  attention  bore 
no  fruit  in  Bacon's  hands.  The  "  art  of  investigating  nature  "  on  which 
he  prided  himself  has  proved  useless  for  scientific  purposes,  and  would 
be  rejected  by  modern  investigators.  Where  he  was  on  a  more  correct 
track  he  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  original  "  1 1  may  be  doubted,"  says 
Dugald  Stewart,  "whether  any  one  important  rule  with  regard  to  the 
true  method  of  investigation  be  contained  in  his  works  of  which  no 
hint  can  be  traced  in  those  of  his  predecessors."  Not  only  indeed  did 
Bacon  fail  to  anticipate  the  methods  of  modern  science,  but  he  even  re- 
jected the  great  scientific  discoveries  of  his  own  day.  He  set  aside  with 
the  same  scorn  the  astronomical  theory  of  Copernicus  and  the  magnetic 
investigations  of  Gilbert.  The  contempt  seems  to  have  been  fully  re- 
turned by  the  scientific  workers  of  his  day.  *'  The  Lord  Chancellor  wrote 
on  science,"  said  Harvey,  the  discoverer  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
"  like  a  Lord  Chancellor." 

In  spite  however  of  his  inadequate  appreciation  either  of  the  old 
philosophy  or  the  new,  the  almost  unanimous  voice  of  later  ages  has 
attributed,  and  justly  attributed,  to  the  "  Novum  Organum  "  a  decisive 
influence  on  the  dcvelopcment  of  modern  science.  If  he  failed  in 
revealing  the  method  of  experimental  research,  Bacon  was  the  first  to 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


441 


proclaim  the  existence  of  a  Philosophy  of  Science,  to  insist  on  the 
unity  of  knowledge  and  enquiry  throughout  the  physical  world,  to  give 
dignity  by  the  large  and  noble  temper  in  which  he  treated  them  to  the 
petty  details  of  experiment  in  which  science  had  to  begin,  to  clear  a 
way  for  it  by  setting  scornfully  aside  the  traditions  of  the  past,  to  claim 
for  it  its  true  rank  and  value,  and  to  point  to  the  enormous  results 
which  its  culture  would  bring  in  increasing  the  power  and  happiness 
of  mankind.  In  one  respect  his  attitude  was  in  the  highest  degree 
significant.  The  age  in  which  he  lived  was  one  in  which  theology 
was  absorbing  the  intellectual  energy  of  the  world.  He  was  the 
servant,  too,  of  a  king  with  whom  theological  studies  superseded  all 
others.  But  if  he  bowed  in  all  else  to  James,  Bacon  would  not,  like 
Casaubon,  bow  in  this.  He  would  not  even,  like  Descartes,  attempt 
to  transform  theology  by  turning  reason  into  a  mode  of  theological 
demonstration.  He  stood  absolutely  aloof  from  it.  Though  as  a  poli- 
tician he  did  not  shrink  from  dealing  with  such  subjects  as  Church 
Reform,  he  dealt  with  them  simply  as  matters  of  civil  polity.  But  from 
his  exhaustive  enumeration  of  the  branches  of  human  knowledge  he 
excluded  theology,  and  theology  alone.  His  method  was  of  itself 
inapplicable  to  a  subject,  where  the  premisses  were  assumed  to  be 
certain,  and  the  results  known.  His  aim  was  to  seek  for  unknown 
results  by  simple  experiment.  It  was  against  received  authority  and 
accepted  tradition  in  matters  of  enquiry  that  his  whole  system  pro- 
tested ;  what  he  urged  was  the  need  of  making  belief  rest  strictly  on 
proof,  and  proof  rest  on  the  conclusions  drawn  from  evidence  by 
reason.  But  in  theology — all  theologians  asserted — reason  played  but 
a  subordinate  part.  "  If  I  proceed  to  treat  of  it,"  said  Bacon,  "  I  shall 
step  out  of  the  bark  of  human  reason,  and  enter  into  the  ship  of  the 
Church.  Neither  will  the  stars  of  philosophy,  which  have  hitherto  so 
nobly  shone  on  us,  any  longer  give  us  their  light."  The  certainty 
indeed  of  conclusions  on  such  subjects  was  out  of  harmony  with  the 
grandest  feature  of  Bacon's  work,  his  noble  confession  of  the  liability 
of  every  enquirer  to  error.  It  was  his  especial  task  to  warn  men  against 
the  "vain  shows"  of  knowledge  which  had  so  long  hindered  any  real 
advance  in  it,  the  "idols"  of  the  Tribe,  the  Den,  the  Forum,  and  the 
Theatre,  the  errors  which  spring  from  the  systematizing  spirit  which 
pervades  all  masses  of  men,  or  from  individual  idiosyncrasies,  or  from 
the  strange  power  of  words  and  phrases  over  the  mind,  or  from  the 
traditions  of  the  past.  Nor  were  the  claims  of  theology  easily  to  be 
reconciled  with  the  position  which  he  was  resolute  to  assign  to  natural 
science.  "Through  all  those  ages,"  Bacon  says,  "wherein  men  of 
genius  or  learning  principally  or  even  moderately  flourished,  the 
smallest  part  of  human  industry  has  been  spent  on  natural  philosophy, 
though  this  ought  to  be  esteemed  as  the  great  mother  of  the  sciences  : 
for  all  the  rest,  if  torn  from  this  root,  may  perhaps  be  polished  and 


Sec.  VII. 
Tiiv  Eliza 

HKTHAN 

Poets 


446 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA^ 


Sec.  VII. 

The  Eliza- 
bethan 
Poets 


The  War 
with 
Spain 


formed  for  use,  but  can  receive  little  increase."  It  was  by  the  adoption 
of  the  method  of  inductive  enquiry  which  physical  science  was  to  make 
its  own,  and  by  basing  enquiry  on  grounds  which  physical  science 
could  supply,  that  the  moral  sciences,  ethics  and  politics  could  alone 
make  any  real  advance.  "  Let  none  expect  any  great  promotion  of  the 
sciences,  especially  in  their  effective  part,  unless  natural  philosophy 
be  drawn  out  to  particular  sciences  ;  and,  again,  unless  these  particular 
sciences  be  brought  back  again  to  natural  philosophy.  From  this 
defect  it  is  that  astronomy,  optics,  music,  many  mechanical  arts,  and 
(what  seems  stranger)  even  moral  and  civil  philosophy  and  logic  rise 
but  little  above  the  foundations,  and  only  skim  over  the  varieties  and 
surfaces  of  things."  It  was  this  lofty  ccmception  of  the  position  and 
destiny  of  natural  science  which  Bacon  was  the  first  to  impress  upon 
mankind  at  large.  The  age  was  one  in  which  knowledge  was  passing 
to  fields  of  enquiry  which  had  till  then  been  unknown,  in  which  Kepler 
and  Galileo  were  creating  modern  astronomy,  in  which  Descartes  was 
revealing  the  laws  of  motion,  and  Harvey  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 
But  to  the  mass  of  men  this  great  change  was  all  but  imperceptible ; 
and  it  was  the  energy,  the  profound  conviction,  the  eloquence  of  Bacon 
which  first  called  the  attention  of  mankind  as  a  whole  to  the  power 
and  importance  of  physical  research.  It  was  he  who  by  his  lofty  faith 
in  the  results  and  victories  of  the  new  philosophy  nerved  its  followers 
to  a  zeal  and  confidence  equal  to  his  own.  It  was  he  who  above  all 
gave  dignity  to  the  slow  and  patient  processes  of  investigation,  of 
experiment,  of  comparison,  to  the  sacrificing  of  hypothesis  to  fact,  tc 
the  single  aim  after  truth,  which  was  to  be  the  law  of  modem  science. 


Section  VIII.— The  Conquest  of  Ireland,  1588— 1610. 

[Authorilies. — The  materials  for  the  early  history  of  Ireland  are  described  by 
Professor  O'Curry  in  his  "  Lectures  on  the  Materials  of  Ancient  Irish  History.  * 
They  may  be  studied  by  the  general  reader  in  the  cpmpilation  known  as  *'  The 
Annals  of  the  Four  Masters,"  edited  by  Dr.  O'Donovan.  Its  ecclesiastical  history 
is  dryly  but  accurately  told  by  Dr.  Lanigan  ("Ecclesiastical  History  of  Ireland  "). 
The  chief  authorities  for  the  earlier  concjuest  under  Henry  the  Second  are  the 
"  Expugnatio  et  Topographia  Hibernica  "  of  Gerald  de  Barri,  edited  for  the 
Rolls  series  by  Mr.  Dimock,  and  the  Anglo-Norman  Poem  edited  by 
M.  Francisque  Michel  (London,  Pickering,  1857).  Mr.  Kroude  has  devoted 
especial  attention  to  the  relations  of  Ireland  with  the  Tudors  ;  but  both  in 
accuracy  and  soundness  of  judgement  his  work  is  far  inferior  to  Mr.  Brewer's 
exa  nination  of  them  in  his  prefaces  to  the  State  Papers  of  Henry  VIII.,  or 
to  Mr.  Gardiner's  careful  and  tem|>erate  account  of  the  final  conquest  and 
settlement  under  Mounljoy  and  Chichester  (•'  History  of  England  ").  The  two 
series  of  "Lectures  on  the  History  of  Ireland"  by  Mr.  A.  G.  Richey  are 
remarkable  for  their  information  and  fairness.] 

While  England  became  "  a  nest  of  singing  birds  "  at  home,  the  last 
years  of  Elizabeth's  reign  were  years  of  splendour  and  triumph  abroad. 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


443 


The  defeat  of  the  Armada  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  defeats  which 
broke  the  power  of  Spain,  and  changed  the  poHtical  aspect  of  the  world. 
The  next  year  fifty  vessels  and  fifteen  thousand  men  were  sent  under 
Drake  and  N orris  against  Lisbon.  The  expedition  returned  baffled 
to  England,  but  it  had  besieged  Corunna,  pillaged  the  coast,  and 
repulsed  a  Spanish  army  on  Spanish  ground.  The  exhaustion  of  the 
treasury  indeed  soon  forced  Elizabeth  to  content  herself  with  issuing 
commissions  to  volunteers  ;  but  the  war  was  a  national  one,  and  the 
nation  waged  it  for  itself.  Merchants,  gentlemen,  nobles,  fitted  out 
privateers.  The  sea-dogs  in  ever  growing  numbers  scoured  the  Span- 
ish Main  ;  Spanish  galleons,  Spanish  merchant-ships,  were  brought 
month  after  month  to  English  harbours.  Philip  meanwhile  was  held 
back  from  attack  on  England  by  the  need  of  action  in  France.  The 
Armada  had  hardly  been  dispersed  when  the  assassination  of  Henry 
the  Third,  the  last  of  the  line  of  Valois,  raised  Henry  of  Navarre  to 
the  throne ;  and  the  accession  of  a  Protestant  sovereign  at  once  ranged 
the  Cathohcs  of  France  to  a  man  on  the  side  of  the  League  and  its 
leaders,  the  Guises.  The  League  rejected  Henry's  claims  as  those  of  a 
heretic,  proclaimed  the  Cardinal  of  Bourbon  King  as  Charles  the  Tenth, 
and  recognized  Philip  as  Protector  of  France.  It  received  the  support 
of  Spanish  soldiery  and  Spanish  treasure  :  and  this  new  effort  of  Spain, 
an  effort  whose  triumph  must  have  ended  in  her  ruin,  forced  Elizabeth 
to  aid  Henry  with  men  and  money  in  his  five  years'  struggle  against 
the  overwhelming  odds  which  seemed  arrayed  against  him.  Torn  by 
civil  strife,  it  seemed  as  though  France  might  be  turned  into  a  Spanish 
dependency  ;  and  it  was  from  its  coast  that  Philip  hoped  to  reach 
England.  But  the  day  at  last  went  against  the  Leaguers.  On  the 
death  of  their  puppet  king,  their  scheme  of  conferring  the  crown  on 
Philip's  daughter  awoke  jealousies  in  the  house  of  Guise  itself,  while 
it  gave  strength  to  the  national  party  who  shrank  from  laying  France 
at  the  feet  of  Spain.  Henry's  submission  to  the  faith  held  by  the  bulk 
of  his  subjects  at  last  destroyed  all  chance  of  Philip's  success.  "  Paris 
is  well  worth  a  mass"  was  the  famous  phrase  in  which  Henry  explained 
his  abandonment  of  the  Protestant  cause,  but  the  step  did  more  than 
secure  Paris.  It  dashed  to  the  ground  all  hopes  of  further  resistance, 
it  dissolved  the  League,  and  enabled  the  King  at  the  head  of  a  reunited 
people  to  force  PhiHp  to  acknowledge  his  title  and  consent  to  peace  in 
the  Treaty  of  Vervins.  The  overthrow  of  Philip's  hopes  in  France  had 
been  made  more  bitter  by  the  final  overthrow  of  his  hopes  at  sea.  In 
1596  his  threat  of  a  fresh  Armada  was  met  by  the  daring  descent 
of  an  English  force  upon  Cadiz.  The  town  was  plundered  and  burned 
to  the  ground  ;  thirteen  vessels  of  war  were  fired  in  its  harbour,  and 
the  stores  accumulated  for  the  expedition  utterly  destroyed.  In  spite 
of  this  crushing  blow  a  Spanish  fleet  gathered  in  the  following  year 
and  set  sa'l  for  the  English  coast ;  but  as  in  the  case  of  its  predecessor 


444 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


storms  proved  more  fatal  than  the  English  guns,  and  the  ships  were 
wrecked  and  almost  destroyed  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 

With  the  ruin  of  Philip's  projects  in  France  and  the  assertion  of 
English  supremacy  at  sea,  all  danger  from  Spain  passed  quietly  away, 
and  Elizabeth  was  able  to  direct  her  undivided  energies  to  the  last 
work  which  illustrates  her  reign. 

To  understand  however  the  final  conquest  of  Ireland,  we  must  retrace 
our  steps  to  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Second.  The  civilization  of  the 
island  had  at  that  time  fallen  far  below  the  height  which  it  had  reached 
when  its  missionaries  brought  religion  and  learning  to  the  shores  of 
Northumbria.  Learning  had  almost  disappeared.  The  Christianity 
which  had  been  a  vital  force  in  the  eighth  century  had  died  into 
asceticism  and  superstition  by  the  twelfth,  and  had  ceased  to  influence 
the  morality  of  the  people  at  large.  The  Church,  destitute  of  rny 
effective  organization,  was  powerless  to  do  the  work  which  it  had  done 
elsewhere  in  Western  Europe,  or  to  introduce  order  into  the  anarchy  of 
warring  tribes.  On  the  contrary,  it  shared  the  anarchy  around  it 
Its  head,  the  Coarb  or  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  sank  into  the  here- 
ditary chieftain  of  a  clan  ;  its  bishops  were  without  dioceses,  and  often 
mere  dependan  s  of  the  greater  monasteries.  Hardly  a  trace  of 
any  central  authority  remained  to  knit  the  tribes  into  a  single  nation, 
though  the  King  of  Ulster  claimed  supremacy  over  his  fellow-kings  of 
Munster,  Leinster,  and  Connaught  ;  and  even  within  these  minor 
kingsl.ips  the  regal  authority  was  little  more  than  a  name.  The  one 
living  thing  in  the  social  and  political  chaos  was  the  sept,  or  tribe,  or 
clan,  whose  institutions  remained  those  of  the  earliest  stage  of  human 
civilization.  Its  chieftainship  was  hereditary,  but,  instead  of  passing 
from  father  to  son,  it  was  held  by  whoever  was  the  eldest  member  of 
the  ruling  family  at  the  time.  The  land  belonging  to  the  tribe  was 
shared  among  its  members,  but  re-divided  among  them  at  certain  in- 
tervals of  years.  The  practice  of  "  fosterage,"  or  adoption,  bound  the 
adopted  child  more  closely  to  its  foster-parents  than  to  its  family 
by  blood.  Every  element  of  improvement  or  progress  which  had 
been  introduced  into  the  island  disappeared  in  the  long  and  despe- 
rate struggle  with  the  Danes.  The  coast  towns,  such  as  Dublin  or 
Waterford,  which  the  invaders  founded,  remained  Danibh  in  blood 
and  manners,  and  at  feud  with  the  Celtic  tribes  around  them,  though 
sometimes  forced  by  the  fortunes  of  war  to  pay  tribute,  and  to  accept, 
in  name  at  least,  the  overlordship  of  the  Irish  Kings.  It  was  through 
these  towns  however  that  the  intercourse  with  England,  which  had 
ceased  since  the  eighth  century,  was  to  some  extent  renewed  in  the 
elevent'i.  Cut  off  from  the  Church  of  the  island  by  national  anti- 
pathy, the  Danish  coast-cities  applied  to  the  See  of  Canterbury  for 
the  ordination  of  their  bishops,  and  acknowledged  a  right  of  spiritual 
supervision  in  Lanfranc  and  Anselni.     The  relations  thus  f.vmed  were 


VII.] 


THE'  REFORMATION. 


445 


drawn  closer  by  the  slave-trade,  which  the  Conqueror  and   Bishop 
Wulfstan  succeeded  for  a  time  in  suppressing  at  Bristol,  but  which 
appears  to  have  quickly  revived.     In  the  twelfth  century  Ireland  was 
full  of  Englishmen,  who  had  been  kidnapped  and  sold  into  slavery,  in 
spite  of  royal  prohibitions  and  the  spiritual  menaces  of  the  English 
Church.     The  state  of  the  country  afforded  a  legitimate  pretext  for 
war,  had  a  pretext  been  needed  by  the  ambition  of  Henry  the  Second  ; 
and  within  a  few  months  of  that  King's  coronation  John  of  Salisbury 
was  despatched  to  obtain  the  Papal  sanction  for  an  invasion  of  the 
island.   The  enterprise,  as  it  was  laid  before  Pope  Hadrian  the  Fourth, 
took  the  colour  of  a  crusade.    The  isolation  of  Ireland  from  the  general 
body  of  Christendom,  the  absence  of  learning  and  civilization,  the  scan- 
dalous vices  of  its  people,  were  alleged  as  the  grounds  of  Henry's 
action.     It  was  the  general  belief  of  the  time  that  all  islands  fell  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  Papal  See,  and  it  was  as  a  possession  of  the 
Roman  Church  that  Henry   sought    Hadrian's   permission  to  enter 
Ireland.     His  aim  was  "to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  the  Church,  to  re- 
strain the  progress  of  vices,  to  correct  the  manners  of  its  people  and 
to  plant  virtue  among  them,  and  to  increase  the  Christian  religion." 
He   engaged   to   "  subject   the   people  to   laws,   to  extirpate  vicious 
customs,  to  respect  the  rights  of  the  native  Churches,  and  to  enforce 
the  payment  of  Peter's  pence  "  as  a  recognition  of  the  overlordship  of 
the  Roman  See.     Hadrian  by  his  bull  approved  the  enterprise  as  one 
prompted  by  "  the  ardour  of  faith  and  love  of  religion,"  and  declared 
his  will  that  the  people  of   Ireland   should   receive  Henry  with   all 
honour,  and  revere  him  as  their  lord.     The  Papal  bull  was  produced 
in  a  great  council  of  the  English  baronage,  but  the  opposition  of  the 
Empress  Matilda  and  the  difficulties   of   the    enterprise   forced  on 
Henry  a   temporary  abandonment  of  his  designs,  and  his  energies 
were  diverted  for  the  moment  to  plans  of  continental  aggrandizement. 
Twelve  years  had  passed  when  an  Irish  chieftain.  Dermod,  King  of 
Leinster,  presented  himself  at  Henry's  Court,  and  did  homage  to  him 
for  the  dominions  from  which  he  had  been  driven  in  one  of  the  endless 
civil  wars  which  distracted  the  island.    Dermod  returned  to  Ireland  with 
promises  of  aid  from  the  English  knighthood  ;  and  was  soon  followed 
by  Robert  FitzStephen,  a  son  of  the  Constable  of  Cardigan,  with  a 
small  band  of  a  hundred  and  forty  knights,  sixty  men-at-arms,  and 
three  or  four  hundred  'Welsh  archers.     Small  as  was  the  number  of 
the  adventurers,  their  horses  and  arms  proved  irresistible  to  the  Irish 
kernes  ;  a  sally  of  the  men  of  Wexford  was  avenged  by  the  storm  of 
their  town  ;  the  Ossory  clans  were  defeated  with  a  terrible  slaughter, 
and^  Dermod,  seizing  a  head  from  the  heap  of  trophies  which  his 
men  piled  at  his  feet,  tore  off  in  savage  triumph  its  nose  and  lips  with 
his   teeth.       The   arrival  of  fresh  forces   under    Maurice   Fitzgerald 
heralded  the  coming  of  Richard  of  Clare,  Ear)  of  Pembroke  and 


446 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VIII. 

The 
Conquest 

OK 

Ireland 
1588 

TO 

1610 


II71 


II76 


118' 


The 
Barons 
of  the 

Pale 


Striguil,  a  ruined  baron  later  known  by  the  nickname  of  Strongbow, 
who  in  defiance  of  Henry's  prohibition  landed  near  Waterford 
with  a  force  of  fifteen  hundred  men,  as  Dermod's  mercenary.  The 
city  was  at  once  stormed,  and  the  united  forces  of  the  Eail 
and  King  marched  to  the  siege  of  Dublin.  In  spite  of  a  relief 
attempted  by  the  King  of  Connaught,  who  was  recognized  as  overking 
of  the  island  by  the  rest  of  the  tribes,  Dublin  was  taken  by  surprise  : 
and  the  marriage  of  Richard  with  Eva,  Dermod's  daughter,  left 
him  on  the  death  of  his  father-in-law,  which  followed  quickly  on 
these  successes,  master  of  his  kingdom  of  Leinster.  The  new  lord  had 
soon,  however,  to  hurry  back  to  England,  and  appease  the  jealousy  of 
Henry  by  the  surrender  of  Dublin  to  the  Crown,  by  doing  homage  for 
Leinster  as  an  English  lordship,  and  by  accompanying  the  King  in  his 
voyage  to  the  new  dominion  which  the  adventurers  had  won.  Had 
Henry  been  allowed  by  fortune  to  carry  out  his  purpose,  the  conquest 
of  Ireland  would  now  have  been  accomplished.  The  King  of  Connaught 
indeed  and  the  chiefs  of  northern  Ulster  refused  him  homage,  but  the 
rest  of  the  Irish  tribes  owned  his  suzerainty  ;  the  bishops  in  synod  at 
Cashel  recognized  him  as  their  lord  ;  and  he  was  preparing  to  penetrate 
to  the  north  and  west,  and  to  secure  his  conquest  by  a  systematic 
erection  of  castles  throughout  the  country,  when  the  troubles  which 
followed  on  the  murder  of  Archbishop  Thomas  recalled  him  hurriedly 
to  Normandy.  The  lost  opportunity  never  returned.  Connaught,  in- 
deed, bowed  to  a  nominal  acknowledgment  of  Henry's  overlordship ; 
John  De  Courcy  penetrated  into  Ulster  and  established  himself  at 
Downpatrick ;  and  the  King  planned  for  a  while  the  establishment  of 
his  youngest  son,  John,  as  Lord  of  Ireland.  But  the  levity  of  the 
young  prince,  who  mocked  the  rude  dresses  of  the  native  chieftains, 
and  plucked  them  in  insult  by  the  beard,  compelled  his  recall ;  and 
nothing  but  the  feuds  and  weakness  of  the  Irish  tribes  enabled  the 
adventurers  to  hold  thedistrictsofDrogheda,  Dublin,  Wexford,  Water- 
ford,  and  Cork,  which  formed  what  was  thenceforth  known  as  the 
"  English  Pale." 

Had  the  Irish  driven  their  invaders  into  the  sea,  or  the  English 
succeeded  in  the  complete  conquest  of  Ireland,  the  misery  of  its  after 
history  might  have  been  avoided.  A  struggle  such  as  that  in  which 
Scotland  drove  out  its  conquerors  might  have  produced  a  spirit  of 
patriotism  and  national  union,  which  would  have  fonned  a  people  out 
of  the  mass  of  warring  clans.  A  conquest  such  as  that  of  England 
by  the  Normans  would  have  spread  at  any  rate  the  law,  the  order,  the 
peace  and  civilization  of  the  conquering  country  over  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  conquered.  Unhappily  Ireland,  while  powerless  to 
effect  its  deliverance,  was  strong  enough  to  hold  its  assailants  parti- 
ally at  bay.  The  country  was  broken  into  two  halves,  whose  conflict 
has  never  ceased.     The  barbarism  of  the  native  tribes  was  only  intcn- 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


447 


sified  by  their  hatred  of  the  more  civilized  intruders.  The  intruders 
themselves,  penned  up  in  the  narrow  limits  of  the  Pale,  fell  rapidly  to 
the  level  of  the  barbarism  about  them.  All  the  lawlessness,  the  ferocity, 
the  narrowness,  of  feudalism  broke  out  unchecked  in  the  horde  of 
adventurers  who  held  the  land  by  their  sword.  It  needed  the  stern 
vengeance  of  John,  whose  army  stormed  their  strongholds,  and  drove 
the  leading  barons  into  exile,  to  preserve  even  their  fealty  to  the 
English  Crown.  John  divided  the  Pale  into  counties,  and  ordered 
the  observance  of  the  English  law  ;  but  the  departure  of  his  army  was 
the  signal  for  a  return  of  the  anarchy  which  he  had  trampled  under 
foot.  Every  Irishman  without  the  Pale  was  deemed  an  enemy  and  a 
robber,  nor  was  his  murder  cognizable  by  the  law.  Half  the  subsist- 
ence of  the  barons  was  drawn  from  forays  across  the  border,  and  these 
forays  were  avenged  by  incursions  of  native  marauders,  which  carried 
havoc  to  the  walls  of  DubHn.  The  English  settlers  in  the  Pale  itself 
were  harried  and  oppressed  by  enemy  and  protector  alike  ;  while  the 
feuds  of  the  English  lords  wasted  their  strength,  and  prevented  any 
effective  combination  for  conquest  or  defence.  The  landing  of  a  Scotch 
force  after  Bannockburn  with  Edward  Bruce  at  its  head,  and  a  general 
rising  of  the  Irish  which  welcomed  this  deliverer,  drove  indeed  the 
barons  of  the  Pale  to  a  momentary  union  ;  and  in  the  bloody  field  of 
Athenree  their  valour  was  proved  by  the  slaughter  of  eleven  thousand 
of  their  foes,  and  the  almost  complete  extinction  of  the  sept  of  the 
O'Connors.  But  with  victory  returned  anarchy  and  degradation.  The 
barons  sank  more  and  more  into  Irish  chieftains  ;  the  Fitz Maurices, 
who  became  Earls  of  Desmond,  and  whose  great  territory  in  the  south 
was  erected  into  a  County  Palatine,  adopted  the  dress  and  manners  of 
the  natives  around  them  ;  and  the  provisions  of  the  Statute  of  Kilkenny 
were  fruitless  to  check  the  growth  of  this  evil.  The  Statute  forbade 
the  adoption  by  any  man  of  English  blood  of  the  Irish  language  or 
name  or  dress  ;  it  enforced  within  the  Pale  the  use  of  English  law,  and 
made  that  of  the  native  or  Brehon  law,  which  was  gaining  ground, 
an  act  of  treason  ;  it  made  treasonable  any  marriage  of  the  Englishry 
with  persons  of  Irish  blood,  or  any  adoption  of  English  children  by 
Irish  foster-fathers.  But  stern  as  they  were,  these  provisions  proved 
fruitless  to  check  the  fusion  of  the  two  races,  while  the  growing  inde- 
pendence of  the  Lords  of  the  Pale  threw  off  all  but  the  semblance  of 
obedience  to  the  English  government.  It  was  this  which  stirred 
Richard  the  Second  to  a  serious  effort  for  the  conquest  and  organiza- 
tion of  the  island.  He  landed  with  an  army  at  Waterford,  and  received 
the  general  submission  of  the  native  chieftains.  But  the  Lords  of  the 
Pale  held  sullenly  aloof ;  and  Richard  had  no  sooner  quitted  the  island 
than  the  Irish  in  turn  refused  to  carry  out  their  promise  of  quitting 
Leinstet.  In  1398  his  lieutenant  in  Ireland,  the  Earl  of  March,  was 
slam  in  battle,  and  Richard  resolved  to  complete  his  work  by  a  fresh 


448 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


invasion  ;  but  the  troubles  in  England  soon  interrupted  his  efforts,  ana 
all  traces  of  his  work  vanished  with  the  embarkation  of  his  soldiers. 

With  the  renewal  of  the  French  wars,  and  the  outburst  of  the  Wars 
of  the  Roses,  Ireland  was  again  left  to  itself,  and  English  sovereignty 
over  the  island  dwindled  to  a  shadow.  But  at  last  Henry  the  Seventh 
took  the  country  in  hand.  Sir  Edward  Poynings  was  despatched  as 
deputy  ;  the  Lords  of  the  Pale  were  scared  by  the  seizure  of  their  leader, 
the  Earl  of  Kildare  ;  the  Parliament  of  the  Pale  was  forbidden  by  the 
famous  I^ovmngs'  Act  to  treat  of  any  matters  save  those  first  approved 
of  by  th^i^nglish  King  and  his  Council.  For  a  whil^  however  the 
Lords  of  the  Pale  must  still  serve  as  the  English  garrison  against  the 
unconquered  Irish,  and  Henry  made  his  prisoner  the  Earl  of  Kildare 
Lord  Deputy.  "  All  Ireland  cannot  rule  this  man,"  grumbled  his 
ministers.  "  Then  shall  he  rule  all  Ireland,"  replied  the  King.  But 
though  Henry  the  Seventh  had  begun  the  work  of  bridling  Ireland  he 
had  no  strength  for  exacting  a  real  submission  ;  and  the  great  Norman 
Lords  of  the  Pale,  the  Butlers  and  Geraldines,  the  De  la  Poers  and  the 
Fitzpatricks,  though  subjects  in  name,  were  in  fact  defiant  of  royal 
authority.  In  manners  and  outer  seeming  they  had  sunk  into  mere 
natives ;  their  feuds  were  as  incessant  as  those  of  the  Irish  septs  ; 
and  their  despotism  over  the  miserable  inhabitants  of  the  Pale 
combined  the  horrors  of  feudal  oppression  with  those  of  Celtic 
anarchy.  Crushed  by  taxation,  by  oppression,  by  misgovernment, 
plundered  alike  by  Celtic  marauders  and  by  the  troops  levied  to 
disperse  them,  the  wretched  descendants  of  the  first  English  settlers 
preferred  even  Irish  misrule  to  English  "order," and  the  border  of  the 
Pale  retreated  steadily  towards  Dublin.  The  towns  of  the  seaboard, 
sheltered  by  their  walls  and  their  municipal  self-government,  formed 
the  only  exceptions  to  the  general  chaos ;  elsewhere  throughout  its 
dominions  the  English  Government,  though  still  strong  enough  to 
break  down  any  open  revolt,  was  a  mere  phantom  of  rule.  From  the 
Celtic  tribes  without  the  Pale  even  the  remnant  of  civilization  and  of 
native  union  which  had  lingered  on  to  the  time  of  Strongbow  had 
vanished  away.  The  feuds  of  the  Irish  septs  were  as  bitter  as  their 
hatred  of  the  stranger  ;  and  the  Government  at  Dublin  found  it  easy  to 
maintain  a  strife,  which  saved  it  the  necessity  of  self-defence,  among  a 
people  whose  *'  nature  is  such  that  for  money  one  shall  have  the  son 
to  war  against  his  father,  and  the  father  against  his  child."  Durinjf 
the  first  thirty  years  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  annals  of  the  country 
which  remained  under  native  rule  record  more  than  a  hundred  raidt 
and  battles  between  clans  of  the  north  alone.  But  the  time  was  at 
last  come  for  a  vigorous  attempt  on  the  part  of  England  to  introtluce 
order  into  this  chaos  of  turbulence  and  misrule.  To  Henry  the 
Eighth  the  i)olicy  which  had  been  pursued  by  his  father,  of  ruling 
Ireland  through  the  great  Irish  lords,  was  utterly  hateful.    His  purpose 


vii.l 


THE  REFORMATION. 


449 


was  to  rule  in  Ireland  as  thoroughly  and  effectively  as  he  ruled  in 
England,  and  during  the  latter  half  of  his  reign  he  bent  his  whole 
energies  to  accomplish  this  aim.  From  the  first  hours  of  his  accession, 
indeed,  the  Irish  lords  felt  the  heavier  hand  of  a  master.  The  Geral- 
dines,  who  had  been  suffered  under  the  preceding  reign  to  govern 
Ireland  in  the  name  of  the  Crown,  were  quick  to  discover  that  the 
Crown  would  no  longer  stoop  to  be  their  tool.  Their  head,  the  Earl  of 
Kildare,  was  called  to  England  and  thrown  into  the  Tower.  The  great 
house  resolved  to  frighten  England  again  into  a  conviction  of  its  help- 
lessness ;  and  a  rising  of  Lord  Thomas  Fitzgerald  followed  the  usual 
fashion  of  Irish  revolts.  A  murder  of  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin, 
a  capture  of  the  city,  a  repulse  before  its  castle,  a  harrying  of  the  Pale, 
ended  in  a  sudden  disappearance  of  the  rebels  among  the  bogs  and 
forests  of  the  border  on  the  advance  of  the  English  forces.  It  had  been 
usual  to  meet  such  an  onset  as  this  by  a  raid  of  the  same  character, 
by  a  corresponding  failure  before  the  castle  of  the  rebellious  noble, 
and  a  retreat  like  his  own,  which  served  as  a  preliminary  to  negotia- 
tions and  a  compromise.  Unluckily  for  the  Geraldines,  Henry  had 
resolved  to  take  Ireland  seriously  in  hand,  and  he  had  Cromwell  to 
execute  his  will.  Skeffington,  a  new  Lord  Deputy,  brought  with  him 
a  train  of  artillery,  which  worked  a  startling  change  in  the  political 
aspect  of  the  island.  The  castles  which  had  hitherto  sheltered  rebellion 
were  battered  into  ruins.  Maynooth,  a  stronghold  from  which  the 
Geraldines  threatened  Dublin  and  ruled  the  Pale  at  their  will,  was 
beaten  down  in  a  fortnight.  So  crushing  and  unforeseen  was  the  blow 
that  resistance  was  at  once  at  an  end.  Not  only  was  the  power  of  the 
great  Norman  house  which  had  towered  over  Ireland  utterly  broken, 
but  only  a  single  boy  was  left  to  preserve  its  name. 

With  the  fall  of  the  Fitzgeralds  Ireland  felt  itself  in  a  master's 
grasp.  "  Irishmen,"  wrote  one  of  the  Lord  Justices  to  Cromwell, "  were 
never  in  such  fear  as  now.  The  King's  sessions  are  being  kept  in 
five  shires  more  than  formerly."  Not  only  were  the  Englishmen  of 
the  Pale  at  Henry's  feet,  but  the  kernes  of  Wicklow  and  Wexford  sent 
in  their  submission  ;  and  for  the  first  time  in  men's  memory  an  English 
army  appeared  in  Munster  and  reduced  the  south  to  obedience.  A 
castle  of  the  O'Briens,  which  guarded  the  passage  of  the  Shannon,  was 
carried  by  assault,  and  its  fall  carried  with  it  the  submission  of  Clare. 
The  capture  of  Athlone  brought  about  the  reduction  of  Connaught, 
and  assured  the  loyalty  of  the  great  Norman  house  of  the  De  Burghs 
or  Bourkes,  who  had  assumed  an  almost  royal  authority  in  the  west. 
The  resistance  of  the  tribes  of  the  north  was  broken  in  the  vict  ry  of 
Bellahoe.  In  seven  years,  partly  through  the  vigour  of  Skeffington's 
successor,  Lord  Leonard  Grey,  and  still  more  through  the  resolute 
will  of  Henry  and  Cromwell,  the  power  of  the  Crown,  which  had  been 
'imited  to  the  walls  of  Dublin,  was  acknowledged  over  the  length  and 

Q 


450 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ICHAF 


breadth  of  Ireland.  But  submission  was  far  from  being  all  that  Henry 
desired.  His  aim  was  to  civilize  the  people  whom  he  had  conquerea 
— to  rule  not  by  force  but  by  law.  But  the  only  conception  of  law 
which  the  King  or  his  ministers  could  frame  was  that  of  English  law. 
The  customary  law  which  prevailed  without  the  Pale,  the  native 
system  of  clan  government  and  common  tenure  of  land  by  the  tribe, 
as  well  as  the  poetry  and  literature  which  threw  their  lustre  over  the 
Irish  tongue,  were  either  unknown  to  the  English  statesmen,  or 
despised  by  them  as  barbarous.  The  one  mode  of  civilizing  Ireland 
and  redressing  its  chaotic  misrule  which  presented  itself  to  their  minds, 
was  that  of  destroying  the  whole  Celtic  tradition  of  the  Irish  people — 
that  of  "  making  Ireland  English"  in  manners,  in  law,  and  in  tongue. 
The  Deputy,  Parliament,  Judges,  Sheriffs,  which  already  existed 
within  the  Pale,  furnished  a  faint  copy  of  Enj^lish  institutions  ;  and 
these,  it  was  hoped,  might  be  gradually  extended  over  the  whole  island. 
The  English  language  and  mode  of  life  would  follow,  it  was  believed, 
the  English  law.  The  one  effectual  way  of  bringing  about  such  a 
change  as  this  lay  in  a  complete  conquest  of  the  island,  and  in  its 
colonization  by  English  settlers  ;  but  from  this  course,  pressed  on  him 
as  it  was  by  his  own  lieutenants  and  by  the  settlers  of  the  Pale,  even 
the  iron  will  of  Cromwell  shrank.  It  was  at  once  too  bloody  and  too 
expensive.  To  win  over  the  chiefs,  to  turn  them  by  policy  and  a 
patient  generosity  into  English  nobles,  to  use  the  traditional  devotion 
of  their  tribal  dependents  as  a  means  of  diffusing  the  new  civilization 
of  their  chiefs,  to  trust  to  time  and  steady  government  for  the  gradual 
reformation  of  the  country,  was  a  policy  safer,  cheaper,  more  humane, 
rind  more  statesmanlike.  It  was  this  system  which,  even  before  the 
fall  of  the  Geraldines,  Henry  had  resolved  to  adopt  ;  and  it  was  this 
which  he  pressed  on  Ireland  when  the  conquest  laid  it  at  his  feet. 
The  chiefs  were  to  be  persuaded  of  the  advantage  of  justice  and  legal 
rule.  Their  fear  of  any  ]  urpose  to  "expel  them  from  their  lands  and 
dominions  lawfully  possessed  "  was  to  be  dispelled  by  a  promise  "  to 
conserve  them  as  their  own."  Even  their  remonstrances  against  the 
introduction  of  English  law  were  to  be  regarded,  and  the  course  of 
justice  to  be  enforced  or  mitigated  according  to  the  circumstances  of 
I  lie  country.  In  the  resumption  of  lands  or  rights  which  clearly 
belonged  to  the  Crown  "sober  ways,  politic  shifts,  and  amiable 
persuasions"  were  to  be  preferred  to  rigorous  dealing.  It  was  this 
system  of  conciliation  which  was  in  the  main  carried  out  by  the 
English  Government  under  Henry  and  his  two  successors.  Chieftain 
after  chieftain  was  won  over  to  the  acceptance  of  the  indenture  which 
'guaranteed  him  in  the  possession  of  his  lands,  and  left  his  authority 
over  his  tribesmen  untouched,  on  condition  of  a  pledge  of  loyalty,  of 
abstinence  from  illegal  wars  and  exactions  on  his  fellow-subjects, 
and  of  rendering  a  tixed  tribute  and  service  in  war-time  to  the  Crown 


ni.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


451 


The  sole  test  of  loyalty  demanded  was  the  acceptance  of  an  English 
title,  and  the  education  of  a  son  at  the  English  court  ;  though  in 
some  cases,  hke  that  of  the  O'Neills,  a  promise  was  exacted  to 
use  the  English  language  and  dress,  and  to  encourage  tillage  and 
husbandry.  Compliance  with  conditions  such  as  these  was  procured, 
not  merely  by  the  terror  of  the  royal  name,  but  by  heavy  bribes.  The 
chieftains  in  fact  profited  greatly  by  the  change.  Not  only  were  the 
lands  of  the  suppressed  abbeys  granted  to  them  on  their  assumption  of 
their  new  titles,  but  the  English  law-courts,  ignoring  the  Irish  custom 
by  which  the  land  belonged  to  the  tribe  at  large,  regarded  the  chiefs 
as  sole  proprietors  of  the  soil. 

The  merits  of  the  system  were  unquestionable  ;  its  faults  were  such 
as  a  statesman  of  that  day  could  hardly  be  expected  to  perceive.  The 
Tudor  politicians  held  that  the  ore  hope  for  the  regeneration  of 
Ireland  lay  in  its  absorbing  the  civilization  of  England.  The  prohibi- 
tion of  the  national  dress,  customs,  laws,  and  language  must  have 
seemed  to  them  merely  the  suppression  of  a  barbarism  which  stood 
in  the  way  of  all  improvement.  At  this  moment  however  a  fatal 
blunder  plunged  Ireland  into  religious  strife.  The  religious  aspect  of 
Ireland  was  hardly  less  chaotic  than  its  political  aspect  had  been. 
Ever  since  Strongbow's  landing  there  had  been  no  one  Irish  Church, 
simply  because  there  had  been  no  one  Irish  nation.  There  was  not 
the  slightest  difference  in  doctrine  or  discipline  between  the  Church 
without  the  Pale  and  the  Church  within  it.  But  within  the  Pale  the 
clergy  were  exclusively  of  English  blood  and  speech,  and  without  it 
they  ^  ere  exclusively  of  Irish.  Irishmen  were  shut  out  by  law  from 
abb^ .  ^  and  churches  within  the  English  boundary  ;  and  the  ill-will  of 
the  natives  shut  out  Englishmen  from  churches  and  abbeys  outside  it. 
As  to  the  religious  state  of  the  country,  it  was  much  on  a  level  with  its 
political  condition.  Feuds  and  misrule  had  told  fatally  on  ecclesiastical 
discipline.  The  bishops  were  political  officers,  or  hard  fighters  like  the 
chiefs  around  them  ;  their  sees  were  neglected,  their  cathedrals  aban- 
doned to  decay.  Through  whole  dioceses  the  churches  lay  in  ruins  and 
without  priests.  The  only  preaching  done  in  the  country  was  done 
by  the  begging  friars,  and  the  results  of  the  friars'  preaching  were 
small.  "  If  the  King  do  not  provide  a  remedy,"  it  was  said  in  1525, 
"there  will  be  no  more  Christentie  than  in  the  middle  of  Turkey." 
Unfortunately  the  remedy  which  Henry  provided  was  worse  than  the 
disease.  Politically  Ireland  was  one  with  England,  and  the  great 
revolution  which  was  severing  the  one  country  from  the  Papacy 
extended  itself  naturally  to  the  other.  The  results  of  it  indeed  at  first 
seemed  small  enough.  The  Supremacy,  a  question  which  had  convulsed 
England,  passed  over  into  Ireland  to  meet  its  only  obstacle  in  a  general 
indifference.  Everybody  was  ready  to  accept  it  without  a  thought 
of  its  consequences.     The  bishops  and  clergy  within  the  Pale  bent  to 


452 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


the  King's  will  as  easily  as  their  fellows  in  England,  and  their  example 
was  followed  by  at  least  four  prelates  of  dioceses  without  the  Pale.  The 
native  chieftains  made  no  more  scruple  than  the  Lords  of  the  Council 
in  renouncing  obedience  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  in  acknowledging 
Henry  as  the  "  Supreme  Head  of  the  Church  of  England  and  Ireland 
under  Christ."  There  was  none  of  the  resistance  to  the  dissolution  of 
the  abbeys  which  had  been  witnessed  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel, 
and  the  greedy  chieftains  showed  themselves  perfectly  willing  to  share 
the  plunder  of  the  Church.  But  the  results  of  the  measure  were  fatal 
to  the  little  culture  and  religion  which  even  the  past  centuries  of  disorder 
had  spared.  Such  as  they  were,  the  religious  houses  were  the  only 
schools  which  Ireland  contained.  The  system  of  vicars,  so  general  in 
England,  was  rare  in  Ireland  ;  churches  in  the  patronage  of  the 
abbeys  were  for  the  most  part  served  by  the  religious  themselves, 
and  the  dissolution  of  their  houses  suspended  public  worship  over 
large  districts  of  the  country.  The  friars,  hitherto  the  only  preachers, 
and  who  continued  to  labour  and  teach  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the 
Government,  were  thrown  necessarily  into  a  position  of  antagonism  to 
the  English  rule. 

Had  the  ecclesiastical  changes  which  were  forced  on  the  country 
ended  here,  however,  little  harm  would  in  the  end  have  been  done. 
But  in  England  the  breach  with  Rome,  the  destruction  of  the  monastic 
orders,  and  the  establishment  of  the  Supremacy,  had.roused  in  a  portion 
of  the  people  itself  a  desire  for  theological  change  which  Henry  shared, 
and  was  cautiously  satisfying.  In  Ireland  the  spirit  of  the  Reforma- 
tion never  existed  among  the  people  at  all.  They  accepted  the 
legislative  measures  passed  in  the  English  Parliament  without  any 
uream  of  theological  consequences,  or  of  any  change  in  the  doctrine  or 
ceremonies  of  the  Church.  Not  a  single  voice  demanded  the  abolition 
of  pilgrimages,  or  the  destruction  of  images,  or  the  reform  of  public 
worship.  The  mission  of  Archbishop  Browne  "for  the  plucking  down 
of  idols  and  extinguishing  of  idolatry "  was  a  first  step  in  the  long 
effort  of  the  English  Government  to  force  a  new  faith  on  a  people  who 
to  a  man  clung  passionately  to  their  old  religion.  Browne's  .ittemptsat 
"tuning  the  pulpits"  were  met  by  a  sullen  and  significant  opposition. 
"  Neither  by  gentle  exhortation,"  the  Primate  wrote  to  Cromwell,  "nor 
by  evangelical  instruction,  neither  by  oath  of  them  solemnly  taken, 
nor  yet  by  threats  of  sharp  correction  may  I  persuade  or  induce  any, 
whether  religious  or  secular,  since  my  coming  over,  once  to  preach  the 
Word  of  God  nor  the  just  title  of  our  illustrious  Prince.  *  Even  the 
acceptance  of  the  Supremacy,  which  had  been  so  quietly  effected,  was 
brought  into  question  when  its  results  became  clear.  The  bishops 
.lb  taincd  from  compliance  with  the  order  to  erase  the  Pope's  name 
out  of  their  mass-books.  The  pulpits  remained  steadily  silent.  When 
Browne  ordered  the  destruction  of  the  images  and  relics  in  nis  owo 


711.} 


THE  REFORMATION. 


453 


cathedral,  he  had  to  report  that  the  prior  and  canons  "  find  them  so 
sweet  for  their  gain  that  they  heed  not  my  words."    Cromwell,  however, 
was  resolute  for  a  religious  uniformity  between  the  two  islands,  and  the 
Primate  borrowed  some  of  his  patron's  vigour.     Recalcitrant  priests 
were  thrown  into  prison,  images  were  plucked  down  from  the  roodloft, 
and  the  most  venerable  of  Irish  relics,  the  Staff  of  St.  Patrick,  was  burnt 
in  the  market-place.     But  he  found  no  support  in  his  vigour,  save  from 
across  the  Channel.     The  Irish  Council  was  cold.     The  Lord  Deputy 
knelt  to   say   prayers  before   an  image  at  Trim.     A  sullen,  dogged 
opposition  baffled  Cromwell's  efforts,  and  his  fall  was  followed  by  a 
long  respite  in  the  religious  changes  which  he  was  forcing  on  the  con- 
quered dependency.     With  the  accession  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  how- 
ever, the  system  of  change  was  renewed  with  all  the  energy  of  Protestant 
zeal.     The  bishops  were  summoned  before  the  Deputy,  Sir  Anthony 
St.  Leger,  to  receive  the  new  English  Liturgy,  which,  though  written 
in  a  tongue  as  strange  to  the  native  Irish  as  Latin  itself,  was  now  to 
supersede  the  Latin  service-book  in  every  diocese.     The  order  was  the 
signal  for  an  open  strife.    "  Now  shall  every  illiterate  fellow  read  Mass," 
burst  forth  Dowdall,  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  as  he  flung  out  of  the 
chamber  with  all  but  one  of  his  suffragans  at  his  heels.     Archbishop 
Browne,  of  Dublin,  on  the  other  hand,  was  followed  in  his  profession 
of  obedience  by  the  Bishops  of  Meath,  Limerick,  and  Kildare.     The 
Government,  however,  was  far  from  quailing  before  the  division  of  the 
episcopate.     Dowdall  was  driven  from  the  country,  and  the  vacant  sees 
were  filled  with  Protestants,  like  Bale,  of  the  most  advanced  type.    But 
no  change  could  be  wrought  by  measures  such  as  these  on  the  opinions 
of  the  people  themselves.    The  new  episcopal  reformers  spoke  no  Irish, 
and  of  their  English  sermons  not  a  word  was  understood  by  the  rude 
kernes  around  the  pulpit.     The  native  priests  remained  silent.     "  As 
for  preaching  we  have  none,"  reports  a  zealous  Protestant,  "  without 
which  the  ignorant  can  have  no  knowledge."     The  prelates  who  used 
the  new  Prayer-book  were  simply  regarded  as  heretics.     The  Bishop  of 
Meath  was  assured  by  one  of  his  flock  that,  "  if  the  country  wist  how, 
they  would  eat  you."     Protestantism  had  failed  to  wrest  a  single  Irish- 
man from  his  older  convictions,  but  it  succeeded  in  uniting  all  Ireland 
against  the  Crown.     The  old  political  distinctions  which  had  been  pro- 
duced by  the  conquest  of  Strongbow  faded  before  the  new  struggle  for 
a  common  faith.    The  population  within  the  Pale  and  without  it  became 
one,  "  not  as  the  Irish  nation,"  it  has  been  acutely  said,  "  but  as  Catho- 
lics."    A  new  sense  of  national  identity  was  found  in  the  identity  of 
religion.     "  Both  English  and  Irish  begin  to  oppose  your  Lordship's 
orders,"  Browne  had  written  years  before  to  Cromwell,  "and  to  lay  aside 
their  national  old  quarrels." 

With  the  accession  of  Mary  the  shadowy  form  of  this  earlier  Irish 
Protestantism  melted  quietly  away.     There  were  no  Protestants  in 


454 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Ireland  save  the  new  bishops ;  and  when  Bale  had  fled  over  sea, 
and  his  fellow-prelates  had  been  deprived,  the  Church  resumed  its  old 
appearance.  No  attempt,  indeed,  was  made  to  restore  the  monasteries ; 
and  Mary  exercised  her  supremacy,  deposed  and  appointed  bishops, 
and  repudiated  Papal  interference  with  her  ecclesiastical  acts,  as 
vigorously  as  her  father.  But  the  Mass  was  restored,  the  old  modes  of 
religious  worship  were  again  held  in  honour,  and  religious  dissension 
between  the  Government  and  its  Irish  subjects  was  for  the  time  at  an 
end.  With  the  close,  however,  of  one  danger  came  the  rise  of  another. 
England  was  growing  tired  of  the  policy  of  conciliation  which  had 
been  steadily  pursued  by  Henry  the  Eighth  and  his  successor.  As 
yet  it  had  been  rewarded  with  precisely  the  sort  of  success  which 
Wolsey  and  Cromwell  anticipated  ;  the  chiefs  had  come  quietly  in  to 
the  plan,  and  their  septs  had  followed  them  in  submission  to  the  new 
order.  "  The  winning  of  the  Earl  of  Desmond  was  the  winning  of 
the  rest  of  Munster  with  small  charges.  The  making  O'Brien  an  Earl 
made  all  that  country  obedient."  The  Macwilliam  became  Lord 
Clanrickard,  and  the  Fitzpatricks  Barons  of  Upper  Ossory.  A  visit  of 
the  great  northern  chief  who  had  accepted  the  title  of  Earl  of  Tyrone 
to  the  English  Court  was  regarded  as  a  marked  step  in  the  process  of 
civilization.  In  the  south,  where  the  system  of  English  law  was  slowly 
spreading,  the  chieftains  sate  on  the  bench  side  by  side  with  the 
English  justices  of  the  peace  ;  and  something  had  been  done  to  check 
the  feuds  and  disorder  of  the  wild  tribes  between  Limerick  and  Tippe- 
rary.  "  Men  may  pass  quietly  throughout  these  countries  without 
danger  of  robbery  or  other  displeasure."  In  the  Clanrickard  county, 
once  wasted  with  war,  "  ploughing  increaseth  daily."  In  Tyrone  and 
the  north,  indeed,  the  old  disorder  reigned  without  a  check  ;  and 
everywhere  the  process  of  improvement  tried  the  temper  of  the  English 
Deputies  by  the  slowness  of  its  advance.  The  only  hope  of  any  real 
progress  lay  in  patience  ;  and  there  were  signs  that  the  Government  at 
Dublin  found  it  hard  to  wait.  The  "  rough  handling  "  of  the  chiefs  by 
Sir  Edward  Bellingham,  a  Lord  Deputy  under  the  Protector  Somerset, 
roused  a  spirit  of  revolt  that  only  subsided  when  the  poverty  of  the 
Exchequer  forced  him  to  withdraw  the  garrisons  he  had  planted  in  the 
heart  of  the  country.  His  successor  in  Mary's  reign.  Lord  Sussex, 
made  raid  after  raid  to  no  purpose  on  the  obstinate  tribes  of  the  north, 
burning  in  one  the  Cathedral  of  Armagh  and  three  other  churches.  A 
far  more  serious  breach  in  the  system  of  conciliation  was  made  when 
the  project  of  English  colonization  which  Henry  had  steadily  rejected 
was  adopted  by  the  same  Lord  Deputy,  and  when  the  country  of  the 
O'Connors  was  assigned  to  English  settlers,  and  made  shire-land  under 
the  names  of  King's  and  Queen's  Counties,  in  honour  of  Philip  and 
Mary.  A  savage  warfare  began  at  once  between  the  planters  and  the 
dispossessed  septs,  which  only  ended  in  the  following  reign  in  the 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


455 


extermination  of  the  Irishmen.  Commissioners  were  appointed  to 
survey  waste  lands,  with  the  aim  of  carrying  the  work  of  colonization 
into  other  districts,  but  the  pressure  of  the  French  war  put  an  end  to 
these  wider  projects.  Elizabeth  at  her  accession  recognized  the  risk 
of  the  policy  of  confiscation  and  colonization,  and  the  prudence  of  Cecil 
fell  back  on  the  safer  though  more  tedious  methods  of  Henry. 

The  alarm  however  at  English  aggression  had  already  spread  among 
the  natives  :  and  its  result  was  seen  in  a  revolt  of  the  north,  and  in 
the  rise  of  a  leader  far  more  vigorous  and  able  than  any  with  whom 
the  Government  had  had  as  yet  to  contend.  An  acceptance  of  the 
Earldom  of  Tyrone  by  the  chief  of  the  O'Neills  brought  about  the  inevi- 
table conflict  between  the  system  of  succession  recognized  by  English 
and  that  recognized  by  Irish  law.  On  the  death  of  the  Earl,  England 
acknowledged  his  eldest  son  as  the  heir  of  his  Earldom  ;  while  the  sept 
maintained  their  older  right  of  choosing  a  chief  from  among  the  members 
of  the  family,  and  preferred  Shane  O'Neill,  a  younger  son  of  less  doubt- 
ful legitimacy.  S  ussex  marched  northward  to  settle  the  question  by  force 
of  arms  ;  but  ere  he  could  reach  Ulster  the  activity  of  Shane  had  quelled 
the  disaffection  of  his  rivals,  the  O'Donnells  of  Donegal,  and  won  over 
the  Scots  of  Antrim.  "  Never  before,"  wrote  Sussex,  "durst  Scot  or 
Irishman  look  Englishman  in  the  face  in  plain  or  wood  since  I  came 
here  ;  "  but  Shane  had  fired  his  men  with  a  new  courage,  and  charging 
the  Deputy's  army  with  a  force  hardly  half  its  number,  drove  it 
back  in  rout  on  Armagh.  A  promise  of  pardon  induced  him  to  visit 
London,  and  make  an  illusory  submission,  but  he  was  no  sooner  safe 
home  again  than  its  terms  were  set  aside ;  and  after  a  wearisome 
struggle,  in  which  Shane  foiled  the  efforts  of  the  Lord  Deputy  to  entrap 
or  to  poison  him,  he  remained  virtually  master  of  the  north.  His 
success  stirred  larger  dreams  of  ambition  ;  he  invaded  Connaught, 
and  pressed  Clanrickard  hard :  while  he  replied  to  the  remonstrances 
of  the  Council  at  DubHn  with  a  bold  defiance.  "  By  the  sword  I  have 
won  these  lands,"  he  answered,  "  and  by  the  sword  will  I  keep  them.'' 
But  defiance  broke  idly  against  the  skill  and  vigour  of  Sir  Henry 
Sidney,  who  succeeded  Sussex  as  Lord  Deputy.  The  rival  septs 
of  the  north  were  drawn  into  a  rising  against  O'Neill,  while  the  English 
army  advanced  from  the  Pale ;  and  Shane,  defeated  by  the  O'Donnells, 
took  refuge  in  Antrim,  and  was  hewn  to  pieces  in  a  drunken  squabble 
by  his  Scottish  entertainers.  The  victory  of  Sidney  won  ten  years  of 
peace  for  the  wretched  country  ;  but  Ireland  had  already  been  fixed  on 
by  the  Papacy  as  ground  on  which  it  could  with  advantage  fight  out 
its  quarrel  with  Elizabeth.  Practically  indeed  the  religious  question 
hardly  existed  there.  The  ecclesiastical  policy  of  the  Protestants  had 
indeed  been  revived  in  name  on  the  Queen's  accession  ;  Rome  was 
again  renounced,  the  new  Act  of  Uniformity  forced  the  English  Prayer- 
book  on  the  island,  and  compelled  attendance  at  the  services  in  which 


456 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


it  was  used.  There  was  as  before  a  general  air  of  compliance  with 
the  law ;  even  in  the  districts  without  the  Pale  the  bishops  generally 
conformed,  and  the  only  exceptions  of  which  we  have  any  informa- 
tion were  to  be  found  in  the  extreme  south  and  in  the  north,  where 
resistance  was  distant  enough  to  be  safe.  But  the  real  cause  of  this 
apparent  submission  to  the  Act  of  Uniformity  lay  in  the  fact  that  it 
remained,  and  necessarily  remained,  a  dead  letter.  It  was  impossible 
to  find  any  considerable  number  of  English  ministers,  or  of  Irish  priests 
acquainted  with  English.  Meath  was  one  of  the  most  civilized  dioceses, 
and  out  of  a  hundred  curates  in  it  hardly  ten  knew  any  tongue  save 
their  own.  The  promise  that  the  service-book  should  be  translated 
into  Irish  was  never  fulfilled,  and  the  final  clause  of  the  Act  itself 
authorized  the  use  of  a  Latin  rendering  of  it  till  further  order  could  be 
taken.  But  this,  like  its  other  provisions,  was  ignored,  and  throughout 
Elizabeth's  reign  the  gentry  of  the  Pale  went  unquestioned  to  Mass. 
There  was  in  fact  no  religious  persecution,  and  in  the  many  complaints 
of  Shane  O'Neill  we  find  no  mention  of  a  religious  grievance.  But 
this  was  far  from  being  the  view  of  Rome  or  of  Spain,  of  the  Catholic 
missionaries,  or  of  the  Irish  exiles  abroad.  They  represented,  and 
perhaps  believed,  the  Irish  people  to  be  writhing  under  a  religious 
of)pression  which  they  were  burning  to  shake  off.  They  saw  in  the 
Irish  loyalty  to  Catholicism  a  lever  for  overthrowing  the  heretic  Queen 
when  in  1 579  the  Papacy  planned  the  greatest  and  most  comprehensive 
of  its  attacks  upon  Elizabeth.  While  missionaries  egged  on  the  English 
Catholics  to  revolt,  the  Pope  hastened  to  bring  about  a  Catholic  revolu- 
tion in  Scotland  and  in  Ireland.  Stukely,  an  Irish  refugee,  had  long 
pressed  on  the  Pope  and  Spain  the  policy  of  a  descent  on  Ireland  ;  and 
his  plans  were  carried  out  at  last  by  the  landing  of  a  small  force  on  the 
shores  of  Kerry.  In  spite  of  the  arrival  in  the  following  year  of  two 
thousand  Papal  soldiers  accompanied  by  a  Legate,  the  attempt  ended 
in  a  miserable  failure.  The  fort  of  Smerwick,  in  which  the  invaders 
entrenched  themselves,  was  forced  by  the  new  Deputy,  Lord  Grey,  to 
surrender,  and  its  garrison  put  ruthlessly  to  the  sword.  The  Earl  of 
Desmond,  who  after  long  indecision  rose  to  support  them,  was  defeated 
and  hunted  over  his  own  country,  which  the  panic-born  cruelty  of  his 
pursuers  harried  into  a  wilderness.  Pitiless  as  it  was,  the  work  done  in 
Munster  spread  a  terror  over  the  land  which  served  England  in  good 
stead  when  the  struggle  with  Catholicism  eliminated  in  the  fight  wi.h 
the  Armada  ;  and  not  a  chieftain  stirred  during  that  memorable  yeai 
save  to  massacre  the  miserable  men  who  were  shipwr-  ked  along  the 
coast  of  Bantry  or  Sligo. 

The  power  of  the  Government  was  from  this  moment  recognized 
everywhere  throughout  the  land.  But  it  was  a  power  founded  solely 
on  terror ;  and  th ;  outrages  and  exactions  of  the  soldiery,  who  had 
been  Hushed  with  rapine  and  bloodshed  in  the  south,  sowed  during  the 


VII.] 


THE  REFORMATION. 


457 


years  which  followed  the  reduction  of  Munster  the  seeds  of  a  revolt 
more  formidable  than  any  which  Elizabeth  had  yet  encountered.     The 
tribes  of  Ulster,  divided  by  the  policy  of  Sidney,  were  again  united 
by  the  common  hatred  of  their  oppressors  ;    and  in    Hugh  O'Neill 
they  found  a  leader  of  even  greater  ability  than  Shane  himself.    Hugh 
had  been  brought  up  at  the  English  court,  and  was  in  manners  and 
bearing  an  Englishman  ;  he  had  been  rewarded  for  his  steady  loyalty 
in  previous  contests  by  a  grant  of   the  Earldom  of  Tyrone  ;  and  in 
his  strife  with  a  rival  chieftain  of  his  clan  he  had  secured  aid  from  the 
Government  by  an  offer  to  introduce  the  English  laws  and  shire-system 
into  his  new  country.     But  he  was  no  sooner  undisputed  master  of  the 
north  than  his  tone  gradually  changed.     Whether  from  a  long-formed 
plan,  or  from  suspicion  of  English  designs  upon  himself,  he  at  last 
took  a  position  of  open  defiance.     It  was  at  the  moment  when  the 
Treaty  of  Vervins,  and  the  wreck  of  the  second  Armada,  freed  Eliza- 
beth's hands  from  the  struggle  with  Spain,  that  the  revolt  under  Hugh 
O'Neill  broke  the  quiet  which  had  prevailed  since  the  victories  of  Lord 
Grey.    The  Irish  question  again  became  the  chief  trouble  of  the  Queen 
The  tide  of  her  recent  triumphs  seemed  at  first  to  have  turned.     A 
defeat  of  the  English  forces  in  Tyrone  caused  a  general  rising  of  the 
northern  tribes  ;  and  a  great  effort  made  in  1599  for  the  suppression  of 
the  growing  revolt  failed  through  the  vanity  and  disobedience,  if  not 
the  treacherous  complicity,  of  the  Queen's  Lieutenant,  the  young  Earl 
of  Essex.     His  successor,  Lord  Mountjoy,  found  himself  master  on  his 
arrival  of  only  a  few  miles  round  Dublin.     But  in  three  years  the  revolt 
was  at  an  end.     A  Spanish  force  which  landed  to  support  it  at  Kinsale 
was  driven  to  surrender  ;  a  line  of  forts  secured  the  country  as  the 
English  mastered  it ;    all  open   opposHion  was   crushed  out  by   the 
energy  and  the  ruthlessness  of  the  new  Lieutenant  ;  and  a  famine 
which  followed  on  his  ravages  completed  the  devastating  work  of  the 
sword.     Hugh  O'Neill  was  brought  in  triumph  to  Dublin  ;  the  Earl  of 
Desmond,  who  had  again  roused  Munster  into  revolt,  fled  for  refuge  to 
Spain ;  and  the  work  of  conquest  was  at  last  brought  to  a  close.     Under 
the  administration  of  Mountjoy's  successor.  Sir  Arthur  Chichester,  an 
able  and  determined  effort  was  made  for  the  settlement  of  the  conquered 
province  by  the  general  introduction  of  a  purely  English  system  of 
government,  justice,  and  property.     Every  vestige  of  the  old  Celtic 
constitution  of  the  country  was  rejected  as  "  barbarous."     The  tribal 
authority  of  the  chiefs  was  taken  from  them  by  law.    They  were  reduced 
to  the  position  of  great  nobles  and  landowners,  while  their  tribesmen 
rose  from  subjects  into  tenants,  owing  only  fixed  and  customaiy  dues 
and  services  to  their  lords.     The  tribal  system  of  property  in  common 
was  set  aside,  and  the  com.munal  holdings  of  the  tribesmen  turned 
^uto  the  copyholds  of  English  law.     In  the  same  way  the  chieftains 
were  stripped  of  their  hereditary  jurisdiction,  and  th*^  English  system 

Q* 


^ss 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


(chap. 


of  judges  and  trial  by  jury  substituted  for  their  proceedings  under 
Brehon  or  customary  law.  To  all  this  the  Celts  opposed  the  tenacious 
obstinacy  of  their  race.  Irish  juries,  then  as  now,  refused  to  convict. 
Glad  as  the  tribesmen  were  to  be  freed  from  the  arbitrary  exactions 
of  their  chiefs,  they  held  them  for  chieftains  still.  The  attempt  made 
by  Chichester,  under  pressure  from  England,  to  introduce  the  English 
uniformity  of  religion  ended  in  utter  failure  ;  for  the  Englishry  of  the 
Pale  remained  as  Catholic  as  the  native  Irishry  ;  and  the  sole  result 
of  the  measure  was  to  build  up  a  new  Irish  people  out  of  both  on  the 
common  basis  of  religion.  Much,  however,  had  been  done  by  the 
firm  yet  moderate  government  of  the  Deputy,  and  signs  were  already 
appearing  of  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  people  to  conform 
gradually  to  the  new  usages,  when  the  English  Council  under  Eliza- 
beth's successor  suddenly  resolved  upon  and  carried  through  the  great 
revolutionary  measure  which  is  known  as  the  Colonization  of  Ulster. 
The  pacific  and  conservative  policy  of  Chichester  was  abandoned  for 
a  vast  policy  of  spoliation  ;  two-thirds  of  the  north  of  Ireland  was 
declared  to  have  been  confiscated  to  the  Crown  by  the  part  its 
possessors  had  taken  in  a  recent  effort  at  revolt  ;  and  the  lands  which 
were  thus  gained  were  allotted  to  new  settlers  of  Scotch  and  English 
extraction.  In  its  material  results  the  Plantation  of  Ulster  was 
undoubtedly  a  brilliant  success.  Farms  and  homesteads,  churches 
and  mills,  rose  fast  amidst  the  desolate  wilds  of  Tyrone.  The  Corpora- 
tion of  London  undertook  the  colonization  of  Derry,  and  gave  to  the 
little  town  the  name  which  its  heroic  defence  has  made  so  famous. 
The  foundations  of  the  economic  prosperity  which  has  raised  Ulster 
high  above  the  rest  of  Ireland  in  wealth  and  intelligence  were  un- 
doubtedly laid  in  the  confiscation  of  1610.  Nor  did  the  measure  meet 
with  any  opposition  at  the  time  save  that  of  secret  discontent.  The 
evicted  natives  withdrew  sullenly  to  the  lands  which  had  been  left 
them  by  the  spoiler  ;  but  all  faith  in  English  justice  had  been  torn 
from  the  minds  of  the  Irishry,  and  the  seed  had  been  sown  of  that 
fatal  harvest  of  distrust  and  disaffection,  which  was  to  be  reaped  through 
tyranny  and  massacre  in  the  age  to  come. 

The  colonization  of  Ulster  has  carried  us  beyond  the  limits  of  oui 
present  story.  The  triumph  of  Mountjoy  flung  its  lustre  over  the 
last  days  of  Elizabeth,  but  no  outer  triumph  could  break  the  gloom 
which  gathered  round  the  dying  Queen.  Lonely  as  she  had  always 
been,  her  loneliness  deepened  as  she  drew  towards  the  grave.  The 
statesmen  and  warriors  of  her  eailier  clays  had  dropped  one  by  one 
from  her  Council-board  ;  and  their  successors  were  watching  her  last 
moments,  and  intriguing  for  favour  in  the  coming  reign.  Her  favourite, 
Lord  Essex,  was  led  into  an  insane  outbreak  of  revolt  which  brought  him 
to  the  block.  The  old  splendour  of  her  court  waned  and  disappeared. 
Only  officials  remained  about  her, "  the  other  of  the  Council  and  nobility 


VII.  1 


THE  REFORMATION. 


459 


estrange  themselves  by  all  occasions."  As  she  passed  along  in  her 
progresses,  the  people  whose  applause  she  courted  remained  cold  and 
silent.  The  temper  of  the  age,  in  fact,  was  changing,  and  isolating  her 
as  it  changed.  Her  own  England,  the  England  which  had  grown  up 
around  her,  serious,  moral,  prosaic,  shrank  coldly  from  this  brilliant, 
fanciful,  unscrupulous  child  of  earth  and  the  Renascence.  She 
had  enjoyed  life  as  the  men  of  her  day  enjoyed  it,  and  now  that 
they  were  gone  she  clung  to  it  with  a  fierce  tenacity.  She  hunted,  she 
danced,  she  jested  with  her  young  favourites,  she  coquetted  and 
scolded  and  frolicked  at  sixty-seven  as  she  had  done  at  thirty.  *'  The 
Queen,"  wrote  a  courtier  a  few  months  before  her  death,  "  was  never 
so  gallant  these  many  years,  nor  so  set  upon  jollity."  She  persisted,  in 
spite  of  opposition,  in  her  gorgeous  progresses  from  country-house  to 
country-house.  She  clung  to  business  as  of  old,  and  rated  in  her  usual 
fashion  "one  who  minded  not  to  giving  up  some  matter  of  account." 
But  death  crept  on.  Her  face  became  haggard,  and  her  frame  shrank 
almost  to  a  skeleton.  At  last  her  taste  for  finery  disappeared,  and  she 
refused  to  ch^jaggjier^^fessesler-a-week  together.  A  strange  melancholy 
settled  down  on  herT""^^^^^  held  in  her  hand,"  says  one  who  saw  her 
in  her  last  days,  "a  golden  cup,  which  she  often  put  to  her  lips  :  but  in 
^ruth  her  heart  seemed  too  full  to  need  more  filling."  Gradually  her 
mmd  gave  way.  She  lost  her  memory,  the  violence  of  her  temper 
became  unbearable,  her  very  courage  seemed  to  forsake  her.  She 
called  for  a  sword  to  lie  constantly  beside  her,  and  thrust  it  from  time 
to  time  through  the  arras,  as  if  she  heard  murderers  stirring  there. 
food  and  rest  became  alike  distasteful.  She  sate  day  and  night  propped 
up  with  pillows  on  a  stool,  her  finger  on  her  lip,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
floor,  without  a  word.  If  she  once  broke  the  silence,  it  was  with  .i 
flash  of  her  old  queenliness.  When  Robert  Cecil  asserted  that  she 
*'  must "  go  to  bed,  the  word  roused  her  like  a  trumpet.  "  Must !  "  she 
exclaimed  ;  "  is  must  a  word  to  be  addressed  to  princes  1  Little  man, 
iittle  man  !  thy  father,  if  he  had  been  alive,  durst  not  have  used  that 
word."  Then,  as  her  anger  spent  itself,  she  sank  into  her  old  de- 
jection. "  Thou  art  so  presumptuous,"  she  said,  "because  thou  knowe ^t 
I  shall  die."  She  rallied  once  more  when  the  ministers  beside  her 
bed  named  Lord  Beauchamp,  the  heir  to  the  Suffolk  claim,  as  a 
possible  successor.  "  I  will  have  no  rogue's  son,"  she  cried  hoarsely, 
"  in  my  seat."  But  she  gave  no  sign,  save  a  motion  of  the  head,  at  the 
mention  of  the  King  of  Scots.  She  was  in  fact  fast  becoming  insensible  ; 
and  early  the  next  morning  the  life  of  Elizabeth,  a  life  so  great,  so 
strange  and  lonely  in  its  greatness,  passed  quietly  away. 


460 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 
PURITAN  ENGLAND. 

Section  I.— The  Puritans,  1583-1603. 

[Authorities. — For  the  primary  facts  of  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  this  time, 
Strype's  "  Annals,"  and  his  lives  of  Grindal  and  Whitgift.  Neal's  '*  History 
of  the  Puritans,"  besiiles  its  inaccuracies,  contains  little  for  this  period  which  is 
not  taken  from  the  more  colourless  Strype.  For  the  origin  of  the  Presbyterian 
movement,  see  the  "Discourse  of  the  Troubles  at  Frankfort,  1576,"  often 
repul)lished  ;  for  its  later  contest  with  Elizabeth,  Mr.  Maskell's  "Martin 
Marprelate,"  which  gives  copious  extracts  from  the  rare  pamphlets  printed 
under  that  name.  Mr.  Hallam's  account  of  the  whole  struggle  ("Constitutional 
History,"  caps.  iv.  and  vii.)  is  admirable  for  its  fulness,  lucidity,  and  imparti- 
ality. Wallington's  "Diary"  giv£S  us  the  common  life  of  Puritanism;  its 
higher  side  is  shown  in  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  Memoirs  of  her  husband,  and  in  the 
early  life  of  Milton,  as  told  in  Mr.  Masson's  biography.] 

No  GREATER  moral  change  ever  passed  over  a  nation  than  passed 
over  England  during  the  years  which  parted  the  middle  of  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth  from  the  meeting  of  the  Long  Parliament.  England 
became  the  people  of  a  book,  and  that  book  was  the  Bible.  It  was  as 
yet  the  one  English  book  which  was  familiar  to  every  Englishman  ;  it 
was  read  at  churches  and  read  at  home,  and  everywhere  its  words,  as 
they  fell  on  ears  which  custom  had  not  deadened,  kindled  a  startling 
enthusi.ism.  When  Bishop  Bonner  set  up  the  first  six  Bibles  in  S^ 
Paul's  "  many  well-disposed  people  used  much  to  resort  to  the  hearing 
thereof,  especially  when  they  could  get  any  that  had  an  audible  voice 
to  read  to  them."  ..."  One  John  Porter  used  sometimes  to  be  occu- 
pied in  that  goodly  exercise,  to  the  edifying  of  himself  as  well  as  others. 
This  Porter  was  a  fresh  young  man  and  of  a  big  stature ;  and  great 
multitudes  would  resort  thither  to  hear  him,  because  he  could  read  well 
and  had  an  audible  voice."  But  the  "goodly  exercise"  of  readers 
such  as  Porter  was  soon  superseded  by  the  continued  recitation  of 
both  Old  Testament  and  New  in  the  public  services  of  the  Church  ; 
while  the  small  Geneva  Bibles  carried  the  Scripture  into  every  home. 
The  popularity  of  the  Bible  v.'as  owing  to  other  causes  besides  that  of 
religion.  The  whole  prose  literature  of  England,  save  the  forgotten 
tracts  of  Wyclif,  has  grown  up  since  the  translation  of  (be  Scriptures 
by  Tyndale  and  Coverdale.  So  far  as  the  nation  at  large  w.1s  concerned, 
no  history,  no  romance,  hardly  any  poetry,  save  th^ttlc-known  verse 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


461 


of  Chaucer,  existed  in  the  English  tongue  when  the  Bible  was  ordered 
to  be  set  up  in  churches.  Sunday  after  Sunday,  day  after  day,  the 
crowds  that  gathered  round  Bonner's  Bibles  in  the  nave  of  St.  Paul's, 
or  the  family  group  that  hung  on  the  words  of  the  Geneva  Bible  in  the 
devotional  exercises  at  home,  were  leavened  with  a  new  literature. 
Legend  and  annal,  war-song  and  psalm.  State-roll  and  biography,  the 
mighty  voices  of  prophets,  the  parables  of  Evangelists,  stories  of 
mission  journeys,  of  perils  by  the  sea  and  among  the  heathen,  philo- 
sophic arguments,  apocalyptic  visions,  all  were  flung  broadcast  over 
minds  unoccupied  for  the  most  part  by  any  rival  learning.  The  dis- 
closure of  the  stores  of  Greek  literature  had  wrought  the  revolution  of 
the  Renascence.  The  disclosure  of  the  older  mass  of  Hebrew  litera- 
ture wrought  the  revolution  of  the  Reformation.  But  the  one  revolution 
was  far  deeper  and  wider  in  its  effects  than  the  other.  No  version 
could  transfer  to  another  tongue  the  peculiar  charm  of  language  which 
gave  their  value  to  the  authors  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Classical  letters, 
therefore,  remained  in  the  possession  of  the  learned,  that  is,  of  the 
few  ;  and  among  these,  with  the  exception  of  Colet  and  More,  or  of 
the  pedants  who  revived  a  Pagan  worship  in  the  gardens  of  the  Floren- 
tine Academy,  their  direct  influence  was  purely  intellectual.  But  the 
tongue  of  the  Hebrew,  the  idiom  of  the  Hellenistic  Greek,  lent  them- 
selves with  a  curious  felicity  to  the  purposes  of  translation.  As  a  mere 
literary  monument,  the  English  version  of  the  Bible  remains  the 
noblest  example  of  the  English  tongue,  while  its  perpetual  use  made 
it  from  the  instant  of  its  appearance  the  standard  of  our  language. 
For  the  moment  however  its  literary  effect  was  less  than  its  social. 
The  power  of  the  book  over  the  mass  of  Englishmen  showed  itself  in 
a  thousand  superficial  ways,  and  in  none  more  conspicuously  than  in 
the  influence  it  exerted  on  ordinary  speech.  It  formed,  we  must 
repeat,  the  whole  literature  which  was  practically  accessible  to  ordi- 
nary Englishmen  ;  and  when  we  recall  the  number  of  common  phrases 
which  we  owe  to  great  authors,  the  bits  of  Shakspere,  or  Milton,  or 
Dickens,  or  Thackeray,  which  unconsciously  interweave  themselves  in 
our  ordinary  talk,  we  shall  better  understand  the  strange  mosaic  of 
Biblical  words  and  phrases  which  coloiired  English  talk  two  hundred 
years  ago.  The  mass  of  picturesque  allusion  and  illustration  which 
we  borrow  from  a  thousand  books,  our  fathers  were  forced  to  borrow 
from  one ;  and  the  borrowing  was  the  easier  and  the  more  natural 
that  the  range  of  the  Hebrew  literature  fitted  it  for  the  expression 
of  every  phase  of  feeling.  When  Spenser  poured  forth  his  warmest 
love-notes  in  the  "  Epithalamion,"  he  adopted  the  very  words  of  the 
Psalmist,  as  he  bade  the  gates  open  for  the  entrance  of  his  bride. 
When  Cromwell  saw  the  mists  break  over  the  hills  of  Dunbar,  he 
hailed  the  sun  burst  with  the  cry  of  David  :  "  Let  God  arise,  and  let 
his  enemies  be  scattered.     Like  as  the  smoke  vanisheth,  so  shalt  thou 


462 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


drive  them  away ! "/  Even  to  common  minds  this  familiarity  with 
grand  poetic  imagery  in  prophet  and  apocalypse  gave  a  loftiness  and 
ardoiir  of  expression,  that  with  all  its  tendency  to  exaggeration  and 
bombast  we  may  prefer  to  the  slipsh6d  vulgarisms  of  to-day. 

But  far  greater  than  its  effect  on  literature  or  social  phrase  was  the 
effect  of  the  Bible  on  the  character  of  the  people  at  large.  Elizabeth 
might  silence  or  tune  the  pulpits  ;  but  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
silence  or  tune  the  great  preachers  of  justice,  and  mercy,  and  truth, 
who  spoke  from  the  book  which  she  had  again  opened  for  her  people. 
The  whole  moral  effect  which  is  produced  now-a-days  by  the  religious 
newspaper,  the  tract,  the  essay,  the  lecture,  the  missionary  report,  the 
sermon,  was  then  produced  by  the  Bible  alone  ;  and  its  effect  in  this 
way,  however  dispassionately  we  examine  it,  was  simply  amazing.  One 
dominant  influence  told  on  human  action :  and  all  the  activities  that 
had  been  called  into  life  by  the  age  that  was  passing  away  were 
seized,  concentrated,  and  steadied  to  a  definite  aim  by  the  spirit 
of  religion.  The  whole  temper  of  the  nation  felt  the  change.  A 
new  conception  of  life  and  of  man  superseded  the  old.  A  new  moral 
and  religious  impulse  spread  through  every  class.  Literature  reflected 
the  general  tendency  of  the  time  ;  and  the  dumpy  little  quartos  of 
controversy  and  piety,  which  still  crowd  our  older  libraries,  drove 
before  them  the  classical  translations  and  Italian  novelettes  of  the  age 
of  the  Renascence.  "  Theology  rules  there,"  said  Grotius  of  England 
only  two  years  after  Elizabeth's  death  ;  and  when  Casaubon,  the  last 
of  the  great  scholars  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  invited  to  England 
by  King  James,  he  found  both  King  and  people  indifferent  to  pure 
letters.  "  There  is  a  great  abundance  of  theologians  in  England,"  he 
says,  "all  point  their  studies  in  that  direction."  Even  a  country 
gentleman  like  Colonel  Hutchinson  felt  the  theological  impulse. 
"  As  soon  as  he  had  improved  his  natural  understanding  with  the 
acquisition  of  learning,  the  first  studies  he  exercised  himself  in  were 
the  principles  of  religion."  The  whole  nation  became,  in  fact,  a 
Church.  The  great  problems  of  life  and  death,  whose  questionings 
found  no  answer  in  the  higher  minds  of  Shakspere's  day,  pressed  for 
an  answer  not  only  from  noble  and  scholar  but  from  farmer  and  shop- 
keeper in  the  age  that  followed  him.  We  must  not,  indeed,  picture 
the  early  Puritan  as  a  gloomy  fanatic.  The  religious  movement  had 
not  as  yet  come  into  conflict  with  general  culture.  With  the  close  of  the 
Elizabethan  age,  indeed,  the  intellectual  freedom  which  had  marked 
it  faded  insensibly  away :  the  bold  philosophical  speculations  which 
Sidney  had  caught  from  Bruno,  and  which  had  brought  on  Marlowe 
and  Ralegh  the  charge  of  atheism,  died,  like  her  own  religious  indiffer- 
ence, with  the  Queen.  But  the  lighter  and  more  elegant  sides  of  the 
Elizabethan  culture  harmonized  well  enough  with  the  temper  of  the 
Puritan  gentleman.    The  figure  of  Colonel  Hutchinson,  one  of  the 


VII  I.  J 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


463 


Regicides,  stands  out  from  his  wife's  canvas  with  the  grace  and  tender- 
ness of  a  portrait  by  Vandyck.  She  dwells  on  the  personal  beauty  which 
distinguished  his  youth,  on  "his  teeth  even  and  white  as  the  purest  ivory," 
"  his  hair  of  brown,  very  thickset  in  his  youth,  softer  than  the  fine  t  silk, 
curling  with  loose  great  rings  at  the  ends."  Serious  as  was  his  temper 
in  graver  matters,  the  young  squire  of  Owthorpe  was  fond  of  hawking, 
and  piqued  himself  on  his  skill  in  dancing  and  fence.  His  artistic  taste 
showed  itself  in  a  critical  love  of  "  paintings,  sculpture,  and  all  liberal 
arts,"  as  well  as  in  the  pleasure  he  took  in  his  gardens,  "  in  the  im- 
provement of  his  grounds,  in  planting  groves  and  walks  and  forest 
trees."  If  he  was  "diligent  in  his  examination  of  the  Scriptures," 
"  he  had  a  great  love  for  music,  and  often  diverted  himself  with  a  viol, 
on  which  he  played  masterly."  We  miss,  indeed,  the  passion  of  the 
Elizabethan  time,  its  caprice,  its  largeness  of  feeling  and  sympathy,  its 
quick  pulse  of  delight ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  life  gained  in  moral 
grandeur,  in  a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  manhood,  in  orderliness  and 
equable  force.  The  temper  of  the  Puritan  gentleman  was  just,  noble, 
and  self-controlled.  The  larger  geniality  of  the  age  that  had  passed 
away  was  replaced  by  an  intense  tenderness  within  the  narrower  circle 
of  the  home.  ''  He  was  as  kind  a  father,"  says  Mrs.  Hutchinson  of  her 
husband,  "  as  dear  a  brother,  as  good  a  master,  as  faithful  a  friend  as 
the  world  had."  The  wilful  and  lawless  passion  of  the  Renascence 
made  way  for  a  manly  purity.  "  Neither  in  youth  nor  riper  years  could 
the  most  fair  or  enticing  woman  ever  draw  him  into  unnecessary 
familiarity  or  dalliance.  Wise  and  virtuous  women  he  loved,  and 
delighted  in  all  pure  and  holy  and  unblameable  conversation  with 
them,  but  so  as  never  to  exciie  scandal  or  temptation.  Scurrilous 
discourse  even  among  men  he  abhorred  ;  and  though  he  sometimes 
took  pleasure  in  wit  and  mirth,  yet  that  which  was  mixed  with  impurity 
he  never  could  endure."  To  the  Puritan  the  wilfulness  of  life,  in  which 
the  men  of  the  Renascence  had  revelled,  seemed  unworthy  of  life's 
character  and  end.  His  aim  was  to  attain  self-command,  to  be  master 
of  himself,  of  his  thought  and  speech  and  acts,  .v  certain  gravity  and 
reflectiveness  gave  its  tone  to  the  lightest  details  of  his  converse  with 
the  world  about  him.  His  temper,  quick  as  it  might  naturally  be,  was 
kept  under  strict  control.  In  his  discourse  he  was  ever  on  his  guard 
against  talkativeness  or  frivolity,  striving  to  be  deliberate  in  speech 
and  "ranking  the  words  beforehand."  His  life  was  orderly  and 
methodical,  sparing  of  diet  and  of  self-indulgence  ;  he  rose  early,  "he 
never  was  at  any  time  idle,  and  hated  to  see  any  one  else  so."  The 
new  sobriety  and  self-restraint  marked  itself  even  in  his  change  of 
dress.  The  gorgeous  colours  and  jewels  of  the  Renascence  dis- 
appeared. Colonel  Hutchinson  "left  off  very  early  the  wearing  of 
anything  that  was  costly,  yet  in  his  plainest  negligent  habit  appeared 
very  much  a  gentleman."     The  loss  of  colour  and  variety  in  costume 


464 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


reflected  no  doubt  a  certain  loss  of  colour  and  variety  in  life  itself ; 
but  it  was  a  loss  compensated  by  solid  gains.  Greatest  among  these, 
perhiips,  was  the  new  conception  of  social  equality.  Their  common 
calling,  their  common  brotherhood  in  Christ,  annihilated  in  the  mind 
of  the  Puritans  that  overpowering  sense  of  social  distinctions  which 
characterized  the  age  of  Elizabeth.  The  meanest  peasant  felt  himself 
ennobled  as  a  child  of  God.  The  proudest  noble  recognized  a  spiritual 
equality  in  the  poorest  "  saint."  The  great  social  revolution  of  the 
Civil  Wars  and  the  Protectorate  was  already  felt  in  the  demeanour  of 
gentlemen  like  Hutchinson.  "  He  had  a  loving  and  sweet  courtesy 
to  the  poorest,  and  would  often  employ  many  spare  hours  with  the 
commonest  soldiers  and  poorest  labourers."  "  He  never  disdained  the 
meanest  nor  flattered  the  greatest."  But  it  was  felt  even  more  in  the 
new  dignity  and  self-respect  with  which  the  consciousness  of  their 
"calling"  invested  the  classes  beneath  the  rank  of  the  gentry.  Take 
such  a  portrait  as  that  which  Nehemiah  Wallington,  a  turner  in  East- 
cheap,  has  left  us  of  a  London  housewife,  his  mother.  "  She  was  very 
loving,"  he  says,  "  and  obedient  to  her  parents,  loving  and  kind  to  he*- 
husband,  very  tender-hearted  to  her  children,  loving  all  that  werp 
godly,  much  misliking  the  wicked  and  profane.  She  was  a  patterr 
of  sobriety  unto  many,  very  seldom  was  seen  abroad  except  at  church ; 
when  others  recreated  themselves  at  holidays  and  other  times,  she 
would  take  her  needle-work  and  say,  *  here  is  my  recreation.*  .  .  . 
God  had  given  her  a  pregnant  wit  and  an  excellent  memory.  She 
was  very  ripe  and  perfect  in  all  stories  of  the  Bible,  likewise  in  all  the 
stories  of  the  Martyrs,  and  could  readily  turn  to  them  ;  she  was  also 
perfect  and  well  seen  in  the  English  Chronicles,  and  in  the  descents 
of  the  Kings  of  England.  She  lived  in  holy  wedlock  with  her  husband 
twenty  years,  wanting  but  four  days." 

The  strength  of  the  religious  movement  lay  rather  among  the 
middle  and  professional  classes  than  among  the  gentry  ;  and  it  is  in  a 
Puritan  of  this  class  that  we  find  the  fullest  and  noblest  expression  of 
the  new  influence  which  was  leavening  the  temper  of  the  time.  John 
Milton  is  not  only  the  highest,  but  the  completest  type  of  Puritanism. 
His  life  \6  absolutely  contemporaneous  with  his  cause.  He  was  bora 
when  it  began  to  exercise  a  direct  power  over  English  politics  and 
English  religion  ;  he  died  when  its  efl"ort  to  mould  them  into  its  own 
shape  was  over,  and  when  it  had  again  sunk  into  one  of  many 
influences  to  which  we  owe  our  English  character.  His  earlier  verse, 
the  pamphlets  of  his  riper  years,  the  epics  of  his  age,  mark  with  a 
singular  precision  the  three  great  stages  in  its  history.  His  youth 
shows  us  how  much  of  the  gaiety,  the  poetic  ease,  the  intellectual 
culture  of  the  Renascence  lingered  in  a  Puritan  home.  Scrivener  and 
"  precisian  "  as  his  father  was,  he  was  a  skilled  musician  ;  and  the  boy 
inherited  his  father's  skill   on  lute  and  organ.      One   of  the  finest 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


46s 


outbursts  in  the  scheme  of  education  which  he  put  forth  at  a  later 
time  is  a  passage  in  which  he  vindicates  the  province  of  music  as 
an  agent  in  moral  training.  His  home,  his  tutor,  his  school  were 
all  rigidly  Puritan  ;  but  there  was  nothing  narrow  or  illiberal  in  his 
early  training.  "  My  father,"  he  says,  "  destined  me  while  yet  a  Httle 
boy  to  the  study  of  humane  letters  ;  which  I  seized  with  such  eagerness 
that  from  the  twelfth  year  of  my  age  I  scarcely  ever  went  from  my 
lessons  to  bed  before  midnight."  But  to  the  Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew 
he  learnt  at  school,  the  scrivener  advised  him  to  add  Italian  and 
French.  Nor  were  English  letters  neglected.  Spenser  gave  the 
earliest  turn  to  his  poetic  genius.  In  spite  of  the  war  between  play- 
wright and  precisian,  a  Puritan  youth  could  still  in  Milton's  days  avow 
his  love  of  the  stage,  "  if  Jonson's  learned  sock  be  on,  or  sweetest 
Shakspere,  Fancy's  child,  warble  his  native  woodnotes  wild,"  and 
gather  from  the  "  masques  and  antique  pageantry  "  of  the  court-revel 
hints  for  his  own  "  Comus  "  and  "  Arcades."  Nor  does  any  shadow 
of  the  coming  struggle  with  the  Church  disturb  the  young  scholar's 
reverie,  as  he  wanders  beneath  "  the  high  embowed  roof,  with 
antique  pillars  massy  proof,  and  storied  windows  richly  dight,  casting 
a  dim  religious  light,"  or  as  he  hears  "  the  pealing  organ  blow  to  the 
full- voiced  choir  below,  in  service  high  and  anthem  clear."  His  enjoy- 
ment of  the  gaiety  of  life  stands  in  bright  contrast  with  the  gloom  and 
sternness  which  strife  and  persecution  fostered  in  the  later  Puritanism. 
In  spite  of  "  a  certain  reservedness  of  natural  disposition,"  which  shrank 
from  "  festivities  and  jests,  in  which  I  acknowledge  my  faculty  to  be 
very  slight,"  the  young  singer  could  still  enjoy  the  "jest  and  youthful 
jollity  "  of  the  world  around  him,  its  "  quips  and  cranks  and  wanton 
wiles  ; "  he  could  join  the  crew  of  Mirth,  and  look  pleasantly  on  at  the 
village  fair,  "  where  the  jolly  rebecks  sound  to  many  a  youth  and  many 
a  maid,  dancing  in  the  chequered  shade."  But  his  pleasures  were 
"  unreproved."  There  was  nothing  ascetic  in  his  look,  in  his  slender, 
vigorous  frame,  his  face  full  of  a  delicate  yet  serious  beauty,  the  rich 
brown  hair  which  clustered  over  his  brow  ;  and  the  words  we  have 
quoted  show  his  sensitive  enjoyment  of  all  that  was  beautiful.  But 
from  coarse  or  sensual  self-indulgence  the  young  Puritan  turned  with 
disgust :  "  A  certain  reservedness  of  nature,  an  honest  haughtiness  and 
self-esteem,  kept  me  still  above  those  low  descents  of  mind."  He 
drank  in  an  ideal  chivalry  from  Spenser,  but  his  religion  and  purity 
disdained  the  outer  pledge  on  which  chivalry  built  up  its  fabric  of 
honour.  "  Every  free  and  gentle  spirit,"  said  Milton,  "  without  that 
oath,  ought  to  be  born  a  knight."  It  was  with  this  temper  that  he 
passed  from  his  London  school,  St.  Paul's,  to  Christ's  College  at 
Cambridge,  and  it  was  this  temper  that  he  preserved  throughout  his 
University  career.  He  left  Cambridge,  as  he  said  afterwards,  "free 
from  all  reproach,  and  approved  by  all  honest  men,"  with  a  purpose  of 

H  H 


466 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


self-dedication  "to  that  same  lot,  however  mean  or  high,  towards 
which  time  leads  me,  and  the  will  of  Heaven." 

Even  in  the  still  calm  beauty  of  a  life  such  as  this,  we  catch  the 
sterner  tones  of  the  Puritan  temper.  The  very  height  of  its  aim,  the 
intensity  of  its  moral  concentration,  brought  with  them  a  loss  of  the 
genial  delight  in  all  that  was  human  which  distinguished  the  men  of 
the  Renascence.  "  If  ever  God  instilled  an  intense  love  of  moral 
beauty  into  the  mind  of  any  man,"  said  Milton,  "he  has  instilled  it 
into  mine."  "  Love  Virtue,"  closed  his  "  Comus,"  "  she  alone  is  free !" 
But  this  passionate  love  of  virtue  and  of  moral  beauty,  if  it  gave  strength 
to  human  conduct,  narrowed  human  sympathy  and  human  intelli- 
gence. Already  in  Milton  we  note  a  certain  "  reservedness  of  temper," 
a  contempt  for  "  the  false  estimates  of  the  vulgar,"  a  proud  retirement 
from  the  meaner  and  coarser  life  around  him.  Great  as  was  his  love 
for  Shakspere,  we  can  hardly  fancy  him  delighting  in  Falstaff.  In 
minds  of  a  less  cultured  order,  this  moral  tension  ended,  no  doubt, 
in  a  hard  unsocial  sternness  of  life.  The  ordinary  Puritan  "  loved  all 
that  were  godly,  much  misliking  the  wicked  and  profane."  His  bond 
to  other  men  was  not  the  sense  of  a  common  manhood,  but  the  re- 
cognition of  a  brotherhood  among  the  elect.  Without  the  pale  of  the 
saints  lay  a  world  which  was  hateful  to  them,  because  it  was  the  enemy 
of  their  God.  It  was  this  utter  isolation  from  the  "ungodly"  that 
explains  the  contrast  which  startles  us  between  the  inner  tenderness  of 
the  Puritans  and  the  ruthlessness  of  so  many  of  their  actions.  Crom- 
well, whose  son's  death  (in  his  own  words)  went  to  his  heart  "  like  a 
dagger,  indeed  it  did  ! "  and  who  rode  away  sad  and  wearied  from  the 
triumph  of  Marston  Moor,  burst  into  horse-play  as  he  signed  the  death- 
warrant  of  the  King.  A  temper  which  had  thus  lost  sympathy  with 
the  life  of  half  the  world  around  it  could  hardly  sympathize  with  the 
wiiolc  of  its  own  life.  Humour,  the  faculty  which  above  all  corrects 
exaggeration  and  extravagance,  died  away  before  the  new  stress  and 
strain  of  existence.  The  absolute  devotion  of  the  Puritan  to  a  Supreme 
Will  tended  more  and  more  to  rob  him  of  all  sense  of  measure  and 
proportion  in  common  matters.  Little  things  became  great  things  in 
the  glare  of  religious  zeal  ;  and  the  godly  man  learnt  to  shrink  from  a 
surplice,  or  a  mince-pie  at  Christmas,  as  he  shrank  from  impurity  or  a 
lie.  Life  became  hard,  rigid,  colourless,  as  it  became  intense.  The 
play,  the  geniality,  the  delight  of  the  Elizabethan  age  were  exchanged 
for  a  measured  sobriety,  seriousness,  and  self-restraint.  But  the  self- 
restraint  and  sobiiety  which  marked  the  Calvinist  limited  itself  wholly 
to  his  outer  life.  In  his  inner  soul  sense,  reason,  judgement,  were  too 
often  overborne  by  the  terrible  reality  of  invisible  things.  Our  first 
glimpse  of  Oliver  Cromwell  is  as  a  young  country  squire  and  farmer  in 
the  marsh  levels  around  Huntingdon  and  St.  Ives, buried  from  time  to 
time  in  a  deep  melancholy,  and  haunted  by  fancies  of  coming  death 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


467 


"  I  live  in  Meshac,"  he  writes  to  a  friend,  "  which  they  say  signifies 
Prolonging ;  in  Kedar,  which  signifies  Darkness ;  yet  the  Lord  forsaketh 
me  not."  The  vivid  sense  of  a  Divine  Purity  close  to  such  men  made 
the  life  of  common  men  seem  sin.  "  You  know  what  my  manner  of  life 
has  been,"  Cromwell  adds.  "  Oh,  I  lived  in  and  loved  darkness,  and 
hated  light.  I  hated  godliness."  Yet  his  worst  sin  was  probably 
nothing  more  than  an  enjoyment  of  the  natural  buoyancy  of  youth, 
and  a  want  of  the  deeper  earnestness  which  comes  with  riper  years. 
In  imaginative  tempers,  like  that  of  Bunyan,  the  struggle  took  a  more 
picturesque  form.  John  Bunyan  was  the  son  of  a  poor  tinker  at 
Elstow  in  Bedfordshire,  and  even  in  childhood  his  fancy  revelled  in 
terrible  visions  of  Heaven  and  Hell.  "  When  I  was  but  a  child  of 
nine  or  ten  years  old,"  he  tells  us,  "  these  things  did  so  distress  my 
soul,  that  then  in  the  midst  of  my  merry  sports  and  childish  vanities, 
amidst  my  vain  companions,  I  was  often  much  cast  down  and  afflicted 
in  my  mind  therewith  ;  yet  could  I  not  let  go  my  sins."  The  sins  he 
could  not  let  go  were  a  love  of  hockey  and  of  dancing  on  the  village 
green  ;  for  the  only  real  fault  which  his  bitter  self-accusation  dis- 
closes, that  of  a  habit  of  swearing,  was  put  an  end  to  at  once  and  for 
ever  by  a  rebuke  from  an  old  woman.  His  passion  for  bell-ringing 
clung  to  him  even  after  he  had  broken  from  it  as  a  "  vain  practice  ; " 
and  he  would  go  to  the  steeple-house  and  look  on,  till  the  thought  that 
a  bell  might  fall  and  crush  him  in  his  sins  drove  him  panic-stricken 
from  the  door.  A  sermon  against  dancing  and  games  drew  him  for  a 
time  from  these  indulgences  ;  but  the  temptation  again  overmastered 
his  resolve.  "  I  shook  the  sermon  out  of  my  mind,  and  to  my  old 
custom  of  sports  and  gaming  I  returned  with  great  delight.  But 
the  same  day,  as  I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  game  of  cat,  and  having 
struck  it  one  blow  from  the  hole,  just  as  I  was  about  to  strike  it  the 
second  time,  a  voice  did  suddenly  dart  from  heaven  into  my  soul, 
which  said,  '  Wilt  thou  leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  Heaven,  or  have  thy 
sins  and  go  to  Hell  ? '  At  this  I  was  put  in  an  exceeding  maze  ; 
wherefore,  leaving  my  cat  upon  the  ground,  I  looked  up  to  heaven  ; 
and  was  as  if  I  had  with  the  eyes  of  my  understanding  seen  the  Lord 
Jesus  looking  down  upon  me,  as  being  very  hotly  displeased  with  me, 
and  as  if  He  did  severely  threaten  me  with  some  grievous  punishment 
for  those  and  other  ungodly  practices." 

.  Such  was  Puritanism,  and  it  is  of  the  highest  importance  to  realize 
it  thus  in  itself,  in  its  greatness  and  its  littleness,  apart  from  the 
ecclesiastical  system  of  Presbyterianism  with  which  it  is  so  often 
confounded.  As  we  shall  see  in  the  course  of  our  story,  not  one  of 
the  leading  Puritans  of  the  Long  Parliament  was  a  Presbyterian, 
Pym  and  Hampden  had  no  sort  of  objection  to  Episcopacy,  and  the 
adoption  of  the  Presbyterian  system  was  only  forced  on  the  Puritan 
patriots  in  their  later  struggle  by  political  considerations.     But  the 


468 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


growth  of  the  movement,  which  thus  influenced  our  history  for  a  tinie, 
forms  one  of  the  most  curious  episodes  in  Elizabeth's  reign.  Her 
Church  policy  rested  on  the  Acts  of  Supremacy  and  of  Uniformity ; 
the  first  of  which  placed  all  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  and  legislative 
power  in  the  hands  of  the  State,  while  the  second  prescribed  a  course 
of  doctrine  and  discipline,  from  which  no  variation  was  legally  per- 
missible. For  the  nation  at  large  Elizabeth's  system  was  no  doubt  a 
wise  and  healthy  one.  Single-handed,  unsupported  by  any  of  the 
statesmen  or  divines  about  her,  the  Queen  forced  on  the  warring 
religions  a  sort  of  armed  truce.  The  main  principles  of  the  Refor- 
mation were  accepted,  but  the  zeal  of  the  ultra-reformers  was  held  at 
bay.  The  Bible  was  left  open,  private  discussion  was  unrestrained, 
but  the  warfare  of  pulpit  against  pulpit  was  silenced  by  the  licensing 
of  preachers.  Outer  conformity,  attendance  at  the  common  prayer, 
was  exacted  from  all ;  but  the  changes  in  ritual,  by  which  the  zealots 
of  Geneva  gave  prominence  to  the  radical  features  of  the  religious 
change  which  was  passing  over  the  country,  were  steadily  resisted. 
While  England  was  struggling  for  existence,  this  balanced  attitude 
of  the  Crown  reflected  faithfully  enough  the  balanced  attitude  of  the 
nation  ;  but  with  the  declaration  of  war  by  the  Papacy  in  the  Bull  of 
Deposition  the  movement  in  favour  of  a  more  pronounced  Protes- 
tantism gathered  a  new  strength.  Unhappily  the  Queen  clung 
obstinately  to  her  system  of  compromise,  weakened  and  broken  as  it 
was.  With  the  religious  enthusiasm  which  was  growing  up  around 
her  she  had  no  sympathy  whatever.  Her  passion  was  for  moderation, 
her  aim  was  simply  civil  order ;  and  both  order  and  moderation 
were  threatened  by  the  knot  of  clerical  bigots  who  gathered  under 
the  banner  of  Presbyterianism.  Of  these  Thomas  Cartwright  was 
the  chief.  He  had  studied  at  Geneva  ;  he  returned  with  a  fanatical 
faith  in  Calvinism,  and  in  the  system  of  Church  government 
which  Calvin  had  deviled  ;  and  as  Margaret  Professor  of  Divinity 
at  Cambridge  he  used  to  the  full  the  opportunities  which  his  chair 
gave  him  of  propagating  his  opinions.  No  leader  of  a  religious 
party  ever  deserved  less  of  after  sympathy  than  Cartwright.  He  was 
unquestionably  learned  and,  devout,  but  his  bigotry  was  that  of  a 
mediaeval  inquisitor.  The  relics  of  the  old  ritual,  the  cross  in  baptism, 
the  surplice,  the  giving  of  a  ring  in  marriage,  were  to  him  not  merely 
distasteful,  as  they  were  to  the  Puritans  at  large,  they  were  idolatrous 
and  the  mark  of  the  beast.  His  declamation  against  ceremonies  and 
superstition  however  had  little  weight  with  Elizabeth  or  her  Primates ; 
what  scared  them  was  his  reckless  advocacy  of  a  scheme  of  eccle- 
siastical government  which  placed  the  State  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
Church.  The  absolute  rule  of  bishops,  indeed,  he  denounced  as 
begotten  of  the  devil ;  but  the  absolute  rule  of  Presbyters  he  held  to 
be  established  by  the  word  of  God.     For  the  Church  modelled  after 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


469 


the  fashion  of  Geneva  he  claimed  an  authority  which  surpassed  the 
wildest  dreams  of  the  masters  of  the  Vatican.  All  spiritual  authority 
and  jurisdiction,  the  decreeing  of  doctrine,  the  ordering  of  ceremonies, 
lay  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  ministers  of  the  Church.  To  them 
belonged  the  supervision  of  public  morals.  In  an  ordered  arrange- 
ment of  classes  and  synods  these  Presbyters  were  to  govern  their 
flocks,  to  regulate  their  own  order,  to  decide  in  matters  of  faith,  to 
administer  "  discipline."  Their  weapon  was  excommunication,  and 
they  were  responsible  for  its  use  to  none  but  Christ.  The  province  of 
the  civil  ruler  was  simply  to  carry  out  the  decisions  of  the  Presbyters, 
"  to  see  their  decrees  executed  and  to  punish  the  contemners  of  them." 
The  spirit  of  Calvinistic  Presbyterianism  excluded  all  toleration  of 
practice  or  belief  Not  only  was  the  rule  of  ministers  to  be  established 
as  the  one  legal  form  of  Church  government,  but  all  other  forms, 
Episcopalian  and  Separatist,  were  to  be  ruthlessly  put  down.  For 
heresy  there  was  the  punishment  of  death.  Never  had  the  doctrine  of 
persecution  been  urged  with  such  a  blind  and  reckless  ferocity.  "  I 
deny,"  wrote  Cartwright,  "  that  upon  repentance  there  ought  to  follow 
any  pardon  of  death.  .  .  .  Heretics  ought  to  be  put  to  death  now. 
If  this  be  bloody  and  extreme,  I  am  content  to  be  so  counted  with  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

Opinions  such  as  these  might  wisely  have  been  left  to  the 
good  sense  of  the  people  itself.  Before  many  years  they  found  in 
fact  a  crushing  answer  in  the  "  Ecclesiastical  Polity "  of  Richard 
Hooker,  a  clergyman  who  had  been  Master  of  the  Temple,  but 
whose  distaste  for  the  controversies  of  its  pulpit  drove  him  from 
London  to  a  Wiltshire  vicarage  at  Boscombe,  which  he  exchanged 
at  a  later  time  for  the  parsonage  of  Bishopsbourne  among  the 
quiet  meadows  of  Kent.  The  largeness  of  temper  which  charac- 
terized all  the  nobler  minds  of  his  day,  the  philosophic  breadth 
which  is  seen  as  clearly  in  Shakspere  as  in  Bacon,  was  united  in 
Hooker  with  a  grandeur  and  stateliness  of  style,  whicli  raised  him  to 
the  highest  rank  among  English  prose  writers.  Divine  as  he  was, 
his  spirit  and  method  were  philosophical  rather  than  theological. 
Against  the  ecclesiastical  dogmatism  of  Presbyterian  or  Catholic  he 
set  the  authority  of  reason.  He  abandoned  the  narrow  ground  of 
Scriptural  argument  to  base  his  conclusions  on  the  general  principles 
of  moral  and  political  science,  on  the  eternal  obligations  of  natural 
law.  The  Puritan  system  rested  on  the  assumption  that  an  immutable 
rule  for  human  action  in  all  matters  relating  to  religion,  to  worship, 
and  to  the  discipline  and  constitution  of  the  Church,  was  laid  down, 
and  only  laid  down,  in  Scripture.  Hooker  urged  that  a  Divine  order 
exists,  not  in  written  revelation  only,  but  in  the  moral  relations,  the 
historical  developement,  and  the  social  and  political  institutions  of  men. 
He  claimed  for  human  reason  the  province  of  determining  the  laws  ol 


470 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


LCHAP. 


this  order ;  of  distinguishing  between  what  is  changeable  and  unchange- 
able in  them, between  what  is  eternal  and  what  is  temporary  in  the  Bible 
itself.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  push  on  to  the  field  of  theological  con- 
troversy where  men  like  Cartwright  were  fighting  the  battle  of  Presby- 
terianism,  to  show  that  no  form  of  Church  government  had  ever  been 
of  indispensable  obligation,  and  that  ritual  observances  had  in  all  ages 
been  left  to  the  discretion  of  churches,  and  determined  by  the  differ- 
ences of  times.  But  the  truth  on  which  Hooker  based  his  argument 
was  of  far  higher  value  than  his  argument  itself ;  and  the  acknow- 
ledgement of  a  divine  order  in  human  history,  of  a  divine  law  in 
human  reason,  which  found  expression  in  his  work,  harmonized  with 
the  noblest  instincts  of  the  Elizabethan  age.  Agamst  Presbyterianism, 
indeed,  the  appeal  was  hardly  needed.  Popular  as  the  Presbyterian 
system  became  in  Scotland,  it  never  took  any  general  hold  on 
England  ;  it  remained  to  the  last  a  clerical  rather  than  a  national 
creed,  and  even  in  the  moment  of  its  seeming  triumph  under  the 
Commonwealth  it  was  rejected  by  every  part  of  England  save 
London  and  Lancashire,  and  part  of  Derbyshire.  But  the  bold 
challenge  to  the  Government  which  was  delivered  by  Cartwright's 
party  in  a  daring  "  Admonition  to  the  Parliament,"  which  de- 
manded the  establishment  of  government  by  Presbyters,  raised  a 
panic  among  English  statesmen  and  prelates  which  cut  oflf  all  hopes 
of  a  quiet  appeal  to  reason.  It  is  probable  that,  but  for  th? 
storm  which  Cartwright  raised,  the  steady  growth  of  general  dis- 
content with  the  ceremonial  usages  he  denounced  would  have  brought 
about  their  abolition.  The  Parliament  of  1571  had  not  only  refused 
to  bind  the  clergy  to  subscription  to  three  articles  on  the  Supremacy, 
the  form  of  Church  government,  and  the  power  of  the  Church  to 
ordain  rites  and  ceremonies,  but  favoured  the  project  of  reforming  the 
Liturgy  by  the  omission  of  the  superstitious  practices.  But  with  the 
appearance  of  the  "  Admonition "  this  natural  progress  of  opinion 
abruptly  cea-ed.  The  moderate  statesmen  who  had  pressed  for  a 
change  in  ritual  withdrew  from  union  with  a  party  which  revived  the 
worst  pretensions  of  the  Papacy.  As  dangers  from  without  and  from 
within  thickened  round  the  Queen  the  growing  Puritanism  of  the 
clergy  stirred  her  wrath  above  measure,  and  she  met  the  growth  of 
"  nonconforming"  ministers  by  a  measure  which  forms  the  worst  blot 
on  her  reign. 

The  new  powers  which  were  conferred  in  1 583  on  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commission  converted  the  religious  truce  into  a  spiritual  despotism. 
From  being  a  temporary  board  which  represented  the  Koyal  Supremacy 
in  matters  ecclesiastical,  the  Commission  was  now  turned  into  a  per- 
manent body  wielding  the  almost  unlimited  powers  of  the  Crown.  All 
opinions  or  acts  contrary  to  the  Statutes  of  Supremacy  and  Uniformity 
fell  within  its  cognizance.     A  right  of  deprivation  placed  the  clergy  ai 


viii.l 


PURITAN  EJIGLAND. 


47« 


its  mercy.  It  had  power  to  alter  or  amend  the  statutes  of  colleges  or 
schools.  Not  only  heresy,  and  schism,  and  nonconformity,  but  incest 
or  aggravated  adultery  were  held  to  fall  within  its  scope  :  its  means  of 
enquiry  were  left  without  limit,  and  it  might  fine  or  imprison  at  its  will. 
By  the  mere  establishment  of  such  a  Court  half  the  work  of  the 
Reformation  was  undone.  The  large  number  of  civilians  on  the  board 
indeed  seemed  to  furnish  some  security  against  the  excess  of  ecclesi- 
astical tyranny.  Of  its  forty-four  commissioners,  however,  few  actually 
took  any  part  in  its  proceedings  ;  and  the  powers  of  the  Commission 
were  practically  left  in  the  hands  of  the  successive  Primates.  No 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  sincft  the  days  of  Augustine  had  wielded  an 
authority  so  vast,  so  utterly  despotic,  as  that  of  Whitgift  and  Bancroft 
and  Abbot  and  Laud.  The  most  terrible  feature  of  their  spiritual 
tyranny  was  its  wholly  personal  character.  The  old  symbols  of 
doctrine  were  gone,  and  the  lawyers  had  not  yet  stepped  in  to  protect 
the  clergy  by  defining  the  exact  limits  of  the  new.  The  result  was  that 
at  the  Commission-board  at  Lambeth  the  Primates  created  their  own 
tests  of  doctrine  with  an  utter  indifference  to  those  created  by  law.  In 
one  instance  Parker  deprived  a  vicar  of  his  benefice  for  a  denial  of  the 
verbal  inspiration  of  the  Bible.  Nor  did  the  successive  Archbishops 
care  greatly  if  the  test  was  a  varying  or  a  conflicting  one.  Whitgift 
strove  to  force  on  the  Church  the  Calvinistic  supralapsarianism  of  his 
Lambeth  Articles.  Bancroft,  who  followed  him,  was  as  earnest  in 
enforcing  his  anti-Calvinistic  dogma  of  the  Divine  right  of  the 
episcopate.  Abbot  had  no  mercy  for  Arminianism.  Laud  had  none  for 
its  opponents.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission, 
which  these  men  represented,  soon  stank  in  the  nostrils  of  the  English 
clergy.  Its  establishment  however  marked  the  adoption  of  a  more 
resolute  policy  on  the  part  of  the  Crown,  and  its  efforts  were  backed 
by  stern  measures  of  repression.  All  preaching  or  reading  in  private 
houses  was  forbidden  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  refusal  of  Parliament  to 
enforce  the  requirement  of  them  by  law,  subscription  to  the  Three 
Articles  was  exacted  from  every  member  of  the  clergy. 

For  the  moment  these  measures  were  crowned  with  success.  The 
movement  under  Cartwright  was  checked;  Cartwright  himself  was  driven 
from  his  Professorship  ;  and  an  outer  uniformity  of  worship  was  more 
and  more  brought  about  by  the  steady  pressure  of  the  Commission.  The 
old  liberty  which  had  been  allowed  in  London  and  the  other  Protestant 
parts  of  the  kingdom  was  no  longer  permitted  to  exist.  The  leading 
Puritan  clergy,  whose  nonconformity  had  hitherto  been  winked  at,  were 
called  upon  to  submit  to  the  surplice,  and  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross 
in  baptism.  The  remonstrances  of  the  country  gentry  availed  as  little 
as  the  protest  of  Lord  Burleigh  himself  to  protect  two  hundred  of  the 
best  ministers  from  being  driven  from  their  parsonages  on  a  refusal  to 
subscribe  to  the  Three  Articles.     But  the  persecution  only  gave  fresh 


472 


HISTORY  OF  TH5  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


life  and  popularity  to  the  doctrines  which  it  aimed  at  crushing,  by 
drawing  together  two  currents  of  opinion  which  were  in  themselves 
perfectly  distinct.  The  Presbyterian  platform  of  Church  discipline 
had  as  yet  been  embraced  by  the  clergy  only,  and  by  few  among  the 
clergy.  On  the  other  hand,  the  wish  of  the  Puritans  for  a  reform  in 
the  Liturgy,  the  dislike  of  "  superstitious  usages,**  of  the  us3  of  the 
surplice,  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  baptism,  the  gift  of  the  ring  in 
marriage,  the  posture  of  kneeling  at  the  Lord's  Supper,  was  shared  by 
a  large  number  of  the  clergy  and  laity  alike.  At  the  opening  of 
Elizabeth's  reign  almost  all  the  higher  Churchmen  save  Parker  were 
opposed  to  them,  and  a  motion  in  Convocation  for  their  abolition  was 
lost  but  by  a  single  vote.  The  temper  of  the  country  gentlemen  on 
this  subject  was  indicated  by  that  of  Parliament ;  and  it  was  well 
known  that  the  wisest  of  the  Queen's  Councillors,  Burleigh,  Walsing- 
ham,  and  Knollys,  were  at  one  in  this  matter  with  the  gentry.  If  their 
common  persecution  did  not  wholly  succeed  in  fusing  these  two  sections 
of  religious  opinion  into  one,  it  at  any  rate  gained  for  the  Presbyterians 
a  general  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  Puritans,  which  raised  them 
from  a  clerical  clique  into  a  popular  party.  Nor  were  the  consequences 
of  the  persecution  limited  to  the  strengthening  of  the  Presbyterians. 
The  "  Separatists"  who  were  beginning  to  withdraw  from  attendance 
at  public  worship  on  the  ground  that  the  very  existence  of  a  national 
Church  was  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God,  grew  quickly  from  a  few 
scattered  zealots  to  twenty  thousand  souls  Presbyterian  and  Puritan 
felt  as  bitter  an  abhorrence  as  Elizabeth  herself  of  the  "Brownists,"  as 
they  were  nicknamed  after  their  founder  Robert  Brown.  Parliament, 
Puritan  as  it  was,  passed  a  statute  against  them.  Brown  himself  was 
forced  to  fly  to  the  Netherlands,  and  of  his  followers  many  were 
driven  into  exile.  So  great  a  future  awaited  one  of  these  congre- 
gations that  we  may  pause  to  get  a  glimpse  of  "a  poor  people"  in 
Lincolnshire  and  the  neighbourhood,  who  "  being  enlightened  by 
the  Word  of  (iod,"  and  their  members  "  urged  with  the  yoke  of 
subscription,"  had  been  led  "  to  see  further."  They  rejected  cere- 
monies as  relics  of  idolatry,  the  rule  of  bishops  as  unscriptural^ 
and  joined  themselves,  "  as  the  Lord's  free  people,"  into  "  a  church 
estate  on  the  fellowship  of  the  Gospel."  Feeling  their  way  forward 
to  the  great  principle  of  liberty  of  conscience,  they  asserted  their 
Christian  right  "to  walk  in  all  the  ways  which  God  had  made 
known  or  should  make  known  to  them."  Their  meetings  or  "con- 
venticles "  soon  drew  down  the  heavy  hand  of  the  law,  and  the 
little  company  resolved  to  seek  a  refuge  in  other  lands  ;  but  their  first 
attempt  at  flight  was  prevented,  and  when  they  made  another,  their 
wives  and  children  were  seized  at  the  very  moment  of  entenng  the 
ship.  At  last,  however,  the  magistrates  gave  a  contemptuous  assent 
to  their  project  ;  they  were  in  fact  "glad  to  be  rid  of  them  at  any 


vni.;i 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


473 


price ; "  and  the  fugitives  found  shelter  at  Amsterdam,  from  whence 
some  of  them,  choosing  John  Robinson  as  their  minister,  took  refuge  in 
1609  at  Leyden.  "  They  knew  they  were  pilgrims  and  looked  not  much 
on  these  things,  but  lifted  up  their  eyes  to  Heaven,  their  dearest  country, 
and  quieted  their  spirits."  Among  this  little  band  of  exiles  were 
those  who  were  to  become  famous  at  a  later  time  as  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  of  the  Mayflower. 

It  was  easy  to  be  "  rid  "  of  the  Brownists  ;  but  the  poHtical  danger 
of  the  course  on  which  the  Crown  had  entered  was  seen  in  the 
rise  of  a  spirit  of  vigorous  opposition,  such  as  had  not  made  its 
appearance  since  the  accession  of  the  Tudors.  The  growing  power 
of  public  opinion  received  a  striking  recognition  in  the  struggle  which 
bears  the  name  of  the  "  Martin  Marprelate  controversy."  The 
Puritans  had  from  the  first  appealed  by  their  pamphlets  from  the 
Crown  to  the  people,  and  Whitgift  bore  witness  to  their  influence  on 
opinion  by  his  efforts  to  gag  the  Press.  The  regulations  of  the  Star- 
Chamber  for  this  purpose  are  memorable  as  the  first  step  in  the  long 
struggle  of  government  after  government  to  check  the  liberty  ol 
printing.  The  irregular  censorship  which  had  long  existed  was  now 
finally  organized.  Printing  was  restricted  to  London  and  the  two  Uni- 
versities, the  number  of  printers  reduced,  and  all  candidates  for  licence 
to  print  were  placed  under  the  supervision  of  the  Company  of  Stationers. 
Every  publication  too,  great  or  small,  had  to  receive  the  approbation 
of  the  Primate  or  the  Bishop  of  London.  The  first  result  of  this 
system  of  repression  was  the  appearance,  in  the  very  year  of  the 
Armada,  of  a  series  of  anonymous  pamphlets  bearing  the  significant 
name  of  "  Martin  Marprelate,"  and  issued  from  a  secret  press  which 
found  refuge  from  the  royal  pursuivants  in  the  country-houses  of  the 
gentry.  The  press  was  at  last  seized  ;  and  the  suspected  authors  of 
these  scurrilous  libels,  Penry,  a  young  Welshman,  and  a  minister 
named  Udall,  died,  the  one  in  prison,  the  other  on  the  scaffold.  But 
the  virulence  and  boldness  of  their  language  produced  a  powerful 
effect,  for  it  was  impossible  under  the  system  of  Elizabeth  to  "  mar  " 
the  bishops  without  attacking  the  Crown  ;  and  a  new  age  of  political 
liberty  was  felt  to  be  at  hand  when  Martin  Marprelate  forced  the 
political  and  ecclesiastical  measures  of  the  Government  into  the  arena 
of  public  discussion.  The  suppression,  indeed,  of  these  pamphlets  was 
far  from  damping  the  courage  of  the  Presbyterians.  Cartwright,  who 
had  been  appointed  by  Lord  Leicester  to  the  mastership  of  an  hospital 
at  Warwick,  was  bold  enough  to  organize  his  system  of  Church  dis- 
cipline among  the  clergy  of  that  county  and  of  Northamptonshire. 
His  example  was  widely  followed  ;  and  the  general  gatherings  of  the 
whole  ministerial  body  of  the  clergy,  and  the  smaller  assemblies  for 
each  diocese  or  shire,  which  in  the  Presbyterian  scheme  bore  the  name 
of  Synods  and  Classes,  began  to  be  held  in  many  parts  of  England  for 


474 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  purposes  of  debate  and  consultation.  The  new  organization  wa« 
quickly  suppressed  indeed,  but  Cartwright  was  saved  from  the  banish- 
ment which  Whitgift  demanded  by  a  promise  of  submission  ;  his  influ- 
ence steadily  increased  ;  and  the  struggle,  transferred  to  the  highei 
sphere  of  the  Parliament,  widened  into  the  great  contest  for  liberty 
under  James,  and  the  Civil  War  under  his  successor. 


Section  II.— The  First  of  the  Stuarts.    1604—1623. 

[Aulhorities. — Mr.  Gardiner's  '*  History  of  England  from  the  Accession  o* 
James  I."  is  invaluable  f  )r  its  fairness  and  good  sense,  and  for  the  fresh  infor- 
mation collected  in  it.  We  have  Camden's  "  Annals  of  James  I.,"  Goodman's 
"Court  of  James  I.,"  Weldon's  "  Secret  History  of  the  Court  of  James  I.," 
Roger  Coke's  "Detection,"  the  correspondence  in  the  "Cabala,"  the  letter? 
in  the  "Court  and  Times  of  James  I.,"  the  documents  in  Winwood's  "  Me- 
morials of  State,"  and  the  reported  proceedings  of  the  last  two  Parliaments. 
The  Camden  Society  has  published  the  correspondence  of  James  with  Cecil, 
and  Walter  V'onge's  "Diary."  The  letters  and  works  of  Bacon  (fully  edited 
by  Mr.  Spedding)  are  necessary  f  )r  a  knowledge  of  the  period.  Hacket  s  "Life 
of  Williams,"  and  Harrington's  "  Nugae  Antiquae  "  throw  valuable  side-light  o« 
the  politics  of  the  time.  But  the  Stuart  system  can  only  be  fairly  studied  in 
the  State-papers,  calendars  of  which  are  being  published  by  the  Master  of  the 
Rolls.]    [The  State  Papers  are  now  carried  on  to  1644. — Ed.] 

To  judge  fairly  the  attitude  and  policy  of  the  English  Puritans,  tha» 
is  of  three-fourths  of  the  Protestants  of  England,  at  this  moment,  we 
must  cursorily  review  the  fortunes  of  Protestantism  during  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth.  At  its  opening  the  success  of  the  Reformation  seemed 
almost  everywhere  secure.  Already  triumphant  in  the  north  of  Ger- 
many at  the  peace  of  Augsburg,  it  was  fast  advancing  to  the  conquest 
of  the  south.  The  nobles  of  Austria  as  well  as  the  nobles  and  the  towns 
of  Bavaria  were  forsaking  the  older  religion.  A  Venetian  ambassador 
estimated  the  German  Catholics  at  little  more  than  one-tenth  of  the 
whole  population  of  Germany.  The  new  faith  was  firmly  established 
in  Scandinavia.  Eastward  the  nobles  of  Hungary  and  Poland  became 
Protestants  in  a  mass.  In  the  west  France  was  yielding  more  and 
more  to  heresy.  Scotland  flung  off  Catholicism  under  Mary,  and 
England  veered  round  again  to  Protestantism  under  Elizabeth.  Cnly 
where  the  dead  hand  of  Spain  lay  heavy,  in  Castille,  in  Aragon,  or  in 
Italy,  was  the  Reformation  thoroughly  crushed  out ;  and  even  the  dead 
hand  of  Spain  failed  to  crush  heresy  in  the  Low  Countries.  Hut  at  the 
very  instant  of  its  seeming  triumph,  the  advance  of  the  new  religion 
was  suddenly  arrested.  The  first  twenty  years  of  Elizabeth's  reign 
were  a  j)criod  of  suspense.  The  progress  of  Protestantism  gradually 
ceased.  It  wasted  its  strength  in  theological  controversies  and  per- 
secutions, and  in  the  bitter  and  venomous  discussions  between  the 
Churches  which  followed   Luther  and  the  Churches  which  followed 


viii.l 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


475 


Zwingli  or  Calvin.  It  was  degraded  and  weakened  by  the  prostitution 
of  the  Reformation  to  poHtical  ends,  by  the  greed  and  worthlessness 
of  the  German  princes  who  espoused  its  cause,  by  the  factious  law- 
lessness of  the  nobles  in  Poland,  and  of  the  Huguenots  in  France. 
Meanwhile  the  Papacy  succeeded  in  rallying  the  Cathohc  world  round 
the  Council  of  Trent.  The  Roman  Church,  enfeebled  and  corrupted 
by  the  triumph  of  ages,  Tel^at  last  the  uses  of  adversity.  Her  faith 
was  settled  and  defined.  The  Papacy  was  owned  afresh  as  the  centre 
of  Catholic  union.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  Protestants  roused  a  counter 
enthusiasm  among  their  opponents  ;  new  religious  orders  rose  to 
meet  the  wants  of  the  day  ;  the  Capuchins  became  the  preachers  of 
Catholicism,  the  Jesuits  became  not  only  its  preacher^,  but  its  directors, 
its  schoolmasters,  its  missionaries,  its  diplomatists.  Their  organization, 
their  blind  obedience,  their  real  ability,  their  fanatical  zeal  galvanized 
the  pulpit,  the  school,  the  confessional  into  a  new  life.  If  the  Protest- 
ants had  enjoyed  the  profitable  monopoly  of  martyrdom  at  the  opening 
of  the  century,  the  Catholics  won  a  fair  share  of  it  as  soon  as  the 
disciples  of  Loyola  came  to  the  front.  The  tracts  which  pictured  the 
tortures  of  Campian  and  Southwell  roused  much  the  same  fire  at 
Toledo  or  Vienna  as  the  pages  of  Foxe  had  roused  in  England.  Even 
learning  came  to  the  aid  of  the  older  faith.  Bellarmine,  the  greatest 
of  controversialists  at  this  time,  Baronius,  the  most  erudite  of  Church 
historians,  were  both  Catholics.  With  a  growing  inequahty  of  strength 
such  as  this,  we  can  hardly  wonder  that  the  tide  was  seen  at  last  to  turn. 
A  few  years  before  the  fight  with  the  Armada  Catholicism  began  defi- 
nitely to  win  ground.  Southern  Germany,  where  Bavaria  was  restored  to 
Rome,  and  where  the  Austrian  House  so  long  lukewarm  in  the  faith  at 
last  became  zealots  in  its  defence,  was  re  Catholicized.  The  success  of 
Socinianism  in  Poland  severed  that  kingdom  from  any  real  communion 
with  the  general  body  of  the  Protestant  Churches  ;  and  these  again 
were  more  and  more  divided  into  two  warring  camps  by  the  contro- 
versies about  the  Sacra;nent  and  Free  Will.  Everywhere  the  Jesuits 
won  converts,  and  their  peaceful  victories  were  soon  backed  by  the 
arms  of  Spain.  In  the  fierce  struggle  which  followed,  Philip  was  un- 
doubtedly worsted.  England  was  saved  by  its  defeat  of  the  Armada  ; 
the  United  Provinces  of  the  Netherlands  rose  into  a  great  Protestant 
power  through  their  own  dogged  heroism  and  the  genius  of  William 
the  Silent.  France  was  rescued  from  the  grasp  of  the  Catholic  League, 
at  a  moment  when  all  hope  seemed  gone,  by  the  unconquerable  energy 
of  Henry  of  Navarre.  But  even  in  its  defeat  Catholicism  gained 
ground.  In  the  Low  Countries,  the  Reformation  was  driven  from  the 
Walloon  provinces,  from  Brabant,  and  from  Flanders.  In  France 
Henry  the  Fourth  found  himself  obliged  to  purchase  Paris  by  a  mass  ; 
and  the  conversion  of  the  King  was  followed  by  a  quiet  breaking  up 
of  the  Huguenot  party.     Nobles  and  scholars  alike  forsook  Protest- 


476 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[ciIAf 


antism  ;  and  though  the  Reformation  remained  dominant  south  of  the 
Loire,  it  lost  all  hope  of  winning  France  as  a  whole  to  its  side. 

At  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  therefore,  the  temper  of  every  earnest  Pro- 
testant, whether  in  England  or  abroad,  was  that  of  a  man  who,  after 
cherishing  the  hope  of  a  crowning  victory,  is  forced  to  look  on  at  a 
crushing  and  irremediable  defeat.  The  dream  of  a  Reformation  of  the 
universal  Church  was  utterly  at  an  end.  The  borders  of  Protestantism 
were  narrowing  every  day,  nor  was  there  a  sign  that  the  triumph  of  the 
Papacy  was  arrested.  As  hope  aftjr  hope  died  into  defeat  and  disaster, 
the  mood  of  the  Puritan  grew  sterner  and  more  intolerant.  What  inten- 
sified the  dread  was  a  sense  of  defection  and  uncertainty  within  the  pale 
of  the  Church  of  England  itself.  As  a  new  Christendom  fairly  emerged 
from  the  troubled  waters,  the  Renascence  again  made  its  influence  felt. 
Its  voice  was  heard  above  all  in  the  work  of  Hooker,  and  the  appeal 
to  reason  and  to  humanity  which  there  found  expression  coloured 
through  its  results  the  after  history  of  the  English  Church.  On  the  one 
hand  the  historical  feeling  showed  itself  in  a  longing  to  ally  the  religion 
of  the  present  with  the  religion  of  ihe  past,  to  claim  part  in  the  great 
heritage  of  Catholic  tradition.  Men  like  George  Herbert  started  back 
from  the  bare,  mtense  spiritualism  of  the  Puritan  to  find  nourishment  for 
devotion  in  the  outer  associations  which  the  piety  of  ages  had  gr()U{>ed 
around  it,  in  holy  places  and  holy  things,  in  the  stillness  of  church  and 
altar,  in  the  aweful  mystery  of  sacraments.  Men  like  Laud,  unable  to 
find  standing  ground  in  the  purely  personal  relation  between  man  and 
God  which  formed  the  basis  of  Calvinism,  fell  back  on  the  conscious- 
ness of  a  living  Christendom,  which,  torn  and  rent  as  it  seemed,  was 
soon  to  resume  its  ancient  unity.  On  the  other  hand,  the  appeal  which 
Hooker  addressed  to  reason  produced  a  school  of  philosophical 
thinkers  whose  timid  upgrowth  was  almost  lost  in  the  clash  of  warring 
creeds  about  them,  but  who  were  destined— as  the  Latitudinarians  of 
later  days—  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  religious  thought.  .'  s  yet 
however  this  rationalizing  movement  limited  itself  to  the  work  of 
moderating  and  reconciling,  to  recognizing  with  Calixtus  the  pettiness 
of  the  points  of  difference  which  parted  Christendom,  and  the  great- 
ness of  its  points  of  agreement,  or  to  revolting  with  Arminius  from  the 
more  extreme  tenets  of  Calvin  and  Calvin's  followers.  No  men  could 
be  more  opposed  in  their  tendencies  to  one  another  than  the  later 
High  Churchmen,  such  as  Laud,  and  the  later  Latitudinarians, such  as 
Hales.  But  to  the  ordinary  English  Protestant  both  Latitudinarian 
and  High  Churchman  were  equally  hateful.  To  him  the  struggle  with 
the  I'apacy  was  not  one  for  compromise  or  comprehension.  It  was  a 
struggle  between  light  and  darkness,  between  life  and  death.  No 
innovation  in  faith  or  worship  was  of  small  account,  if  it  tended  in  the 
direction  of  Rome.  Ceremonies,  which  in  an  hour  of  triumph  might 
have  been  allowed  as  solaces  to  weak  brethren,  he  looked  on  as  act* 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


477 


Ipf  treason  in  this  hour  of  defeat.  The  peril  was  too  great  to  admit  of 
tolerance  or  moderation.  Now  that  falsehood  was  gaining  ground, 
the  only  security  for  truth  was  to  draw  a  hard  and  fast  line  between 
truth  and  falsehood.  There  was  as  yet  indeed  no  general  demand  for 
any  change  in  the  form  of  Church  government,  or  of  its  relation  to  the 
State,  but  for  some  change  in  the  outer  ritual  of  worship  which  should 
correspond  to  the  advance  which  had  been  made  to  a  more  pronounced 
Protestantism.  We  see  the  Puritan  temper  in  the  Millenary  Petition 
(as  it  was  called),  which  was  presented  to  James  the  First  on  his 
accession  by  some  eight  hiindred  clergymen,  about  a  tenth  of  the 
whole  number  in  his  realm.  It  asked  for  no  change  in  the  govern- 
ment or  organization  of  the  Church,  but  for  a  reform  of  its  courts,  the 
removal  of  superstitious  usages  from  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  the 
disuse  of  lessons  from  the  apocryphal  books  of  Scripture,  a  more 
rigorous  observance  of  Sundays,  and  the  provision  and  training  of 
preaching  ministers.  Even  statesmen  who  had  little  sympathy  with 
the  religious  spirit  about  them  pleaded  for  the  purchase  of  religious 
and  national  union  by  ecclesiastical  reforms.  "  Why,"  asked  Bacon, 
"  should  the  civil  state  be  purged  and  restored  by  good  and  wholesome 
laws  made  every  three  years  in  Parliament  assembled,  devising  reme- 


siastical  state  still  continue  upon  the  dregs  of  time,  and  receive  no 
alteration  t'-sese  forty-five  years  or  more  ?"  A  general  expectation,  in 
fact,  prevailed  that,  now  the  Queen's  opposition  was  removed,  some- 
thing would  be  done.  But,  different  as  his  theological  temper  was 
from  the  purely  secular  temper  of  Elizabeth,  her  successor  was  equally 
resolute  against  all  changes  in  Church  matters. 

No  sovereign  could  have  jarred  against  the  conception  of  an  English 
ruler  which  had  grown  up  under  Plantagenet  or  Tudor  more  utterly 
than  James  the  First.  His  big  head,  his  slobbering  tongue,  his  quilted 
clothes,  his  rickety  legs,  stood  out  in  as  grotesque  a  contrast  with 
all  that  men  recalled  of  Henry  or  Elizabeth  as  his  gabble  and  rhodo- 
montade,  his  want  of  personal  dignity,  his  buffoonery,  his  coarse- 
ness of  speech,  his  pedantry,  his  contemptible  cowardice.  Under  this 
ridiculous  exterior  however  lay  a  man  of  much  natural  ability,  a  ripe 
scholar,  with  a  considerable  fund  of  shrewdness,  of  mother-wit,  and 
ready  repartee-  His  canny  humour  lights  up  the  political  and  theological 
controversies  of  the  time  with  quaint  incisive  phrases,  with  puns  and 
epigrams  and  touches  of  irony,  which  still  retain  their  savour.  His 
reading,  especially  in  theological  matters,  was  extensive  ;  and  he  was 
a  voluminous  author  on  subjects  which  ranged  from  predestination  to 
tobacco.  But  his  shrewdness  and  learning  only  left  him,  in  the  phrase 
of  Henry  the  Fourth,  "  the  wisest  fool  in  Christendom."  He  had  the 
temper  of  a  pedant,  a  pedant's  conceit,  a  pedant's  love  of  theories,  and  a 
pedants  inability  to  bring  his  theories  into  any  relation  with  actual  facts. 


478 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


All  might  have  gone  well  had  he  confined  himself  to  speculations  about 
witchcraft,  about  predestination,  about  the  noxiousness  of  smoking. 
Unhappily  for  England  and  for  his  successor,  he  clung  yet  more 
passionately  to  theories  of  government  which  contained  within  them 
the  seeds  of  a  death-struggle  between  his  people  and  the  Crown.  Even 
before  his  accession  to  the  English  throne,  he  had  formulated  his 
theory  of  rule  in  a  work  on  "  The  True  Law  of  Free  Monarchy  ; "  and 
announced  that,  "although  a  good  King  will  frame  his  actions  to  be 
according  to  law,  yet  he  is  not  bound  thereto,  but  of  his  own  will  and 
for  example-giving  to  his  subjects."  With  the  Tudor  statesmen  who 
used  the  phra3e,  "  an  absolute  King,"  or  "an  absolute  monarchy," 
meant  a  sovereign  ot-  rule  complete  in  themselves,  and  independent  of 
all  foreign  or  Papal  interference.  James  chose  to  regard  the  words  as 
implying  the  monarch's  freedom  from  all  control  by  law,  or  from 
responsibility  to  anything  but  his  own  royal  will.  The  King's  theory 
however  was  made  a  system  of  government ;  it  was  soon,  as  the 
Divine  Right  of  Kings,  to  become  a  doctrine  which  bishops  preached 
from  the  pulpit,  and  for  which  brave  men  laid  their  heads  on  the  block. 
The  Church  was  quick  to  adopt  its  sovereign's  discovery.  Convocation 
in  its  book  of  Canons  denounced  as  a  fatal  error  the  assertion  that 
"all  civil  power,  jurisdiction, and  authority  were  first  derived  from  the 
people  and  disordered  multitude,  or  either  is  originally  still  in  them, 
or  else  is  deduced  by  their  consent  naturally  from  them  ;  and  is  not 
God's  ordinance  originally  descending  from  Him  and  depending  upon 
Him."  In  strict  accordance  with  James's  theory,  these  doctors  declared 
sovereignty  in  its  origin  to  be  the  prerogative  of  birthright,  and 
inculcated  passive  obedience  to  the  monarch  as  a  religious  obligation. 
Cowell,  a  civilian,  followed  up  the  discoveries  of  Convocation  by  an 
announceiTient  that  "  the  King  is  above  the  law  by  his  absolute  power," 
and  that  "  notwithstanding  his  oath  he  may  alter  and  suspend  any 
particular  law  that  seemeth  hurtful  to  the  public  estate"  The  book 
was  suppressed  on  the  remonstrance  of  the  House  of  Commons,  but 
the  party  of  passive  obedience  grew  fast.  A  few  years  before  the  death 
of  Ja  nes,  the  University  of  Oxford  decreed  solemnly  that  **  it  was  in 
no  case  lawful  for  subjects  to  make  use  of  force  against  their  princes, 
or  to  appear  offensively  or  defensively  in  the  field  against  them." 
The  King's  "  arrogant  speeches,"  if  they  roused  resentment  in  the 
Parliaments  to  which  they  were  addressed,  created  by  sheer  force  of 
repetition  a  certain  belief  in  the  arbitrary  power  they  challenged  for 
the  Crown.  We  may  give  one  instance  of  their  tone  from  a  speech 
delivered  in  the  Star-Chamber.  "As  it  is  atheism  and  blasphemy  to 
dispute  what  God  can  do,"  said  James,  "so  it  is  presumption  and  a 
high  contempt  in  a  subject  to  dispute  what  a  King  can  do,  or  to  say 
that  a  King  cannot  do  this  or  that."  "  If  the  practice  should  follow  the 
positions,"  once  commented  a  thoughtful  observer  on  words  such  as 


viri.  ] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


47*» 


these,  "  we  are  not  likely  to  leave  to  our  successors  that  freedom  we 
received  from  our  forefathers." 

It  is  necessary  to  weigh  throughout  the  course  of  James's  reign  this 
aggressive  attitude  of  the  Crown,  if  we  would  rightly  judge  what  seems 
at  first  sight  to  be  an  aggressive  tone  in  some  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
Parliaments.  With  new  claims  of  power  such  as  these  before  them, 
to  have  stood  still  would  have  been  ruin.  The  claim,  too,  was  one 
which  jarred  against  all  that  was  noblest  in  the  temper  of  the  time. 
Men  were  everywhere  reaching  forward  to  the  conception  of  law. 
Bacon  sought  for  law  in  material  nature  ;  Hooker  asserted  the  rule  of 
law  over  the  spiritual  world.  The  temper  of  the  Puritan  was  eminently 
a  temper  of  law.  The  diligence  with  which  he  searched  the  Scriptures 
sprang  from  his  earnestness  to  discover  a  Divine  Will  which  in  all 
things,  great  or  small,  he  might  implicitly  obey.  But  this  implicit 
obedience  was  reserved  for  the  Divine  Will  alone  ;  for  human  ordin 
ances  derived  their  strength  only  from  their  correspondence  with  the 
revealed  law  of  God.  The  Puritan  was  bound  by  his  very  religion  to 
examine  every  claim  made  on  his  civil  and  spiritual  obedience  by  the 
powers  that  be  ;  and  to  own  or  reject  the  claim,  as  it  accorded  with 
the  higher  duty  which  he  owed  to  God.  "  In  matters  of  faith,"  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  tells  us  of  her  husband,  "  his  reason  always  submitted  to 
the  Word  of  God  ;  but  in  all  other  things  the  greatest  names  in  the 
world  would  not  lead  him  without  reason."  It  was  plain  that  an  im- 
passable gulf  parted  such  a  temper  as  this  from  the  temper  of  unques- 
tioning devotion  to  the  Crown  which  James  demanded  It  was  a 
temper  not  only  legal,  but  even  pedantic  in  its  legality,  intolerant  from 
its  very  sense  of  a  moral  order  and  law  of  the  lawlessness  and  disorder 
of  a  personal  tyranny  ;  a  temper  of  criticism,  of  judgement,  and,  if 
need  be,  of  stubborn  and  unconquerable  resistance  ;  of  a  resistance 
which  sprang,  not  from  the  disdain  of  authority,  but  from  the  Puritan's 
devotion  to  an  authority  higher  than  that  of  kings.  But  if  the  theory 
of  a  Divine  Right  of  Kings  was  certain  to  rouse  against  it  all  the  nobler 
energies  of  Puritanism,  there  was  something  which  roused  its  nobler 
and  its  pettier  instincts  of  resistance  alike  in  the  place  accorded 
by  James  to  Bishops.  Elizabeth's  conception  of  .her  ecclesiastical 
Supremacy  had  been  a  sore  stumbling-block  to  her  subjects,  but  Eliza- 
beth at  least  regarded  the  Supremacy  simply  as  a  branch  of  her 
ordinary  prerogative.  The  theory  of  James,  however,  was  as  different 
from  that  of  Elizabeth,  as  his  view  of  kingship  was  different  from 
hers.  It  was  the  outcome  of  the  bitter  years  of  humiliation  which  he 
had  endured  in  Scotland  in  his  struggle  with  Presbyterianism.  The 
Scotch  presbyters  had  insulted  and  frightened  him  in  the  early  days  of 
his  reign,  and  he  chose  to  confound  Puritanism  with  Presbyterianism. 
No  prejudice,  however,  was  really  required  to  suggest  his  course.  In 
itself  H  was  logical,  and  consistent  with  the  premisses  from  which  it 


48o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


started.  If  theologically  his  opinions  were  Calvinistic,  in  the  ecclesias- 
tical fabric  of  Calvinism,  in  its  organization  of  the  Church,  in  its  annual 
assemblies,  in  its  public  discussion  and  criticism  of  acts  of  government 
through  the  pulpit,  he  saw  an  organized  democracy  which  threatened 
his  crown.  The  new  force  which  had  overthrown  episcopacy  in  Scot- 
land, was  a  force  which  might  ovenhrovir  the  monarchy  itself.  It  was 
the  people  which  in  its  religious  or  its  political  guise  was  the  assailant  of 
both.  And  as  their  foe  was  the  same,  so  James  argued  with  the  shrewd 
short-sightedness  of  his  race,  their  cause  was  the  same.  "  No  bishop,** 
ran  his  famous  adage,  "no  King!"  Hopes  of  ecclesiastical  change 
found  no  echo  in  a  King  who,  among  all  the  charms  that  England 
presented  him,  saw  none  so  attractive  as  its  ordered  and  obedient 
Church,  its  synods  that  met  at  the  royal  will,  its  courts  that  carried 
out  the  royal  ordinances,  its  bishops  that  held  themselves  to  be  royal 
officers.  If  he  accepted  the  Millenary  Petition,  and  summoned  a  con- 
ference of  prelates  and  Puritan  divines  at  Hamp'.on  Court,  he  showed 
no  purpose  of  discussing  the  grievances  alleged.  He  revelled  in  the 
opportunity  for  a  display  of  his  theological  reading ;  but  he  viewed 
the  Puritan  demands  in  a  purely  political  light.  The  bishops  declared 
that  the  insults  he  showered  on  their  opponents  were  dictated  by  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  Puritans  still  ventured  to  dispute  his  infallibility. 
James  broke  up  the  conference  with  a  threat  which  revealed  the  policy 
of  the  Crown.  "  I  will  make  them  conform,"  he  said  of  the  remon- 
strants, "  or  I  will  harry  them  out  of  the  Lind." 

It  is  only  by  thoroughly  realizing  the  temper  of  the  nation  on  re- 
ligious and  civil  subjects,  and  the  temper  of  the  King,  that  we  can 
understand  the  long  Parliamentary  conflict  which  occupied  the  whole 
of  James's  reign.  But  to  make  its  details  intelligible  we  must  briefly 
review  the  relations  between  the  two  Houses  and  the  Crown.  The 
wary  prescience  of  Wolsey  had  seen  in  Parliament,  even  in  its 
degradation  under  the  Tudors,  the  memorial  of  an  older  freedom, 
and  a  centre  of  national  resistance  to  the  new  despotism  which  Henry 
was  establishing,  should  the  nation  ever  rouse  itself  to  resist.  Never 
perhaps  was  English  liberty  in  such  deadly  peril  as  when  Wolsey 
resolved  on  the  practical  suppression  of  the  two  Houses.  But  the 
bolder  genius  of  Cromwell  set  aside  the  traditions  of  the  New 
Monarchy.  His  confidence  in  the  power  of  the  Crown  revived  the 
Parli.imcnt  as  an  easy  and  manageable  instrument  of  tyranny.  The 
old  forms  of  constitutional  freedom  were  turned  to  the  profit  of  the 
royal  despotism,  and  a  revolution  which  for  the  moment  left  England 
absolutely  at  Henry's  feet  was  wrought  out  by  a  series  of  parliamentary 
statutes.  Throughout  Henry's  reign  Cromwell's  confidence  was  justi- 
fied by  the  spirit  of  si  ivish  submission  which  pervaded  the  Houses 
But  the  effect  of  the  rclijjious  change  for  which  his  measures  made 
room  began  to  be  felt  during  the  minority  of  Edward  the  Sixth  ;  and 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


481 


the  debates  and  divisions  on  the  religious  reaction  which  Mary  pressed 
on  the  Parliament  were  many  and  violent.  A  great  step  forward  was 
marked  by  the  effort  of  the  Crown  to  neutralize  by  "  management "  an 
opposition  which  it  could  no  longer  overawe.  The  Parliaments  were 
packed  with  nominees  of  the  Crown.  Twenty-two  new  boroughs  were 
created  under  Edward,  fourteen  under  Mary ;  some,  indeed,  places 
entitled  to  representation  by  their  wealth  and  population,  but  the  bulk 
of  them  small  towns  or  hamlets  which  lay  wholly  at  the  disposal  of 
the  royal  Council.  Elizabeth  adopted  the  system  of  her  two  pre- 
decessors, both  in  the  creation  of  boroughs  and  the  recommendation 
of  candidates  ;  but  her  keen  political  instinct  soon  perceived  the  use- 
lessness  of  both  expedients.  She  fell  back  as  far  as  she  could  on 
Wolsey's  policy  of  practical  abolition,  and  summoned  Parliaments  at 
longer  and  longer  intervals.  By  rigid  economy,  by  a  policy  of  balance 
and  peace,  she  strove,  and  for  a  long  time  successfully  strove,  to  avoid 
the  necessity  of  assembling  them  at  all.  But  Mary  of  Scotland  and 
Philip  of  Spain  proved  friends  to  English  liberty  in  its  sorest  need. 
The  struggle  with  Catholicism  forced  Elizabeth  to  have  more  frequent 
recourse  to  her  Parliament,  and  as  she  was  driven  to  appeal  for 
increasing  supplies  the  tone  of  the  Houses  rose  higher  and  higher. 
On  the  question  of  taxation  or  monopolies  her  fierce  spirit  was  forced 
to  give  way  to  their  demands.  C  n  the  question  of  religion  she  refused 
all  concession,  and  England  was  driven  to  await  a  change  of  system 
from  her  successor.  But  it  is  clear,  from  the  earlier  acts  of  his  reign, 
that  James  was  preparing  for  a  struggle  with  the  Houses  rather  than 
for  a  pohcy  of  concession.  During  the  Queen's  reign,  the  power  of 
Parliament  had  sprung  mainly  from  the  continuance  of  the  war,  and 
from  the  necessity  under  which  the  Crown  lay  of  appealing  to  it  for 
supplies.  It  is  fair  to  the  war  party  in  Elizabeth's  Council  to  remember 
that  they  were  fighting,  not  merely  for  Protestantism  abroad,  but  for  con- 
stitutional liberty  at  home.  When  Essex  overrode  Burleigh's  counsels 
of  peace,  the  old  minister  pointed  to  the  words  of  the  Bible,  "  a  blood- 
thirsty man  shall  not  live  out  half  his  days."  But  Essex  and  his  friends 
had  nobler  motives  for  their  policy  of  war  than  a  thirst  for  blood  ;  as 
James  had  other  motives  for  his  policy  of  peace  than  a  hatred  of 
bloodshedding.  The  peace  which  he  hastened  to  conclude  with  Spain 
was  necessary  tc\  estabhsh  the  security  of  his  throne  by  depriving  the 
Catholics,  who  alone  questioned  his  title,  of  foreign  aid.  With  the 
same  object  of  averting  a  Catholic  rising,  he  relaxed  the  penal  laws 
against  Catholics,  and  released  recusants  from  payment  of  fines.  But 
however  justifiable  such  steps  might  be,  the  sterner  Protestants  heard 
angrily  of  negotiations  with  Spain  and  with  the  Papacy  which  seemed 
to  show  a  withdrawal  from  the  struggle  with  Catholicism  at  home  and 
abroad. 

The  Parliament  of  1604  met  in  another  mood  from  that  of  any 

K 


4^2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


i 


arliament  which  had  met  for  a  hundred  years.  Short  as  had  been 
the  time  since  his  accession,  the  temper  of  the  King  had  already  dis- 
closed itself;  and  men  were  dwelling  ominously  on  the  claims  of 
absolutism  in  Church  and  State  which  were  constantly  on  his  lips. 
Above  all,  the  hopes  of  religious  concessions  to  which  the  Puritans 
had  clung  had  been  dashed  to  the  ground  in  the  Hampton  Court  Con- 
ference ;  and  of  the  squires  and  merchants  who  thronged  the  benches 
at  Westminster  three-fourths  were  in  sympathy  Puritan.  They  listened 
with  coldness  and  suspicion  to  the  proposals  of  the  King  for  the  union 
of  England  and  Scotland  under  the  name  of  Great  Britain.  What  the 
House  was  really  set  on  was  religious  reform.  The  first  step  of  the 
Commons  was  to  name  -a  committee  to  frame  bills  for  the  redress  of 
the  more  crying  ecclesiastical  grievances ;  and  the  rejection  of  the 
measures  they  proposed  was  at  once  followed  by  an  outspoken  address 
to  the  King.  The  Parliament,  it  said,  had  come  together  in  a  spirit 
of  peace  :  "  Our  desires  were  of  peace  only,  and  our  device  of  unity." 
Their  aim  had  been  to  put  an  end"to~The  long-standing  dissension 
among  the  ministers,  and  to  preserve  uniformity  by  the  abandonment 
of  "  a  few  ceremonies  of  small  importance,"  by  the  redress  of  some 
ecclesiastical  abuses,  and  by  the  establishment  of  an  efficient  training 
for  a  preaching  clergy.  If  they  had  waived  their  right  to  deal  with 
these  matters  during  the  old  age  of  Elizabeth,  they  asserted  it  now. 
"  Let  your  Majesty  be  pleased  to  receive  public  information  from  your 
Commons  in  Parliament,  as  well  of  the  abuses  in  the  Church,  as  in 
the  civil  state  and  government."  The  claim  of  absolutism  was  met 
in  words  which  sound  like  a  prelude  to  the  Petition  of  Right.  "  Your 
Majesty  would  be  misinformed,"  said  the  address,  "  if  any  man  should 
deliver  that  the  Kings  of  England  have  any  absolute  power  in  them- 
selves, either  to  alter  religion,  or  to  make  any  laws  concerning  the 
same,  otherwise  than  as  in  temporal  causes,  by  consent  of  Parlia- 
ment." The  address  was  met  by  a  petulant  scolding  from  James,  and 
the  Houses  were  adjourned.  The  support  of  the  Crown  emboldened 
the  bishops  to  a  fresh  defiance  of  the  Puritan  pressure.  The  act  of 
Elizabeth  which  sanctioned  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  compelled  minis- 
ters to  subscribe  only  to  those  which  concerned  the  faith  and  the 
sacraments  ;  but  the  Convocation  of  1604  by  its  canons  required  sub- 
scription to  the  articles  touching  riles  and  ceremonies.  The  new 
archbishop,  Bancroft,  added  a  requirement  of  rigid  conformity  with 
the  rubrics  on  the  part  of  all  beneficed  clergymen.  In  the  following 
spring  three  hundred  of  the  Puritan  clergy  were  driven  from  their 
livings  for  a  refusal  to  comply  with  these  demands. 

The  breach  with  the  Puritans  was  followed  by  a  breach  with  the 
Catholics.  The  increase  in  their  numbers  since  the  remission  of  fines 
had  spread  a  general  panic  ;  and  Parliament  had  re-enacted  the  penal 
l.iws.   A.  rumour  of  his  own  conversion  so  angered  the  King  that  these 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


483 


were  now  put  in  force  with,  even  more  severity  than  of  old.  The 
despair  of  the  Catholics  gave  fresh  life  to  a  conspiracy  which  had  long 
been  ripening.  Hopeless  of  aid  from  abroad,  or  of  success  in  an  open 
rising  at  home,  a  small  knot  of  desperate  men,  with  Robert  Catesby, 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  rising  of  Essex,  at  their  head,  resolved  to 
destroy  at  a  blow  both  King  and  Parliament.  Barrels  of  powder  were 
placed  in  a  cellar  beneath  the  Parliament  House  ;  and  while  waiting  for 
the  fifth  of  November,  when  the  Parliament  was  summoned  to  meet, 
the  plans  of  the  little  group  widened  into  a  formidable  conspiracy. 
Catholics  of  greater  fortune,  such  as  Sir  Everard  Digby  and  Francis 
Tresham,  were  admitted  to  their  confidence,  and  supplied  money  for  the 
larger  projects  they  designed.  Arms  were  bought  in  Flanders,  horses 
were  held  in  readiness,  a  meeting  of  Catholic  gentlemen  was  brought 
about  under  show  of  a  hunting  party  to  serve  as  the  beginning  of  a 
rising.  The  destruction  of  the  King  was  to  be  followed  by  the  seizure  . 
of  his  children  and  an  open  revolt,  in  which  aid  might  be  called  for 
from  the  Spaniards  in  Flanders.  Wonderful  as  was  the  secrecy  with 
which  the  plot  was  concealed,  the  family  affection  of  Tresham  at  the  last 
moment  gave  a  clue  to  it  by  a  letter  to  Lord  Monteagle,  his  relative, 
which  warned  him  to  absent  himself  from  the  Parliament  on  the  fatal 
day  ;  and  further  information  brought  about  the  discovery  of  the  cellar 
and  of  Guido  Fawkes,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  who  was  charged  with  the 
custody  of  it.  The  hunting  party  broke  up  in  despair,  the  conspirators 
were  chased  from  county  to  county,  and  either  killed  or  sent  to  the  block, 
and  Garnet,  the  Provincial  of  the  English  Jesuits,  was  brought  to  trial 
and  executed.  He  had  shrunk  from  all  part  in  the  plot,  but  its  existence 
had  been  made  known  to  him  by  another  Jesuit,  Greenway,  and  horror- 
stricken  as  he  represented  himself  to  have  been  he  had  kept  the 
secret  and  left  the  Parliament  to  its  doom. 

Parliament  was  drawn  closer  to  the  King  by  deliverance  from  a  com- 
mon peril,  and  when  the  Houses  met  in  1606  the  Commons  were  willing 
to  vote  a  sum  large  enough  to  pay  the  debt  left  by  Elizabeth  after  the 
war.  But  the  prodigality  of  James  was  fast  raising  his  peace  expen- 
diture to  the  level  of  the  war  expenditure  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  he  was 
driven  by  the  needs  of  his  treasury,  and  the  desire  to  free  himself 
from  Parliamentary  control,  to  seek  new  sources  of  revenue.  His 
first  great  innovation  was  the  imposition  of  customs  duties.  It  had 
long  been  declared  illegal  for  the  Crown  to  levy  any  duties  ungranted 
by  Parliament  save  those  on  wool,  leather,  and  tin.  A  duty  on  imports 
indeed  had  been  imposed  in  one  or  two  instances  by  Mary,  and  this 
impost  had  been  extended  by  Elizabeth  to  currants  and  wine  ;  but  these 
instances  were  too  trivial  and  exceptional  to  break  in  upon  the  general 
usage.  A  more  dangerous  precedent  lay  in  the  duties  which  the  great 
trading  companies,  such  as  those  to  the  Levant  and  to  the  Indies,  ex- 
actedfrom  merchants,  in  exchange — as  was  held— for  the  protection  they 


434 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


afforded  them  in  far-off  seas.  The  Levant  Company  was  now  dissolved 
and  James  seized  on  the  duties  it  had  levied  as  lapsing  to  the  Crown 
Parliament  protested  in  vain.  James  cared  quite  as  much  to  assert  his 
absolute  authority  as  to  fill  his  treasury.  A  case  therefore  was  brought 
before  the  Exchequer  Chamber,  and  the  judgement  of  the  Court  asserted 
the  King's  right  to  levy  what  customs  duties  he  would  at  his  pleasure. 
"  All  customs,"  said  the  Judges,  "  are  the  effects  of  foreign  commerce. 
but  all  affairs  of  commerce  and  treaties  with  foreign  nations  belong  to 
the  King's  absolute  power.  He  therefore,  who  has  power  over  the 
cause,  has  power  over  the  effect."  The  importance  of  a  decision  which 
would  go  far  to  free  the  Crown  from  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  Par- 
liament was  seen  keenly  enough  by  James.  English  commerce  was 
growing  fast,  and  English  merchants  were  fighting  their  way  to  the 
Spice  Islands,  and  establishing  settlements  in  the  dominions  of  the 
Mogul.  The  judgement  gave  James  a  revenue  which  was  sure  to  grow 
rapidly,  and  the  needs  of  his  treasury  forced  him  to  action.  After  two 
years'  hesitation  a  royal  proclamation  imposed  a  system  of  customs 
duties  on  many  articles  of  export  and  import.  But  if  the  new  impositions 
came  in  fast,  the  royal  debt  grew  faster.  Every  year  the  expenditure 
of  James  reached  a  higher  level,  and  necessity  forced  on  the  King  a  fresh 
assembling  of  Parliament.  The  "  great  contract "  drawn  up  by  Cecil, 
now  Earl  of  Salisbury,  proposed  that  James  should  waive  certain  op- 
pressive feudal  rights,  such  as  those  of  wardship  and  marriage,  and  the 
right  of  purveyance,  on  condition  that  the  Commons  raised  the  royal 
revenue  by  a  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  a  year.  The  bargain 
failed  however  before  the  distrust  of  the  Commons  :  and  the  King's  de- 
mand for  a  grant  to  pay  off  the  royal  debt  was  met  by  a  petition  of 
grievances.  They  had  jealously  watched  the  new  character  given  by 
James  to  royal  proclamations,  by  which  he  created  new  offences,  imposed 
new  penalties,  and  called  offenders  before  courts  which  had  no  legal 
jurisdiction  over  them.  The  province  of  the  spiritual  courts  had  been 
as  busily  enlarged.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  judges,  spurred  no  doubt  by 
the  old  jealousy  between  civil  and  ecclesiastical  lawyers,  entertained 
appeals  against  the  High  Commission,  and  strove  by  a  series  of 
decisions  to  set  bounds  to  its  limitless  claims  of  jurisdiction,  or  to  restrict 
its  powers  of  imprisonment  to  cases  of  schism  and  heresy.  The  judges 
were  powerless  against  the  Crowq  ;  and  James  was  vehement  in  his 
support  of  courts  which  were  closely  bound  up  with  his  own  prerogative. 
Were  the  treasury  once  full  no  means  remained  of  redressing  these  evils. 
Nor  were  the  Commons  willing  to  pass  over  silently  the  illegalities  ot 
the  past  years.  James  forbade  them  to  enter  on  the  subject  of  the  new 
duties,  but  their  remonstrance  was  none  the  less  vigorous.  "  Finding 
that  your  Majesty  without  advice  or  counsel  of  Parliament  hath  lately 
in  time  of  peace  set  both  greater  impositions  and  more  in  number  than 
any  of  your  noble  ancestors  did  ever  in  time  of  war,"  they  prayed 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


48s 


••f 


'  that  all  impositions  set  without  the  assent  of  Parliament  may  be  quite 
abolished  and  tdken  away,"  and  that  "  a  law  be  made  to  declare  that 
all  impositions  set  upon  your  people,  their  goods  or  merchandise,  save 
only  by  common  consent  in  Parliament,  are  and  shall  be  void."  As  to 
Church  grievances  their  demands  were  in  the  same  spirit.  They  prayed 
that  the  deposed  ministers  might  be  suffered  to  preach,  and  that  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  High  Commission  should  be  regulated  by  statute  ; 
in  other  words,  that  ecclesiastical  like  financial  matters  should  be  taken 
out  of  the  sphere  of  the  prerogative  and  be  owned  as  lying  henceforth 
within  the  cognizance  of  Parliament.  Whatever  concessions  James 
might  offer  on  other  subjects,  he  would  allow  no  interference  with  his 
ecclesiastical  prerogative  ;  the  Parliament  was  dissolved,  and  three 
years  passed  before  the  financial  straits  of  the  Government  forced  James 
to  face  the  two  Houses  again.  But  the  spirit  of  resistance  was  now 
fairly  routed.  Never  had  an  election  stirred  so  much  popular  passion 
as  that  of  1 614.  In  every  case  where  rejection  was  possible,  the  court 
candidates  were  rejected.  All  the  leading  members  of  the  popular 
party,  or  as  we  should  now  call  it,  the  C  pposition,  were  again  returned. 
But  three  hundred  of  the  members  were  wholly  new  men  ;  and  among 
these  we  note  for  the  first  time  the  names  of  two  leaders  in  the  later 
struggle  with  the  Crown.  Yorkshire  returned  Thomas  Wentworth  ; 
St.  Germans,  John  Eliot.  Signs  of  an  unprecedented  excitement  were 
seen  in  the  vehement  cheering  and  hissing  which  for  the  first  time 
marked  the  proceedings  of  the  Commons.  But  the  policy  of  the 
Parliament  was  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  its  predecessors.  It 
refused  to  grant  supphes  till  it  had  considered  public  grievances,  and 
it  fixed  on  the  impositions  and  the  abuses  of  the  Church  as  the  first  to 
be  redressed.  Unluckily  the  inexperience  of  the  bulk  of  the  House 
of  Commons  led  it  into  quarrelling  on  a  point  of  privilege  with  the 
Lords ;  and  the  King,  who  had  been  frightened  beyond  his  wont  at 
the  vehemence  of  their  tone  and  language,  seized  on  the  quarrel  as  a 
pretext  for  their  dissolution. 

Four  of  the  leading  members  in  the  dissolved  ParHament  were  sent 
to  the  Tower  ;  and  the  terror  and  resentment  which  it  had  roused  in 
the  King's  mind  were  seen  in  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  long  persisted 
in  governing  without  any  Parliament  at  all.  For  seven  years  he 
carried  out  with  a  blind  recklessness  his  theory  of  an  absolute  rule, 
unfettered  by  any  scruples  as  to  the  past,  or  any  dread  of  the  future. 
All  the  abuses  which  Parliament  after  Parliament  had  denounced  were 
not  only  continued,  but  carried  to  a  greater  extent  than  before.  The 
spiritual  courts  were  encouraged  in  fresh  encroachments.  Though  the 
Crown  lawyers  admitted  the  illegality  of  proclamations  they  were 
issued  in  greater  numbers  than  ever.  Impositions  were  strictly  levied. 
But  the  treasury  was  still  empty  ;  and  a  fatal  necessity  at  last  drove 
James  to  a  formal  breach  of  law.     He  fell  back  on  a  resource  which 


486 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


even  Wolsey  in  the  height  of  the  Tudor  power  had  been  forced  to 
abandon.  But  the  letters  from  the  Council  demanding  benevolences 
or  gifts  from  the  richer  landowners  remained  generally  unanswered. 
In  the  three  years  which  followed  the  dissolution  of  1614  the  strenuous 
efforts  of  the  sheriffs  only  raised  sixty  thousand  pounds,  a  sum  less 
than  two-thirds  of  the  value  of  a  single  subsidy  ;  and  although  the 
remonstrances  of  the  western  counties  were  roughly  silenced  by  the 
threats  of  the  Council,  two  counties,  those  of  Hereford  and  Stafford, 
sent  not  a  penny  to  the  last.  In  his  distress  for  money  James  was 
driven  to  expedients  which  widened  the  breach  between  the  gentry 
and  the  Crown.  He  had  refused  to  part  with  the  feudal  rights  which 
came  down  to  him  from  the  Middle  Ages,  such  as  his  right  to 
the  wardship  of  young  heirs  and  the  marriage  of  heiresses,  and  these 
were  steadily  used  as  a  means  of  extortion.  He  degraded  the  nobility 
by  a  shameless  sale  of  peerages.  Of  the  forty-five  lay  peers  whom  he 
added  to  the  Upper  House  during  his  reign,  many  were  created  by 
sheer  bargaining.  A  proclamation  which  forbade  the  increase  of 
houses  in  London  brought  heavy  fines  into  the  treasury.  IJy  shifts 
such  as  these  James  put  off  from  day  to  day  the  necessity  for  again 
encountering  the  one  body  which  could  permanently  arrest  his  effort 
after  despotic  rule.  But  there  still  remained  a  body  whose  tradition 
was  strong  enough,  not  indeed  to  arrest,  but  to  check  it.  The  lawyers 
had  been  subservient  beyond  all  other  classes  to  the  Crown.  In  the 
narrow  pedantry  with  which  they  bent  before  isolated  precedents, 
without  realizing  the  conditions  under  which  these  precedents  had 
been  framed,  and  to  which  they  owed  their  very  varying  value,  the 
judges  had  supported  James  in  his  claims.  But  beyond  precedents 
even  the  judges  refused  to  go.  They  had  ilone  their  best,  in  a  case 
that  came  before  them,  to  restrict  the  jurisdiction  of  the  ecclesiastical 
courts  within  legal  and  definite  bounds  :  and  when  James  asserted  an 
inherent  right  in  the  King  to  be  heard  before  judgement  was  delivered, 
whenever  any  case  affecting  the  prerogative  came  before  his  courts, 
they  timidly,  but  firmly,  repudiated  such  a  right  as  unknown  to  the  law. 
James  sent  for  them  to  the  Royal  closet,  and  rated  them  like  school- 
boys, till  they  fell  on  their  knees,  and,  with  a  single  exception,  pledged 
themselves  to  obey  his  will.  The  Chief-Justice,  Sir  Edward  Coke,  a 
narrow-minded  and  bitter-tempered  man,  but  of  the  highest  eminence 
as  a  lawyer,  and  with  a  reverence  for  the  law  that  overrode  every  other 
instinct,  alone  remained  firm.  When  any  case  came  before  him,  he 
answered,  he  would  act  as  it  became  a  judge  to  act.  Coke  was  at  once 
dismissed  from  the  Council,  and  a  provision  which  made  the  judicial 
office  tenable  at  the  King's  pleasure,  but  which  had  long  fallen  into 
disuse,  was  revived  to  humble  the  common  law  in  the  person  of  its  chief 
officer  ;  on  the  continuance  of  his  resistance  he  was  deprived  of  his 
post  of  Chief  justice.    No  act  of  James  seems  to  have  stirred  a  deeper 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


487 


resentment  among  Englishmen  than  this  announcement  of  his  will  to 
tamper  with  the  course  of  justice.  It  was  an  outrage  on  the  growing 
sense  of  law,  as  the  profusion  and  profligacy  of  the  court  were  an 
outrage  on  the  growing  sense  of  morality.  The  treasury  was  drained 
to  furnish  masques  and  revels  on  a  scale  of  unexampled  splendour. 
Lands  and  jewels  were  lavished  on  young  adventurers,  whose  fair 
faces  caught  the  royal  fancy.  Jf  the  court  of  Elizabeth  was  as  immoral 
as  that  of  her  successor,  its  immorality  had  been  shrouded  by  a  veil 
of  grace  and  chivalry.  But  no  veil  hid  the  degrading  grossness  of 
the  court  of  James.  The  King  was  held,  though  unjustly,  to  be  a 
drunkard.  Actors  in  a  masque  performed  at  court  were  seen  rolling 
intoxicated  at  his  feet.  A  scandalous  trial  showed  great  nobles  and 
officers  of  state  in  league  with  cheats  and  astrologers  and  poisoners. 
James  himself  had  not  shrunk  from  meddhng  busily  in  the  divorce  of 
Lady  Essex  ;  and  her  subsequent  bridal  with  one  of  his  favourites 
was  celebrated  in  his  presence.  Before  scenes  such  as  these,  the 
half-idolatrous  reverence  with  which  the  sovereign  had  been  regarded 
throughout  the  period  of  the  Tudors  died  away  into  abhorrence  and 
contempt.  The  players  openly  mocked  at  the  King  on  the  stage. 
Mrs.  Hutchinson  denounced  the  orgies  of  Whitehall  in  words  as  fiery 
as  those  with  which  Elijah  denounced  the  sensuality  of  Jezebel.  But 
the  immorality  of  James's  court  was  hardly  more  despicable  than  the 
folly  of  his  government.  In  the  silence  of  Parliament,  the  royal 
Council,  composed  as  it  was  not  merely  of  the  ministers,  but  of  the 
higher  nobles  and  hereditary  officers  of  state,  had  served  even  under 
a  despot  like  Henry  the  Eighth  as  a  check  upon  the  arbitrary  will  of 
the  sovereign.  But  after  the  death  of  Lord  Burleigh's  son,  Robert 
Cecil,  the  minister  whom  Elizabeth  had  bequeathed  to  him,  and  whose 
services  in  procuring  his  accession  were  rewarded  by  the  Earldom  of 
Salisbury,  all  real  control  over  affairs  was  withdrawn  by  James  from 
the  Council,  and  entrusted  to  worthless  favourites  whom  the  King 
chose  to  raise  to  honour.  A  Scotch  page  named  Carr  was  created 
Viscount  Rochester  and  Earl  of  Somerset,  and  married  after  her 
divorce  to  Lady  Essex.  Supreme  in  State  affairs,  domestic  and 
foreign,  he  was  at  last  hurled  from  favour  and  power  on  the  charge  of 
a  horrible  crime,  the  murder  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury  by  poison,  of 
which  he  and  his  Countess  were  convicted  of  being  the  instigators. 
Another  favourite  was  already  prepared  to  take  his  place.  George 
Villiers,  a  handsome  young  adventurer,  was  raised  rapidly  through 
every  rank  of  the  peerage,  made  Marquis  and  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
and  entrusted  with  the  appointment  to  high  offices  of  state.  The  pay- 
ment of  bribes  to  him,  or  marriage  with  his  greedy  relatives,  became 
the  one  road  to  political  preferment.  Resistance  to  his  will  was 
inevitably  followed  by  dismissal  from  office.  Even  the  highest  and  most 
powerful  of  the  nobles  were  made  to  tremble  at  the  nod  of  this  young 


488 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  II. 
The  First 

OK  THE 

Stuarts 
1604 

TO 

1623 


The 
Spanish 
Policy 


1612 


1617 


Rultgk't 


upstart.  "  Never  any  man  in  any  age,  nor,  I  believe,  in  any  country,"' 
says  the  astonished  Clarendon,  "  rose  in  so  short  a  time  to  so  much 
greatness  of  honour,  power,  or  fortune,  upon  no  other  advantage  or 
recommendation  than  of  the  beauty  or  gracefulness  of  his  person." 
Buckingham  indeed  had  no  inconsiderable  abilities,  but  his  self-confi- 
dence and  recklessness  were  equal  to  his  beauty  ;  and  the  haughty 
young  favourite  on  whose  neck  James  loved  to  loll,  and  whose  cheek 
he  slobbered  with  kisses,  was  destined  to  drag  down  in  his  fatal  career 
the  throne  of  the  Stuarts. 

The  new  system  was  even  more  disastrous  in  its  results  abroad  than 
at  home.  The  withdrawal  of  power  from  the  Council  left  James  in 
effect  his  own  chief  minister,  and  master  of  the  control  of  affairs  as 
no  English  sovereign  had  been  before  him.  At  his  accession  he 
found  the  direction  of  foreign  affairs  in  the  hands  of  Salisbury,  and  so 
long  as  Salisbury  lived  the  Elizabethan  policy  was  in  the  main  adhered 
to.  Peace,  indeed,  was  made  with  Spain  ;  but  a  close  alliance  with  the 
United  Provinces,  and  a  more  guarded  alliance  with  France,  held  the 
ambition  of  Spain  in  check  almost  as  effectually  as  war.  When  danger 
grew  threatening  in  Germany  from  the  Catholic  zeal  of  the  House  of 
Austria,  the  marriage  of  the  King's  daughter,  Elizabeth,  with  the  heir 
of  the  Elector- Palatine  promised  English  support  to  its  Protestant 
powers.  But  the  death  of  Salisbury,  and  the  dissolution  of  the  Parlia- 
ment of  1614,  were  quickly  followed  by  a  disastrous  change.  James  at 
once  proceeded  to  undo  all  that  the  struggle  of  Elizabeth  and  the 
triumph  of  the  Armada  had  done.  His  quick,  shallow  intelligence  held 
that  in  a  joint  action  with  Spain  it  had  found  a  way  by  which  the  Crown 
might  at  once  exert  weight  abroad,  and  be  rendered  independent  of 
the  nation  at  home.  A  series  of  negotiations  was  begun  for  the 
marriage  of  his  son  with  a  Princess  of  Spain.  Each  of  his  successive 
favourites  sup|)ortcd  the  Spanish  alliance  ;  and  after  years  of  secret 
intrigue  the  King's  intentions  were  proclaimed  to  the  world,  at  the 
moment  when  the  policy  of  the  House  of  Austria  threatened  the 
Protestants  of  Southern  Germany  with  utter  ruin  or  civil  war.  From 
whatever  quarter  the  first  aggression  should  come,  it  was  plain  that  a 
second  great  struggle  in  arms  between  Protestantism  and  Catholicism 
was  to  be  fouj4ht  out  on  German  soil.  It  was  their  prescience  of  the 
coming  conflict  which,  on  the  very  eve  of  the  crisis,  spurred  a  party 
among  his  ministers  who  still  clung  to  the  traditions  of  Salisbury  to 
support  an  enterprise  which  promised  to  detach  the  King  from  his  new 
policy  by  entangling  him  in  a  war  with  Spain.  Sir  Walter  Ralegh,  the 
one  great  warrior  of  the  Elirabethan  time  who  still  lingered  on,  had 
been  imprisoned  ever  since  the  beginning  of  the  new  reign  in  the  Tower 
on  a  charge  of  treason.  He  now  disclosed  to  James  his  knowledije  of 
a  gold-mine  on  the  Orinoco,  and  prayed  that  he  might  sail  thither  and 
work  its  treasures  for  the  King.     The  King  was  tempted  by  the  bait  of 


VIII. ] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


489 


gold  ;  but  he  forbade  any  attack  on  Spanish  territory,  or  the  shedding 
of  Spanish  blood.  Ralegh  however  had  risked  his  head  again  and 
again,  he  believed  in  the  tale  he  told,  and  he  knew  that  if  war  could 
be  brought  about  between  England  and  Spain  a  new  career  was  open 
to  him.  He  found  the  coast  occupied  by  Spanish  troops  ;  evading  direct 
orders  to  attack  he  sent  his  men  up  the  country,  where  they  plundered 
a  Spanish  town,found  no  gold-mine,  and  came  broken  and  defeated  back. 
The  daring  of  the  man  saw  a  fresh  resource  ;  he  proposed  to  seize  the 
Spanish  treasure  ships  as  he  returned,  and,  like  Drake,  to  turn  the  heads 
of  nation  and  King  by  the  immense  spoil.  But  his  men  would  not  follow 
him,  and  he  was  brought  home  to  face  his  doom.  James  at  once  put 
his  old  sentence  in  force  ;  and  the  death  of  the  broken-hearted  adven- 
turer on  the  scaffold  atoned  for  the  affront  to  Spain.  The  failure  of 
Ralegh  came  at  a  critical  moment  in  German  history.  The  religious 
truce  which  had  so  long  preserved  the  peace  of  Germany  was  broken  in 
161 8  by  the  revolt  of  Bohemia  against  the  rule  of  the  Catholic  House 
of  Austria ;  and  when  the  death  of  the  Emperor  Matthias  raised  his 
cousin  Ferdinand  in  i6i9to  the  Empire  and  to  the  throne  of  Bohemia, 
its  nobles  declared  the  realm  vacant  and  chose  Frederick,  the  young 
Elector  Palatine,  as  their  King.  The  German  Protestants  were  divided 
by  the  fatal  jealousy  between  their  Lutheran  and  Calvinist  princes ; 
but  it  was  believed  that  Frederick's  election  could  unite  them,  and  the 
Bohemians  counted  on  England's  support  when  they  chose  James's 
son-in-law  for  their  king.  A  firm  policy  would  at  any  rate  have  held 
Spain  inactive,  and  limited  the  contest  to  Germany  itself  But  the 
''  statecraft ''  on  which  James  prided  himself  led  him  to  count,  not  on 
Spanish  fear,  but  on  Spanish  friendship.  He  refused  aid  to  the  Pro- 
testant Union  of  the  German  Princes  when  they  espoused  the  cause  of 
Bohemia,  and  threatened  war  against  Holland,  the  one  power  which 
was  earnest  in  the  Palatine's  cause.  It  was  in  vain  that  both  court 
and  people  were  unanimous  in  their  cry  for  war.  James  still  pressed 
his  son-in-law  to  withdraw  from  Bohemia,  and  relied  in  such  a  case 
on  the  joint  efforts  of  England  and  Spain  to  restore  peace.  But 
Frederick  refused  consent,  and  Spain  quickly  threw  aside  the  mask. 
Her  famous  battalions  were  soon  moving  up  the  Rhine  to  the  aid  of 
the  Emperor  ;  and  their  march  turned  the  local  struggle  in  Bohemia 
into  a  European  war.  While  the  Spaniards  occupied  the  Palatinate, 
the  army  of  the  Catholic  League  under  Maximilian  of  Bavaria  marched 
down  the  Danube,  reduced  Austria  to  submission,  and  forced  Frederick 
to  battle  before  the  walls  of  Prague.  Before  the  day  was  over  he  was 
galloping  off,  a  fugitive,  to  North  Germany,  to  find  the  Spaniards 
encamped  as  its  masters  in  the  heart  of  the  Palatinate. 

James  had  been  duped,  and  for  the  moment  he  bent  before  the  burst 
of  popular  fury  which  the  danger  to  German  Protestantism  called  up. 
He  had  already  been  brought  to  suffer  Sir  Horace  Vere  to  take  some 

R* 


490 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


English  volunteers  to  the  Palatinate.  But  the  succour  had  come  too 
late.  The  cry  for  a  Parliament,  the  necessary  prelude  to  a  war,  over- 
powered the  King's  secret  resistance  ;  and  the  Houses  were  again 
called  together.  But  the  Commons  were  bitterly  chagrined  as  they 
found  only  demands  for  supplies,  and  a  persistence  in  the  old  efforts  to 
patch  up  a  peace.  James  even  sought  the  good  will  of  the  Spaniards 
by  granting  license  for  the  export  of  arms  to  .Spain.  The  resentment 
of  the  Commons  found  expression  in  their  dealings  with  home  affairs. 
The  most  crying  constitutional  grievance  arose  fro  n  the  revival  of 
monopolies,  in  spite  of  the  pledge  of  Elizabeth  to  suppress  them.  A 
parliamentary  right  which  had  slept  ever  since  the  reign  of  Henry  VI., 
the  right  of  the  Lower  House  to  impeach  great  offenders  at  the  bar  of 
the  Lords,  was  revived  against  the  monopolists  ;  and  James  was  driven 
by  the  general  indignation  to  leave  them  to  their  fate.  But  the  prac- 
tice of  monopolies  was  only  one  sign  of  the  corruption  of  the  court. 
Sales  of  peerages  and  offices  of  state  had  raised  a  general  disgust ; 
and  this  disgust  showed  itself  in  the  impeachment  of  the  highest 
among  the  officers  of  State,  the  Chancellor,  Francis  Bacon,  the  most 
distinguished  man  of  his  time  for  learning  and  ability.  At  the  acces- 
sion of  James  the  rays  of  royal  favour  had  broken  slowly  upon  Bacon. 
He  became  successively  Solicitor  and  Attorney-General  ;  the  year  of 
Shakspere's  death  saw  him  called  to  the  Privy  Council ;  he  verified 
Elizabeth's  prediction  by  becoming  Lord  Keeper.  At  last  the  goal  of 
his  ambition  was  reached.  He  had  attached  himself  to  the  rising 
fortunes  of  Buckingham,  and  the  favour  of  Buckingham  made  him 
Lord  Chancellor.  He  was  raised  to  the  peerage  as  Baron  Verulam, 
and  created,  at  a  later  time,  V^iscount  St.  Albans.  But  the  nobler 
dreams  for  which  these  meaner  honours  had  been  sought  escaped 
his  grasp.  His  projects  still  remained  projects,  while  to  retain  his 
hold  on  office  he  was  stooping  to  a  miserable  compliance  with  the 
worst  excesses  of  Buckingham  and  his  royal  master.  The  years 
during  which  he  held  the  Chancellorship  were  the  most  disgraceful 
years  of  a  disgraceful  rei^in.  They  saw  the  execution  of  Ralegh,  the 
sacrifice  of  the  Palatinate,  the  exaction  of  benevolences,  the  multiplica- 
tion of  monopolies,  the  supremacy  of  Buckingham.  Against  none  of  the 
acts  of  folly  and  wickedness  which  distinguished  James's  government 
did  Bacon  do  more  than  protest  ;  in  some  of  the  worst,  and  above 
all  in  the  attempt  to  coerce  the  judges  into  prostrating  law  at  the 
King's  feet,  he  took  a  personal  part.  But  even  his  remonstrances  were 
too  much  for  the  young  favourite,  who  regarded  him  as  the  mere 
creature  of  his  will.  It  was  in  vain  that  Bacon  flung  himself  on  the 
Duke's  mercy,  and  begged  him  to  pardon  a  single  instance  of  opposition 
to  his  caprice.  A  Parliament  was  impending,  and  Buckingham  resolved 
to  avert  from  himself  the  storm  which  was  gathering  by  sacrificing  to 
it  his  meaner  dependants.     To  ordinary  eyes  the  Chancellor  was  at 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


491 


the  summit  of  human  success.  Jonson  had  just  sung  of  him  as  one 
"whose  even  thread  the  Fates  spin  round  and  full  out  of  their  choicest 
and  their  whitest  wool,"  when  the  storm  burst.  The  Commons  charged 
Bacon  with  corruption  in  the  exercise  of  his  office.  It  had  been  cus- 
tomary amojig  Chancellors  to  receive  gifts  from  successful  suitors  after 
their  suit  was  ended.  Bacon,  it  is  certain,  had  taken  such  gifts  from 
men  whose  suits  ^ere  still  unsettled  ;  and  though  his  judgement  may 
have  been  unaffected  by  them,  the  fact  of  their  reception  left  him  with 
no  valid  defence.  He  at  once  pleaded  guilty  to  the  charge.  "  I  do 
plainly  and  ingenuously  confess  that  I  am  guilty  of  corruption,  and  do 
renounce  all  defence."  "  I  beseech  your  Lordships,"  he  added, "  to  be 
merciful  to  a  broken  reed."  The  heavy  fine  imposed  on  him  was 
remitted  by  the  Crown  ;  but  the  Great  Seal  was  taken  from  him,  and 
he  was  declared  incapable  of  holding  office  in  the  State  or  of  sitting  in 
Parliament,  Bacon's  fall  restored  him  to  that  position  of  real  greatness 
from  which  his  ambition  had  so  loHg  torn  him  away.  "  My  conceit  of 
his  person,"  said  Ben  Jonson, "  wa?  never  increased  towards  him  by 
his  place  or  honours.  But  I  have. and  do  reverence  him  for  his  great- 
ness that  was  only  proper  to  himself,  in  that  he  seemed  to  me  ever  by 
his  work  one  of  the  greatest  men,  and  most  worthy  of  admiration,  that 
had  been  in  many  ages.  In  his  adversity  I  ever  prayed  that  God  would 
give  him  strength  :  for  greatness  he  could  not  want."  His  intellectual 
activity  was  never  more  conspicuous  than  in  the  last  four  years  of 
his  life.  He  had  presented  "  Novum  Organum"  to  James  in  the  year 
before  his  fall  ;  in  the  year  after  it  he  produced  his  "  Natural  and 
Experimental  History."  He  began  a  digest  of  the  laws,  and  a  "  History 
of  England  under  the  Tudors,"  revised  and  expanded  his  "  Essays," 
dictated  a  jest  book,  and  busied  himself  with  experiments  in  physics. 
It  was  while  studying  the  effect  of  cold  in  preventing  animal  putrefac- 
tion that  he  stopped  his  coach  to  stuff  a  fowl  with  snow  and  caught  the 
fever  which  ended  in  his  death. 

James  was  too  shrewd  to  mistake  the  importance  of  Bacon's  im- 
peachment ;  but  the  hostility  of  Buckingham  to  the  Chancellor,  and 
Bacon's  own  confession  of  his  guilt,  made  it  difficult  to  resist  his 
condemnation.  Energetic  too  as  its  measures  were  against  corrup- 
tion and  monopolists,  the  Parliament  respected  scrupulously  the 
King's  prejudices  in  other  matters  ;  and  eve  i  when  checked  by  an 
adjournment,  resolved  unanimously  to  support  him  in  any  earnest 
effort  for  the  Protestant  cause.  A  warlil^e  speech  from  a  member 
before  the  adjournment  roused  an  enthusiasm  which  recalled  the  days 
of  Elizabeth.  The  Commons  answered  the  appeal  by  a  unanimous 
vote,  "  lifting  their  hats  as  high  as  they  could  hold  them,"  that  for 
the  recovery  of  the  Palatinate  they  would  adventure  their  fortunes, 
their  estates,  and  their  lives.  "  Rather  this  declaration,"  cried  a  leader 
of  the  country  party  when  it  was  read  by  the  Speaker,  "  than  ten  thou- 


Sec.  II. 
The  First 

OF  THE 

Stuarts 
1604. 

TO 

1623 


Dfa//i  of 
Ba  on 
1626 


Dissolu- 
tion of 

the  Par- 
liament 


June,  1621 


492 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Sec.  II. 
The  First 

OF  THE 

Stuarts 
1604. 

TO 

1623 


Nov.  1 62 1 


Protestation 
Commons 


sand  men  already  on  the  march."  For  the  moment  the  resolve  seemed 
to  give  vigour  to  the  royal  policy.  James  had  aimed  throughout  at 
the  restitution  of  Bohemia  to  Ferdinand,  and  at  inducing  the  Emperor, 
through  the  mediation  of  Spain,  to  abstain  from  any  retaliation  on  the 
Palatinate.  He  now  freed  himself  for  a  moment  from  the  trammels 
of  diplomacy,  and  enforced  a  cessaiion  of  the  attack  on  his  son-in-law's 
dominions  by  a  threat  of  war.  The  suspension  of  arms  lasted  through 
the  summer  ;  but  mere  threats  could  do  no  more,  and  on  the  conquest 
of  the  Upper  Palatinate  by  the  forces  of  the  Catholic  League,  James 
fell  back  on  his  old  policy  of  mediation  through  the  aid  of  Spain. 
The  negotiations  for  the  marriage  with  the  Infanta  were  pressed  more 
busily.  Gondomar,  the  Spanish  Ambassador,  who  had  become  all- 
powerful  at  the  English  court,  was  assured  that  no  effectual  aid  should 
be  sent  to  the  Palatinate.  The  English  fleet,  which  was  cruising  by 
way  of  menace  off  the  Spanish  coast,  was  called  home.  The  King 
dismissed  those  of  his  ministers  who  still  opposed  a  Spanish  policy  ; 
and  threatened  on  trivial  pretexts  a  war  with  the  Dutch,  the  one  great 
Protestant  power  that  remained  in  alliance  with  England,  and  was 
ready  to  back  the  Elector.  But  he  had  still  to  reckon  with  his 
Parliament  ;  and  the  first  act  of  the  Parliament  on  its  re-assembling 
was  to  demand  a  declaration  of  war  with  Spain.  The  instinct 
of  the  nation  was  wiser  than  the  statecraft  of  the  King.  Ruined 
and  enfeebled  as  she  really  was,  Spain  to  the  world  at  large  still 
seemed  the  champion  of  Catholicism.  It  was  the  entry  of  her 
troops  into  the  Palatinate  which  had  first  widened  the  local  war  in' 
Bohemia  into  a  great  struggle  for  the  suppression  of  Protestantism 
along  the  Rhine  ;  above  all  it  was  Spanish  influence,  and  the  hopes 
held  out  of  a  marriage  of  his  son  with  a  Spanish  Infanta,  which  were 
luring  the  King  into  his  fatal  dependence  on  the  great  enemy  of  the 
Protestant  cause.  In  their  petition  the  Houses  coupled  with  their 
demands  for  war  the  demand  of  a  Protestant  marriage  for  their  future 
King.  Experience  proved  in  later  years  how  perilous  it  was  for 
English  freedom  that  the  heir  to  the  Crown  should  be  brought  up  under 
a  Catholic  mother  ;  but  James  was  beside  himself  at  their  presump- 
tion in  dealing  with  mysteries  of  state.  "  Bring  stools  for  the  Ambas- 
sadors," he  cried  in  bitter  irony  as  their  committee  appeared  before 
him.  He  refused  the  petition,  forbade  any  further  discussion  of  state 
policy,  and  threatened  the  speakers  with  the  Tower.  "  Let  us  resort 
to  our  prayers,"  a  member  said  calmly  as  the  King's  letter  was  read, 
"  and  then  consider  of  this  great  business."  The  temper  of  the  House 
was  seen  in  the  Protestation  which  met  the  royal  command  to  abstain 
from  discussion.  It  resolved  "  That  the  liberties,  franchises,  privileges, 
and  Jurisdictions  of  Parliament  are  the  ancient  and  undoubted  birth- 
right and  inheritance  of  the  subjects  of  England  ;  and  that  the  arduous 
and  urgent  affairs  concerning  the  King,  state,  and  defence  of  the 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


493 


realm,  and  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  the  making  and  mainten- 
ance of  laws,  and  redress  of  grievances,  which  daily  happen  within  this 
realm,  are  proper  subjects  and  matter  of  council  and  debate  in  Parlia- 
ment. And  that  in  the  handling  and  proceeding  of  those  businesses 
every  member  of  the  House  hath,  and  of  right  ought  to  have,  freedom 
of  speech  to  propound,  treat,  reason,  and  bring  to  conclusion  the  same." 
The  King  answered  the  Protestation  by  a  characteristic  outrage. 
He  sent  for  the  Journals  of  the  House,  and  with  his  own  hand  tore 
out  the  pages  which  contained  it.  "  I  will  govern,"  he  said,  "  ac- 
cording to  the  common  weal,  but  not  according  to  the  common 
will."  A  few  days  after  he  dissolved  the  Parliament.  "  It  is  the  best 
thing  that  has  happened  in  the  interests  of  Spain  and  of  the  Catholic 
religion  since  Luther  began  preaching,"  wrote  the  Count  of  Gondomar 
to  his  master,  in  his  joy  that  all  danger  of  war  had  passed  away.  "  1 
am  ready  to  depart,"  Sir  Henry  Savile,  on  the  other  hand,  murmured 
on  his  death-bed,  "  the  rather  that  having  lived  in  good  times  I  foresee 
worse."  Abroad  indeed  all  was  lost ;  and  Germany  plunged  wijdly 
and  blindly  forward  into  the  chaos  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  But  for 
England  the  victory  of  freedom  was  practically  won.  James  had 
himself  ruined  the  main  bulwarks  of  the  monarchy.  In  his  desire  for 
personal  government  he  had  destroyed  the  authority  of  the  Council. 
He  had  accustomed  men  to  think  lightly  of  the  ministers  of  the 
Crown,  to  see  them  browbeaten  by  favourites,  and  driven  from  office 
for  corruption.  He  had  disenchanted  his  people  of  their  blind  faith 
in  the  monarchy  by  a  policy  at  home  and  abroad  which  ran  counter 
to  every  national  instinct.  He  had  quarrelled  with,  and  insulted  the 
Houses,  as  no  English  sovereign  had  ever  done  before  ;  and  all  the 
while  the  authority  he  boasted  of  was  passing,  without  his  being  able 
to  hinder  it,  to  the  Parliament  which  he  outraged.  There  was 
shrewdness  as  well  as  anger  in  his  taunt  at  its  "ambassadors."  A 
power  had  at  last  risen  up  in  the  Commons  with  which  the  Monarchy 
was  henceforth  to  reckon.  In  spite  of  the  King's  petulant  outbreaks, 
Parliament  had  asserted  its  exclusive  right  to  the  control  of  taxation. 
It  had  attacked  monopolies.  It  had  reformed  abuses  in  the  courts  of 
law.  It  had  revived  the  right  of  impeaching  and  removing  from  office 
the  highest  ministers  of  the  Crown.  It  had  asserted  its  privilege  of  free 
discussion  on  all  questions  connected  with  the  welfare  of  the  realm. 
It  had  claimed  to  deal  with  the  question  of  religion.  It  had  even 
declared  its  will  on  the  sacred  "mystery"  of  foreign  policy.  James 
might  tear  the  Protestation  from  its  Journals,  but  there  were  pages  in 
the  record  of  the  Parliament  of  162 1  which  he  never  could  tear  out. 

Section  III.— Tbe  King  and  the  Parliament.    1623—1629. 

[Authorities.-    For  the  first  part  of  this  period  we  have  still  Mr.  Gardiner's 
"History  of  England  from  the  accession  of  James  I.,"  which  throws  a  full 


494 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Skc.  III. 
The  King 

A  ^l)  THE 

Pakma- 

MKNT 

1623 

T  ) 

1629 


The 
Spanish 
Marriagre 


:623 


and  fresh  light  on  one  of  the  most  obscure  times  in  our  history.  His  work  is 
as  valuable  for  the  early  reign  of  Charles,  a  perial  well  illustrated  by  Mr. 
Forster's  "  Life  of  Sir  John  Fliot."  Among  the  general  accounts  of  the 
reign  of  Charles,  Mr,  Disraeli's  "  Commentaries  on  the  Reign  of  Charles  I." 
is  the  most  prominent  on  the  one  side  :  Brodie's  "  History  of  the  British 
Kmpire,"  and  Godwin's  "  History  of  the  Commonwealth,"  on  the  other.  M 
C.uizot's  work  is  accurate  and  impartial,  and  Lingard  of  especial  value  for  the 
history  of  the  English  Catholics,  and  for  his  detail  «»f  foreign  affairs.  F"<>r  the 
ecclesiastical  side  see  Laud's  *•  Diary."  The  Commons  Journal  gives  the 
proceedings  of  the  Parliaments.  Throughout  this  period  the  Calendars  of  State 
Pape  s,  n  )W  issuing  under  the  direction  of  the  Master  of  the  UoUs,  are  of  the 
greatest  historic  value.  Kanke's  "  History  of  England  in  the  Seventeenth 
Century  "  is  important  for  the  whole  Stuart  period.] 

In  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  clung  to  his  Spanish  policy  James 
stood  absolutely  alone  ;  for  not  only  the  old  nobility  and  the  statesmen 
who  preserved  the  tradition  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  but  even  his  own 
ministers,  with  the  exception  of  Buckingham  and  the  Treasurer, 
Cranfield,  were  at  one  with  the  Commons.  The  King's  aim,  as  we 
have  said,  was  to  enforce  peace  on  the  combatants,  and  to  bring 
about  the  restitution  of  the  Palatinate  to  the  Elector,  through  the 
intluence  of  Spain.  It  was  to  secure  this  influence  that  he  pressed 
for  a  closer  union  with  the  great  Catholic  power  ;  and  of  this  union, 
and  the  success  of  the  policy  which  it  embodied,  the  marriage  of  his 
son  Charles  with  the  Infanta,  which  had  been  held  out  as  a  lure  to  his 
vanity,  was  to  be  the  sign.  But  the  more  James  pressed  for  this  consum- 
ni  ition  of  his  projects,  the  more  Spain  held  back.  At  last  Buckingham 
proposed  to  force  the  Spaniard's  hand  by  the  arrival  of  Charles  himself 
at  the  Spanish  Court.  The  Prince  quitted  England  ip  disguise,  and 
appeared  with  Buckingham  at  Madrid  to  claim  his  bride.  It  was  in 
vain  that  Spain  rose  in  its  demands  ;  for  every  new  demand  was  met  by 
fresh  concessions  on  the  part  of  England.  The  abrogation  of  the 
penal  laws  against  the  Catholics,  a  Catholic  education  for  the  Prince's 
children,  a  Catholic  household  for  the  Infanta,  all  were  no  sooner 
asked  than  they  were  granted.  But  the  marriage  was  still  delayed, 
while  the  influence  of  the  new  policy  on  the  war  in  Germany  was  hard 
to  see.  The  Catholic  League  and  its  army,  under  the  command  of 
Count  Tilly,  won  triumph  after  triumph  over  their  divided  foes.  The 
reduction  of  Heidelberg  and  Mannheim  completed  the  conquest  of  the 
Palatinate,  whose  Elector  fled  helplessly  to  Holland,  while  his  Electoral 
dignity  was  transferred  by  the  Emperor  to  the  Duke  of  Bavaria.  But 
there  was  still  no  sign  of  the  hoped-for  intervention  on  the  part  o! 
Spain.  At  last  the  pressure  of  Charles  himself  brought  about  the 
discU)sure  of  the  secret  of  its  policy.  "It  is  a  maxim  of  state  with  us,** 
Olivarcs  confessed,  as  the  Prince  deaianded  an  energetic  interference 
in  Germany,  "  that  the  King  of  Spain  must  never  fight  against  the 
Emperor.  We  cannot  employ  our  forces  against  the  Emperor."  "  If 
you  hold  to  that,"  replied  the  Prince,  "  there  is  an  end  of  all." 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


495 


His  return  was  the  signal  for  a  burst  of  national  joy.  All  London 
was  alight  with  bonfires,  in  her  joy  at  the  failure  of  the  Spanish  match, 
and  of  the  collapse,  humiliating  as  it  was,  of  the  policy  which  had  so 
long  trailed  English  honour  at  the  chariot-wheels  of  Spain.  Charles 
returned  to  take  along  with  Buckingham  the  direction  of  affairs  out  of 
his  father's  hands.  The  journey  to  Madrid  had  revealed  to  those  around 
him  the  strange  mixture  of  obstinacy  and  weakness  in  the  Prince's 
character,  the  duplicity  which  lavished  promises  because  it  never  pur- 
posed to  be  bound  by  any,  the  petty  pride  that  subordinated  every 
poHtical  consideration  to  personal  vanity  or  personal  pique.  He  had 
granted  demand  after  demand,  till  the  very  Spaniards  lost  faith  in  his 
concessions.  With  rage  in  his  heart  at  the  failure  of  his  efforts,  he 
had  renewed  his  betrothal  on  the  very  eve  of  his  departure,  only  that  he 
might  insult  the  Infanta  by  its  withdrawal  when  he  was  safe  at  home. 
But  to  England  at  large  the  baser  features  of  his  character  were  still 
unknown.  The  stately  reserve,  the  personal  dignity  and  decency  of 
manners  which  distinguished  the  Prince,  contrasted  favourably  with  the 
gabble  and  indecorum  of  his  father.  The  courtiers  indeed  who  saw  him 
in  his  youth,  would  often  pray  God  that  "he  might  be  in  the  right  way 
when  he  was  set ;  for  if  he  was  in  the  wrong  he  would  prove  the  most 
wilful  of  any  king  that  ever  reii^ned."  But  the  nation  was  willing  to 
take  his  obstinacy  for  firmness  ;  as  it  took  the  pique  which  inspired  his 
course  on  his  return  for  patriotism  and  for  the  promise  of  a  nobler  rule. 
Under  the  pressure  of  Charles  and  Buckingham  the  King  was  forced  to 
call  a  Parliament,  and  to  concede  the  point  on  which  he  had  broken 
with  the  last,  by  laying  before  it  the  whole  question  of  the  Sp:.nish 
negotiations.  Buckingham  and  the  Prince  gave  their  personal  support 
to  Parliament  in  its  demand  for  a  rupture  of  the  treaties  with  Spain  and 
a  declaration  of  war.  A  subsidy  was  eagerly  voted  ;  the  persecution  of 
the  Catholics,  which  had  long  been  suspended  out  of  deference  to  Spanish 
intervention,  begin  with  new  vigour.  The  head  of  the  Spanish  party, 
Cranfield,  Earl  of  Middlesex,  the  Lord  Treasurer,  was  impeached  on  a 
charge  of  corruption,  and  dismissed  from  office.  James  was  swept  along 
helplessly  by  the  tide  ;  but  his  shrewdness  saw  clearly  the  turn  that 
affairs  were  taking  ;  and  it  was  only  by  hard  pressure  that  the  favourite 
succeeded  in  wresting  his  consent  to  the  disgrace  of  Middlesex.  "  You 
are  making  a  rod  for  your  own  back,"  said  the  King.  But  Buckingham 
and  Charles  persisted  in  their  plans  of  war.  A  treaty  of  alliance  was 
concluded  with  Holland  ;  negotiations  were  begun  with  the  Lutheran 
Princes  of  North  Germany,  who  had  looked  coolly  on  at  the  ruin  of  the 
Elector  Palatine  ;  an  alliance  with  France  was  proposed,  and  the 
marriage  of  Charles  with  Henrietta,  a  daughter  of  Henry  the  Fourth 
of  France,  and  sister  of  its  King.  To  restore  the  triple  league  was  to 
restore  the  system  of  Elizabeth  ;  but  the  first  whispers  of  a  Catholic 
Queen  woke  opposition  in  the  Commons.     At  this  juncture  the  death 


496 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  111. 
The  King 

AND   THE 

Parlia- 
ment 

1623 

TO 

1629 

The 
Policy  of 
Charles 


Auf^.  1625 


of  the  King  placed  Charles  upon  the  throne  ;  and  his  first  Parliament 
met  in  May,  1625.  "  We  can  hope  everything  from  the  King  who  now 
governs  us,"  cried  Sir  Benjamin  Rudyerd  in  the  Commons.  But  there 
were  cooler  heads  in  the  Commons  than  Sir  Benjamin  Rudyerd's  ; 
and  enough  had  taken  place  in  the  few  months  since  its  last  session  to 
temper  its  loyalty  with  caution. 

The  war  with  Spain,  it  must  be  remembered,  meant  to  the  mass  of 
Englishmen  a  war  with  Catholicism  ;  and  the  fervour  against  Catho- 
licism without  roused  a  corresponding  fervour  against  Catholicism 
within  the  realm.  Every  English  Catholic  seemed  to  Protestant  eyes 
an  enemy  at  home.  A  Protestant  who  leant  towards  Catholic  usage 
or  dogma  was  a  secret  traitor  in  the  ranks.  But  it  was  suspected,  and 
suspicion  was  soon  to  be  changed  into  certainty,  that  in  spite  of  his 
pledge  to  make  no  religious  concessions  to  France,  Charles  had  on 
his  marriage  promised  to  relax  the  penal  laws  against  Catholics,  and 
that  a  foreign  power  had  again  been  given  the  right  of  intermeddling 
in  the  civil  affairs  of  the  realm.  And  it  was  to  men  with  Catholic 
leanings  that  Charles  seemed  disposed  to  show  favour.  Bishop  Laud 
was  recognized  as  the  centre  of  that  varied  opposition  to  Puritanism, 
whose  members  were  loosely  grouped  under  the  name  of  Arminians  ; 
and  Laud  now  became  the  King's  adviser  in  ecclesiastical  matters. 
With  Laud  at  its  head  the  new  party  grew  in  boldness  as  well  as 
numbers.  It  naturally  sought  for  shelter  for  its  religious  opinions  by 
exalting  the  power  of  the  Crown.  A  court  favourite,  Montague,  ventured 
to  slight  the  Reformed  Churches  of  the  Continent  in  favour  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  and  to  advocate  as  the  faith  of  the  Church  the  very  doctrines 
rejected  by  the  Calvinists.  The  temper  of  the  Commons  on  religious 
matters  was  clear  to  every  observer.  "  Whatever  mention  does  break 
forth  of  the  fears  or  dangers  in  religion,  and  the  increase  of  Poper>'," 
wrote  a  member  who  was  noting  the  proceedings  of  the  House,  "their 
affections  are  much  stirred."  Their  first  act  was  to  summon  Montague 
to  the  bar  and  to  commit  him  to  prison.  But  there  were  other  grounds 
for  their  distrust  besides  the  King's  ecclesiastical  tendency.  The  con- 
ditions on  which  the  last  subsidy  had  been  granted  for  war  with  Spain 
had  been  contemptuously  set  aside  ;  in  his  request  for  a  fresh  grant 
Charles  neither  named  a  sum  nor  gave  any  indication  of  what  war  it 
was  to  support.  His  reserve  was  met  by  a  corresponding  caution. 
While  voting  a  small  and  inadequate  subsidy,  the  Commons  restricted 
their  grant  of  certain  customs  duties  called  tonnage  and  poundage, 
which  had  commonly  been  granted  to  the  new  sovereign  for  life,  to 
a  single  year,  so  as  to  give  time  for  consideration  of  the  additional 
impositions  laid  by  James  on  these  duties.  The  restriction  was  taken 
as  an  insult ;  Charles  refused  to  accept  the  grant  on  such  a  condition, 
and  adjourned  the  Houses.  When  they  met  again  at  O.vford  it  was 
in  a  sterner  temper,  for  Charles  had  shown  his  defiance  of  Parliament 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


497 


by  drawing  Montague  from  prison,  by  promoting  him  to  a  royal  chap- 
laincy, and  by  levying  the  disputed  customs  without  authority  of  law. 
"  England,"  cried  Sir  Robert  Phelips,  "  is  the  last  monarchy  that  yet 
retains  her  liberties.  Let  them  not  perish  now  !  "  But  the  Commons 
had  no  sooner  announced  their  resolve  to  consider  public  grievances 
before  entering  on  other  business  than  they  were  met  by  a  dissolution. 
Buckingham,  to  whom  the  firmness  of  the  Commons  seemed  simply  the 
natural  discontent  which  follows  on  ill  success,  resolved  to  lure  them 
from  thcirconstitutional  struggle  bya  great  military  triumph.  His  hands 
were  no  sooner  free  than  he  sailed  for  the  Hague  to  conclude  a  general 
alliance  against  the  House  of  Austria,  while  a  fleet  of  ninety  vessels  and 
ten  thousand  soldiers  left  Plymouth  in  October  for  the  coast  of  Spain. 
But  these  vast  projects  broke  down  before  Buckingham's  administrative 
incapacity.  The  plan  of  aUiance  proved  fruitless.  After  an  idle  descent 
on  Cadiz  the  Spanish  expedition  returned  broken  with  mutiny  and 
disease  ;  and  the  enormous  debt  which  had  been  incurred  in  its 
equipaient  forced  the  favourite  to  advise  a  new  summons  of  the 
Houses.  But  he  was  keenly  alive  to  the  peril  in  which  his  failure  had 
plunged  him,  and  to  a  coalition  which  had  been  formed  between  his 
rivals  at  Court  and  the  leaders  of  the  last  Parliament.  His  reckless 
daring  led  him  to  anticipate  the  danger,  and  by  a  series  of  blows  to 
strike  terror  into  his  opponents.  The  Councillors  were  humbled  by 
the  committal  of  Lord  Arundel  to  the  Tower.  Sir  Robert  Phelips, 
Coke,  and  four  other  leading  patriots  were  made  sheriffs  of  their 
counties,  and  thus  prevented  from  sitting  in  the  coming  Parliament. 
But  their  exclusion  only  left  the  field  free  for  a  more  terrible  foe. 

If  Hampden  and  Pym  are  the  great  figures  which  embody  the  later 
national  resistance,  the  earlier  struggle  for  Parliamentary  liberty 
centres  in  the  figure  of  Sir  John  Eliot.  Of  an  old  family  which  had 
settled  under  Elizabeth  near  the  fishing  hamlet  of  St.  Germans, 
and  raised  their  stately  mansion  of  Port  Eliot,  he  had  risen  to  the 
post  of  Vice-Admiral  of  Devonshire  under  the  patronage  of  Buck- 
ingham, and  had  seen  his  activity  in  the  suppression  of  piracy  in  the 
Channel  rewarded  by  an  unjust  imprisonment.  He  was  now  in  the 
first  vigour  of  manhood,  with  a  mind  exquisitely  cultivated  and  familiar 
with  the  poetry  and  learning  of  his  day,  a  nature  singularly  lofty  and 
devout,  a  fearless  and  vehement  temper.  There  was  a  hot  impulsive 
element  in  his  nature  which  showed  itself  in  youth  in  his  drawing 
sword  on  a  neighbour  who  denounced  him  to  his  father,  and  which  in 
later  years  gave  its  characteristic  fire  to  his  eloquence.  But  his  intellect 
was  as  clear  and  cool  as  his  temper  was  ardent.  In  the  general  enthu- 
siasm which  followed  on  the  failure  of  the  Spanish  marriage,  he  had 
stood  almost  alone  in  pressing  for  a  recognition  of  the  rights  of  Parlia- 
ment, as  a  preliminary  to  any  real  reconciliation  with  the  Crown.  He 
fixed,  from  the  very  outset  of  his  career,  on  the  responsibility  of  the  royal 


498 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ministers  to  Parliament,  as  the  one  critical  point  for  English  liberty.  It 
was  to  enforce  the  demand  of  this  that  he  availed  himself  of  Bucking- 
ham's sacrifice  of  the  Treasurer,  Middlesex,  to  the  resentment  of  the 
Commons.  "  The  greater  the  delinquent,"  he  urged,  "  the  greater  the 
delict.  They  are  a  happy  thing,  great  men  and  officers,  if  they  be  good, 
and  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  of  the  land  :  but  power  converted  into 
evil  is  the  greatest  curse  that  can  befall  it."  But  the  new  Parliament  had 
hardly  met,  when  he  came  to  the  front  to  threaten  a  greater  criminal 
than  Middlesex.  So  menacing  were  his  words,  as  he  called  for  an  inquiry 
into  the  failure  before  Cadiz,  t'lat  Charles  himself  stooped  to  answer 
threat  with  threat.  "  I  see,"  he  wrote  to  the  House,  "you  especially 
aim  at  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  I  must  let  you  know  that  I  will  not 
allow  any  of  my  servants  to  be  questioned  among  you,  much  less  such 
as  are  of  e.ninent  place  and  near  to  me."  A  more  direct  attack  on 
a  right  already  acknowledged  in  the  impeachment  of  Bacon  and  Mid- 
dlesex could  hardly  be  imagined,  but  Eliot  refused  to  move  from  his 
constitutional  ground.  The  King  was  by  law  irresponsible,  he  "  could 
do  no  wrong."  If  the  country  therefore  was  to  be  saved  from  a  pure 
despotism,  it  must  be  by  enforcing  the  responsibility  of  the  ministers 
who  counselled  and  executed  his  acts.  Eliot  persisted  in  denouncing 
Buckingham's  incompetence  and  corruption,  and  the  Commons  ordered 
the  subsidy  which  the  Crown  had  demanded  to  be  brought  in  "  when 
we  shall  have  presented  our  grievances,  and  received  his  Majesty's 
answer  thereto."  Charles  summoned  them  to  Whitehall,  and  com- 
manded them  to  cancel  the  condition.  He  would  grant  them  "  liberty 
of  counsel,  but  not  of  control  ;"  and  he  closed  the  interview  with  a 
significant  threat.  "Remember,"  he  said,  "that  Parliaments  are 
altogether  in  my  power  for  their  calling,  sitting,  and  dissolution  ;  and, 
therefore,  as  I  find  the  fruits  of  them  to  be  good  or  evil,  they  are  to 
continue  or  not  to  be."  But  the  will  of  the  Commons  was  as  resolute 
as  the  will  of  the  King.  Buckingham's  impeachment  was  voted  and 
carried  to  the  Lords.  The  favourite  took  his  seat  as  a  peer  to  listen 
to  the  charge  with  so  insolent  an  air  of  contempt  that  one  of  the 
managers  appointed  by  the  Commons  to  conduct  it  turned  shari  ly  on 
him.  "Do  you  jeer,  my  Lord  ! "  said  Sir  Dudley  Digges.  "I  can 
show  you  when  a  greater  man  than  your  Lordship — as  high  as  you  in 
place  and  power,  and  as  deej)  in  the  King's  favour — has  been  hanged 
for  as  small  a  c  rime  as  these  articles  cont  lin."  The  "  proud  carriage" 
of  the  Duke  provoked  an  invective  from  Eliot  which  marks  a  new  era 
in  Parliamentary  speech.  From  the  first  the  vehemence  and  passion 
of  his  words  had  contrasted  with  the  grave,  colourless  reasoning  of 
older  speakers.  His  opponents  complained  that  Eliot  aimed  to  "stir 
up  afTcctions."  The  quick  emphatic  sentences  he  substituted  for  the 
cumbrous  periods  of  the  day,  his  rapid  argument,  his  vivacious  and 
caustic  allusions,  his  passionate  appeals,  his  fearless  invective,  struck 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


499 


a  new  note  in  English  eloquence.  The  frivolous  ostentation  of 
Buckingham,  his  very  figure  blazing  with  jewels  and  gold,  gave  point 
to  the  fierce  attack.  "  He  has  broken  those  nerves  and  sinews  of  our 
land,  the  stores  and  treasures  of  the  King.  There  needs  no  search  for 
it.  It  is  too  visible.  His  profuse  expenses,  his  superfluous  feasts,  his 
magnificent  buildings,  his  riots,  his  excesses,  what  are  they  but  the 
visible  evidences  of  an  express  exhausting  of  the  State,  a  chronicle  of 
the  immensity  of  his  waste  of  the  revenues  of  the  Crown  ?  "  With  the 
same  terrible  directness  Eliot  reviewed  the  Duke's  greed  and  corrup- 
tion, his  insatiate  ambition,  his  seizure  of  all  public  authority,  his 
neglect  of  every  public  duty,  his  abuse  for  selfish  ends  of  the  powers 
he  had  accumulated.  "  The  pleasure  of  his  Majesty,  his  known  direc- 
tions, his  public  acts,  his  acts  of  council,  the  decrees  of  courts— all 
must  be  made  inferior  to  this  man's  will.  No  right,  no  interest  may 
withstand  him.  Through  the  power  of  state  and  justice  he  has  dared 
ever  to  strike  at  his  own  ends."  "  My  Lords,"  he  ended,  after  a  vivid 
parallel  between  Buckingham  and  Sejanus,  "  you  see  the  man  !  What 
have  been  his  actions,  what  he  is  like,  you  know  !  I  leave  him  to  your 
judgment.  This  only  is  conceived  by  us,  the  knights,  citizens,  and 
burgesses  of  the  Commons  House  of  Parliament,  that  by  him  came 
all  our  evils,  in  him  we  find  the  causes,  and  on  him  must  be  the 
remedies  !  Pereat  qui  perdere  cuncta  festinat.  Opprimatur  ne  omnes 
opprimat  ! " 

The  reply  of  Charles  was  as  fierce  and  sudden  as  the  attack  of  Eliot. 
He  hurried  to  the  House  of  Peers  to  avow  as  his  own  the  deeds  with 
which  Buckingham  was  charged.  Eliot  and  Digges  were  called  from 
their  seats,  and  committed  prisoners  to  the  Tower.  The  Commons, 
however,  refused  to  proceed  with  public  business  till  their  members 
were  restored  ;  and  after  a  ten-days'  struggle  Eliot  was  released.  But 
his  release  was  only  a  prelude  to  the  close  of  the  Parliament.  "  Not 
one  moment,"  the  King  replied  to  the  prayer  of  his  Council  for  delay ; 
and  a  final  remonstrance  in  which  the  Commons  begged  him  to  dis- 
miss Buckingham  from  his  service  for  ever  was  met  by  their  instant 
dissolution.  The  remonstrance  was  burnt  by  royal  order  ;  Eliot  was 
deprived  of  his  Vice-Admiralty  ;  and  an  appeal  was  made  to  the 
nation  to  pay  as  a  free  gift  the  subsidies  which  the  Parliament  had 
refused  to  grant  till  their  grievances  were  redressed.  But  the  tide  ol 
public  resistance  was  slowly  rising.  Refusals  to  give  anything,  "  save 
by  way  of  Parliament,"  came  in  from  county  after  county.  When  the 
subsidy-men  of  Middlesex  and  Westminster  were  urged  to  comply, 
they  answered  with  a  tumultuous  shout  of  "a  Parliament  !  a  Parlia- 
ment !  else  no  subsidies  !  "  Kent  stood  out  to  a  man.  In  Bucks  the 
very  justices  neglected  to  ask  for  the  "  free  gift."  The  freeholders  of 
Cornwall  only  answered  that,  "  if  they  had  but  two  kine,  they  would 
sell  one  of  them   for   supply   to   his   Majesty— in    a   Parliamentary 


500 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


way."  The  failure  of  the  voluntar>'  gift  forced  Charles  to  an  open 
defiance  of  the  law.  He  met  it  by  the  levy  of  a  forced  loan.  Com- 
missioners were  named  to  assess  the  amount  which  every  landowner 
was  bound  to  lend,  and  to  examine  on  oath  all  who  refused.  Every 
means  of  persuasion,  as  of  force,  was  resorted  to.  The  pulpits  of  the 
Laudian  clergy  resounded  with  the  cry  of  "  passive  obedience."  Dr. 
Mainwaring  preached  before  Charles  himself,  that  the  King  needed  no 
Parliamentary  warrant  for  taxation,  and  that  to  resist  his  will  was  to 
incur  eternal  damnation.  Poor  men  who  refused  to  lend  were  pressed 
into  the  army  or  navy.  Stubborn  tradesmen  were  flung  into  prison- 
Buckingham  himself  undertook  the  task  of  overawing  the  nobles  and 
the  gentry.  Charles  met  the  opposition  of  the  judges  by  instantly  dis- 
missing from  his  office  the  Chief  Justice,  Crew.  But  in  the  country  at 
large  resistance  was  universal.  The  northern  counties  in  a  mass  set  the 
Crown  at  defiance.  The  Lincolnshire  farmers  drove  the  Commissioners 
from  the  town.  Shropshire,  Devon,  and  Warwickshire  "  refused 
utterly."  Eight  peers,  with  Lord  Essex  and  Lord  Warwick  at  their 
head,  declined  to  comply  with  the  exaction  as  illegal.  Two  hundred 
country  gentlemen,  whose  obstinacy  had  not  been  subdued  by  their 
transfer  from  prison  to  prison,  were  summoned  before  the  Council ; 
and  John  Hampden,  as  yet  only  a  young  Buckinghamshire  squire, 
appeared  at  the  board  to  begin  that  career  of  patriotism  which  has 
made  his  name  dear  to  Englishmen.  "  I  could  be  content  to  lend," 
he  said,  "  but  fear  to  draw  on  myself  that  curse  in  Magna  Charta,  which 
should  be  read  twice  a  year  against  those  who  infringe  it."  So  close 
an  imprisonment  in  the  Gate  House  rewarded  his  protest,  "  that  he 
never  afterwards  did  look  like  the  same  man  he  was  before."  With 
gathering  discontent  as  well  as  bankruptcy  before  him,  nothing  could 
save  the  Duke  but  a  great  military  success  ;  and  he  equipped  a  force 
of  six  thousand  men  for  the  maddest  and  most  profligate  of  all  his 
enterprises.  In  the  great  struggle  with  Catholicism  the  hopes  of  every 
Protestant  rested  on  the  union  of  England  with  France  against  the 
House  of  Austria.  But  the  blustering  and  blundering  of  the  favourite 
had  at  last  succeeded  in  plunging  him  into  strife  with  his  own  allies, 
and  England  now  suddenly  found  herself  at  war  with  France  and 
Spain  together.  The  French  minister,  Cardinal  Richelieu,  anxious 
as  he  was  to  maintain  the  English  alliance,  was  convinced  that  the 
first  step  to  any  effective  interference  of  France  in  a  European  war 
must  be  the  restoration  of  order  at  home  by  the  complete  reduction 
of  the  Protestant  town  of  Rochelle  which  had  risen  in  revolt.  In 
1625  English  aid  had  been  given  to  the  French  forces,  however  reluct- 
antly. But  now  Buckingham  saw  his  way  to  win  an  easy  popularity 
at  home  by  supporting  the  Huguenots  in  their  resistance.  The  entnu- 
siasm  for  their  cause  was  intense  ;  and  he  resolved  to  take  advantage 
of  this  enthusiasm  to  secure  such  a  triumph  for  the  royal  arms  as 


VIII. J 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


501 


should  silence  all  opposition  at  home.  A  fleet  of  a  hundred  vessels 
sailed  under  his  command  for  the  relief  of  Rochelle.  But  imposing 
as  was  his  force,  the  expedition  was  as  disastrous  as  it  was  impolitic. 
After  an  unsuccessful  siege  of  the  castle  of  St.  Martin,  the  English 
troops  were  forced  to  fall  back  along  a  narrow  causeway  to  their 
ships  ;  and  in  the  retreat  two  thousand  fell,  without  the  loss  of  a  single 
man  to  their  enemies. 

The  first  result  of  Buckingham's  folly  was  to  force  on  Charles,  over- 
whelmed as  he  was  with  debt  and  shame,  the  summoning  of  a  new 
Parliament  ;  a  Parliament  which  met  in  a  mood  even  more  resolute 
than  the  last.  The  Court  candidates  were  everywhere  rejected.  The 
patriot  leaders  were  triumphantly  returned.  To  have  suffered  in  the 
recent  resistance  to  arbitrary  taxation  was  the  sure  road  to  a  seat.  In 
spite  of  Eliot's  counsel,  even  the  question  of  Buckingham's  removal 
gave  place  to  the  craving  for  redress  of  wrongs  done  to  personal  liberty. 
"  We  must  vindicate  our  ancient  liberties,"  said  Sir  Thomas  Wentworth, 
in  words  soon  to  be  remembered  against  himself  :  "  we  must  reinforce 
the  laws  made  by  our  ancestors.  We  must  set  such  a  stamp  upon  them, 
as  no  licentious  spirit  shall  dare  hereafter  to  invade  them."  Heedle  s 
of  sharp  and  menacing  messages  from  the  King,  of  demands  that  they 
should  take  his  "  royal  word"  for  their  liberties,  the  House  bent  itself 
to  one  great  work,  the  drawing  up  a  Petition  of  Right.  The  statutes 
that  protected  the  subject  against  arbitrary  taxation,  against  loans  and 
benevolences,  against  punishment,  outlawry,  or  deprivation  of  goods, 
otherwise  than  by  lawful  judgment  of  his  peers,  against  arbitrary 
imprisonment  without  stated  charge,  against  billeting  of  soldiery  on  the 
people  or  enactment  of  martial  law  in  time  of  peace,  were  formally 
recited.  The  breaches  of  them  under  the  last  two  sovereigns,  and 
above  all  since  the  dissolution  of  the  last  Parliament,  were  recited  as 
formally.  At  the  close  of  ihis  significant  list,  the  Commons  prayed 
"  that  no  man  hereafter  be  compelled  to  make  or  yield  any  gift,  loan, 
benevolence,  tax,  or  such  like  charge,  without  common  consent  by  Act 
of  Parliament.  And  that  none  be  called  to  make  answer,  or  to  take 
such  oaths,  or  to  be  confined  or  otherwise  molested  or  disputed  con- 
cerning the  same,  or  for  refusal  thereof.  And  that  no  freeman  may 
in  such  manner  as  is  before  mentioned  be  imprisoned  or  detained. 
And  that  your  Majesty  would  be  pleased  to  remove  the  said  soldiers 
and  mariners,  and  that  your  people  may  not  be  so  burthened  in  time 
to  come.  And  that  the  commissions  for  proceeding  by  martial  law 
may  be  revoked  and  annulled,  and  that  hereafter  no  commissions  of 
like  nature  may  issue  forth  to  any  person  or  persons  whatsoever  to  be 
executed  as  aforesaid,  lest  by  colour  of  them  any  of  your  Majesty's 
subjects  be  destroyed  and  put  to  death,  contrary  to  the  laws  and 
franchises  of  the  land.  All  which  they  humbly  pray  of  your  most 
excellent  Majesty,  as  their  rights  and  liberties,  according  to  the  laws 


503 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAF. 


and  statutes  of  the  realm.  And  that  your  Majesty  would  also 
vouchsafe  to  declare  that  the  awards,  doings,  and  proceedings  to  the 
prejudice  of  your  people  in  any  of  the  premisses  shall  not  be  drawn 
hereafter  into  consequence  or  example.  And  that  your  Majesty 
would  be  pleased  graciously  for  the  further  comfort  and  safety  of  your 
people  to  declare  your  royal  will  and  pleasure,  that  in  the  things 
aforesaid  all  your  officers  and  ministers  shall  serve  you  according  to 
the  laws  and  statutes  of  this  realm,  as  they  tender  the  honour  of  your 
Majesty  and  the  prosperity  of  the  kingdom."  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
Lords  desired  to  conciliate  Charles  by  a  reservation  of  his  "  sovereign 
power."  "  Our  petition,"  Pym  quietly  replied,  "  is  for  the  laws  of 
England,  and  this  power  seems  to  be  another  power  distinct  from 
the  power  of  the  law."  The  Lords  yielded,  but  Charles  gave  an 
evasive  reply  ;  and  the  failure  of  the  more  moderate  counsels  for 
which  his  own  had  been  set  aside,  called  Eliot  again  to  the  front. 
In  a  speech  of  unprecedented  boldness  he  moved  the  presentation 
to  the  King  of  a  Remonstrance  on  the  state  of  the  realm.  But 
at  the  moment  when  he  again  touched  on  Buckingham's  removal 
as  the  preliminary  of  any  real  improvement  the  Speaker  of  the 
House  interposed.  "There  was  a  command  laid  on  him,"  he  said, 
"to  interrupt  any  that  should  go  about  to  lay  an  aspersion  on  the 
King's  ministers."  The  breach  of  their  privilege  of  free  speech 
produced  a  scene  in  the  Commons  such  as  St.  Stephen's  had  never 
witnessed  before.  Eliot  sate  abruptly  down  amidst  the  solemn  silence 
of  the  House.  "  Then  appeared  such  a  spectacle  of  passions,"  says 
a  letter  of  the  time,  "  as  the  like  had  seldom  been  seer  in  such  an 
assembly  ;  some  weeping,  some  expostulating,  some  prophesying  of 
the  fatal  ruin  of  our  kingdom,  some  playing  the  divmes  in  confessing 
their  sins  and  country's  sins  which  drew  these  judgements  upon  us, 
some  finding,  as  it  were,  fault  with  those  that  wept.  There  were  above 
an  hundred  weeping  eyes,  many  who  offered  to  speak  being  interrupted 
and  silenced  by  their  own  passions."  Pym  himself  rose  only  to  sit 
down  choked  with  tears.  At  last  Sir  Edward  Coke  found  words  to 
blame  himself  for  the  timid  counsels  which  had  checked  Eliot  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Session,  and  to  protest  "that  the  author  and  source 
of  all  those  miseries  was  the  Duke  of  Buckingham." 

Shouts  of  assent  greeted  the  resolution  to  insert  the  Duke's  name  in 
their  Remonstrance.  But  at  this  moment  Charles  gave  way.  To  win 
sujjplies  for  a  new  expedition  to  Rochelle,  Buckingham  bent  the  King 
to  consent  to  the  Petition  of  Right.  As  Charles  understood  it,  indeed, 
the  consent  meant  little.  The  point  for  which  he  really  cared  was  the 
power  of  keeping  men  in  prison  without  bringing  them  to  trial  or 
assigning  causes  for  their  imprisonment  On  this  he  had  consulted 
his  ju(l|_^cs  ;  and  they  had  answered  that  his  consent  to  the  Petition 
left  his  rights  untouched  ;  like  other  laws,  they  said,  the  Petition  would 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


503 


have  to  be  interpreted  when  it  came  before  them,  and  the  prerogative 
remained  unaffected.  As  to  the  rest,  while  waiving  all  claim  to  levy  taxes 
not  granted  by  Parliament,  Charles  still  reserved  his  right  to  levy  impo- 
sitions paid  customarily  to  the  Crown,  and  amongst  these  he  counted 
tonnage  and  poundage.  Of  these  reserves  however  the  Commons  knew 
nothing.  The  King's  consent  won  a  grant  of  subsidy  from  the  Parliament, 
and  such  a  ringing  of  bells  and  lighting  of  bonfires  from  the  people  **  as 
were  never  seen  but  upon  his  majesty's  return  from  Spain."  But,  like 
all  Charles's  concessions,  it  came  too  late  to  effect  the  end  at  which  he 
aimed.  The  Commons  persisted  in  presenting  their  Remonstrance. 
Charles  received  it  coldly  and  ungraciously  ;  while  Buckingham,  who 
had  stood  defiantly  at  his  master's  side  as  he  was  denounced,  fell  on 
his  knees  to  speak.  "  No,  George  !  "  said  the  King  as  he  raised  him  ; 
and  his  demeanour  gave  emphatic  proof  that  the  Duke's  favour  re- 
mained undiminished.  "  We  will  perish  together,  George,"  he  added 
at  a  later  time,  "  if  thou  dost."  No  shadow  of  his  doom,  in  fact,  had 
fallen  over  the  brilliant  favourite,  when,  after  the  prorogation  of  the 
Parliament,  he  set  out  to  take  command  of  a  new  expedition  for  the 
relief  of  Rochelle.  But  a  lieutenant  in  the  army,  John  Felton,  soured 
by  neglect  and  wrongs,  had  found  in  the  Remonstrance  some  fancied 
sanction  for  the  revenge  he  plotted  ;  and,  mixing  with  the  throng 
which  crowded  the  hall  at  Portsmouth,  he  stabbed  Buckingham  to  the 
heart.  Charles  flung  himself  on  his  bed  in  a  passion  of  tears  when  the 
news  reached  him  ;  but  outside  the  Court  it  was  welcomed  with  a  burst 
of  joy.  Young  Oxford  bachelors,  grave  London  aldermen,  vied  with 
each  other  in  drinking  healths  to  Felton.  "  God  bless  thee,  little 
David,"  cried  an  old  woman,  as  the  murderer  passed  manacled  by  ; 
"  the  Lord  comfort  thee,"  shouted  the  crowd,  as  the  Tower  gates  closed 
on  him.  The  very  crews  of  the  Duke's  armament  at  Portsmouth 
shouted  to  the  King,  as  he  witnessed  their  departure,  a  prayer  that  he 
would  "  spare  John  Felton,  their  sometime  fellow  soldier."  But  what- 
ever national  hopes  the  fall  of  Buckingham  had  aroused  were  quickly 
dispelled.  Weston,  a  creature  of  the  Duke,  became  Lord  Treasurer, 
and  his  system  remained  unchanged.  "  Though  our  Achan  is  cut  off," 
said  Eliot,  "  the  accursed  thing  remains." 

It  seemed  as  if  no  act  of  Charles  could  widen  the  breach  which 
his  reckless  lawlessness  had  made  between  himself  and  his  subjects. 
But  there  was  one  thing  dearer  to  England  than  free  speech  in 
Parliament,  than  security  for  property,  or  even  personal  liberty  ;  and 
that  one  thing  was,  in  the  phrase  of  the  day, "  the  Gospel."  The  gloom 
which  at  the  outset  of  this  reign  we  saw  settling  down  on  every  Puritan 
heart  had  deepened  with  each  succeeding  year.  The  great  struggle 
abroad  had  gone  more  and  more  against  Protestantism,  and  at  this 
moment  the  end  of  the  cause  seemed  to  have  come.  In  Germany 
Lutheran  and  Calvinist  alike  lay  at  last  beneath  the  heel  of  the  Catholic 


S04 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[CHAP 


House  of  Austria.  The  fall  of  Rochelle  after  Buckingham's  death 
seemed  to  leave  the  Huguenots  of  France  at  the  feet  of  a  Roman 
Cardinal.  While  England  was  thrilling  with  excitement  at  the  thought 
that  her  own  hour  of  deadly  peril  might  come  again,  as  it  had  come 
in  the  year  of  the  Armada,  Charles  raised  Laud  to  the  Bishopric  of 
London,  and  entrusted  him  with  the  direction  of  ecclesiastical  affairs. 
To  the  excited  Protestantism  of  the  country,  Laud  and  the  Churchmen 
whom  he  headed  seemed  a  danger  really  more  formidable  than  the 
Popery  which  was  making  such  mighty  strides  abroad.  To  the  Puri- 
tans they  were  traitors  to  God  and  their  country  at  once.  Their  aim 
was  to  draw  the  Church  of  England  farther  away  from  the  Protestant 
Churches  and  nearer  to  the  Church  which  Protestants  regarded  as 
Babylon.  They  aped  Roman  ceremonies.  Cautiously  and  tentatively 
they  were  introducing  Roman  doctrine.  But  they  had  none  of  the 
sacerdotal  independence  which  Rome  had  at  any  rate  preserved. 
They  were  abject  in  their  dependence  on  the  Crown.  Their  gratitude 
for  the  royal  protection  which  enabled  them  to  defy  the  religious 
instincts  of  the  realm  showed  itself  in  their  erection  of  the  most 
dangerous  pretensions  of  the  monarchy  into  religious  dogmas. 
Archbishop  Whitgift  declared  James  to  have  been  inspired  by 
God.  They  preached  passive  obedience  to  the  worst  tyranny.  They 
declared  the  person  and  goods  of  the  subject  to  be  at  the  King's 
absolute  disposal.  They  were  turning  religion  into  a  systematic  attack 
on  English  liberty.  Up  to  this  time  they  had  been  little  more  than  a 
knot  of  courtly  ecclesiastics,  for  the  mass  of  the  clergy,  like  their  flocks, 
were  steady  Puritans  ;  but  the  energy  of  Laud,  and  the  patronage  of 
the  Court,  promised  a  speedy  increase  of  their  numbers  and  their 
power.  Sober  men  looked  forward  to  a  day  when  every  pulpit  would 
be  ringing  with  exhortations  to  passive  obedience,  with  denunciations 
of  Calvinism  and  apologies  for  Rome.  Of  all  the  members  of  the 
House  of  Commons  Eliot  was  least  fanatical  in  his  natural  bent,  but 
the  religious  crisis  swept  away  for  the  moment  all  other  thou^jhts  from 
his  mind.  "  Danger  enlarges  itself  in  so  great  a  measure,"  he  wrote 
from  the  country,  "  that  nothing  but  Heaven  shrouds  us  from  despair.*' 
The  House  met  in  the  same  temper.  The  first  business  called  up  was 
that  of  religion.  "The  Gospel,"  Eliot  burst  forth,  "is  that  Truth  in 
which  this  kingdom  has  been  happy  through  a  long  and  rare  prosperity. 
This  ground,  therefore,  let  us  lay  for  a  foundation  of  our  building,  that 
that  Truth,  not  with  words,  but  with  actions  we  will  maintain!" 
"  There  is  a  ceremony,"  he  went  on,  "  used  in  the  Eastern  Churches, 
of  standing  at  the  repetition  of  the  Creed,  to  testify  their  purpose  to 
maintain  it,  not  only  with  their  bodies  upright,  but  with  their  swords 
drawn.  Give  me  leave  to  call  that  a  custom  very  commendable ! " 
The  Commons  answered  their  leader's  challenge  by  a  solemn  avowal. 
They  avowed  that  they  held  for  truth  that  sense  of  the  Articles  as 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


505 


established  by  Parliament,  which  by  the  public  act  of  the  Church,  and 
the  general  and  current  exposition  of  the  writers  of  their  Church, 
had  been  delivered  unto  them.  But  the  debates  over  religion  were 
suddenly  interrupted.  The  Commons,  who  had  deferred  all  grant  of 
customs  till  the  wrong  done  in  the  illegal  levy  of  them  was  re- 
dressed, had  summoned  the  farmers  of  those  dues  to  the  bar  ;  but 
though  they  appeared,  they  pleaded  the  King's  command  as  a  ground 
for  their  refusal  to  answer.  The  House  was  proceeding  to  a  pro- 
test, when  the  Speaker  signified  that  he  had  received  an  order  to 
adjourn.  Dissolution  was  clearly  at  hand,  and  the  long-suppressed 
indignation  broke  out  in  a  scene  of  strange  disorder.  The  Speaker 
was  held  down  in  the  chair,  while  EHot,  still  clinging  to  his  great 
principle  of  ministerial  responsibihty,  denounced  the  new  Treasurer 
as  the  adviser  of  the  measure.  "  None  have  gone  about  to  break 
Parliaments,"  he  added  in  words  to  which  after  events  gave  a  terrible 
significance,  "  but  in  the  end  Parliaments  have  broken  them."  The 
doors  were  locked,  and  in  spite  of  the  Speaker's  protests,  of  the 
repeated  knocking  of  the  usher  at  the  door,  and  of  the  gathering 
tumult  within  the  House  itself,  the  loud  "  Aye,  Aye  "  of  the  bulk  of 
the  members  supported  Eliot  in  his  last  vindication  of  English  liberty. 
By  successive  resolutions  the  Commons  declared  whomsoever  should 
bring  in  innovations  in  religion,  or  whatever  minister  endorsed  the 
levy  of  subsidies  not  granted  in  Parliament,  "  a  capital  enemy  to  the 
kingdom  and  commonwealth,"  and  every  subject  voluntarily  complying 
with  illegal  acts  and  demands  "  a  betrayer  of  the  liberty  of  England 
and  an  enemy  of  the  same." 

Section  IV.  -New  England. 

^^Authorities. — The  admirable  account  of  American  colonization  given  by 
Mr.  Bancroft  ("  History  of  the  United  States  ")  may  be  corrected  in  some 
points  of  detail  by  Mr.  Gardiner's  History.  For  Laud  h  mself,  see  his  re- 
markable "  Diary "  and  his  Correspondence.  His  work  at  Lambeth  is 
described  in  Prynne's  scurrilous  **  Canterbury's  Doom."]  (Mr.  Doyle's  book 
"The  English  in  America"  has  appeared  since  this  list  was  drawn  up. — Ed.) 

The  dissolution  of  the  Parliament  of  1629  marked  the  darkest  hour 
of  Protestantism,  whether  in  England  or  in  the  world  at  large.  But  it 
was  in  this  hour  of  despair  that  the  Puritans  won  their  noblest 
triumph.  They  "turned,"  to  use  Canning's  words  in  a  far  truer  and 
grander  sense  than  that  which  he  gave  to  them,  they  "turned  to 
the  New  World  to  redress  the  balance  of  the  Old."  It  was  during  the 
years  of  tyranny  which  followed  the  close  of  the  third  Parliament  of 
Charles  that  a  great  Puritan  emigration  founded  the  States  of  New 
England. 

The  Puritans  were  far  from  being  the  earliest  among  the  English 
colonists  of  North  America.      There  was  little  in  the  circumstances 


5o6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


which  attended  the  first  discovery  of  the  Western  world  which  pro- 
mised well  for  freedom  ;  its  earliest  result,  indeed,  was  to  give  an 
enormous  impulse  to  the  most  bigoted  and  tyrannical  among  the 
powers  of  Europe,  and  to  pour  the  wealth  of  Mexico  and  Peru  into  the 
treasury  of  Spain.  But  while  the  Spanish  galleons  traversed  the 
Southern  seas,  and  Spanish  settlers  claimed  the  southern  part  of  the 
great  continent  for  the  Catholic  crown,  a  happy  instinct  drew  English- 
men to  the  ruder  and  more  barren  districts  along  the  shore  of 
Northern  America.  England  had  reached  the  mainland  even  earlier 
than  Spain,  for  before  Columbus  touched  its  shores  Sebastian  Cabot, 
a  seaman  of  Genoese  blood  born  and  bred  in  England,  sailed  with  an 
English  crew  from  Bristol  in  1497,  and  pushed  along  the  coast  of 
America  to  the  south  as  far  as  Florida,  and  northward  as  high  as 
Hudson's  Bay.  But  no  Englishman  followed  on  the  track  of  this  bold 
adventurer  ;  and  while  Spain  built  up  her  empire  in  the  New  World, 
the  English  seamen  reaped  a  humbler  harvest  in  the  fisheries  of 
Newfoundland.  It  was  not  till  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  that  the  thoughts 
of  Englishmen  turned  again  to  the  New  World.  Thedrean  of  finding 
a  passage  to  Asia  by  a  voyage  round  the  northern  coast  of  the  American 
continent  drew  a  west-country  seaman,  Martin  Frobishcr,  to  the  coast 
of  Labrador,  and  the  news  which  he  brought  back  of  the  existence  of 
gold  mines  there  set  adventurers  cruising  among  the  icebergs  of 
Baffin's  Bay.  Luckily  the  quest  of  gold  proved  a  vain  one  ;  and  the 
nobler  spirits  among  those  who  had  engaged  in  it  turned  to  plans  of 
colonization.  But  the  country,  vexed  by  long  winters  and  thinly 
peopled  by  warlike  tribes  of  Indians,  gave  a  rough  welcome  to  the 
earlier  colonists.  After  a  fruitless  attempt  to  form  a  settlement.  Sir 
Humphry  Gilbert,  one  of  the  noblest  spirits  of  his  time,  turned  home- 
wards again,  to  find  his  fate  in  the  stormy  seas.  "  We  are  as  near  to 
Heaven  by  sea  as  by  land,"  were  the  famous  words  he  was  heard  to 
utter,  ere  the  light  of  his  little  bark  was  lost  for  ever  in  the  darkness 
of  the  night.  An  expedition  sent  by  his  half-brother.  Sir  Walter 
Ralegh,  explored  Pamlico  Sound  ;  and  the  country  they  discovered, 
a  country  where,  in  their  poetic  fancy,  "  men  lived  after  the  manner 
of  the  Golden  Age,"  received  from  Elizabeth,  the  Virgin  Queen,  the 
name  of  Virginia.  The  introduction  of  tobacco  and  of  the  potato  into 
Europe  dates  from  Ralegh's  discovery  ;  but  the  energy  of  his  settlers 
was  distracted  by  the  delusive  dream  of  gold,  the  hostility  of  the  native 
tribes  drove  them  from  the  coast,  and  it  is  through  the  gratitude  of 
later  times  for  what  he  strove  to  do,  rather  than  for  what  he  did,  that 
Raleigh,  the  capital  of  N  orth  Carolina,  preserves  his  name.  The  first 
permanent  settlement  on  the  Chesapeake  was  effected  in  the  beginning 
of  the  reign  of  James  the  F'irst,  and  its  success  was  due  to  the  convic- 
tion of  the  settlers  that  the  secret  of  the  New  World's  conquest  lay 
simply  in  labour.  Among  the  hundred  and  five  colonists  who  originally 


Bu»»*ll  4  Slrutt.»r.  ^.T. 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


507 


landed,  forty-eight  were  gentlemen,  and  only  twelve  were  tillers  of  the 
soil.  Their  leader,  John  Smith,  however,  not  only  explored  the  vast 
bay  of  Chesapeake  and  discovered  the  Potomac  and  the  Susquehannah, 
but  held  the  little  company  together  in  the  face  of  famine  and  desertion 
till  the  colonists  had  learnt  the  lesson  of  toil.  In  his  letters  to  the 
colonizers  at  home  he  set  resolutely  aside  the  dream  of  gold.  "  Nothing 
is  to  be  expected  thence,"  he  wrote  of  the  new  country,  "but  by 
labour  ;  "  and  supplies  of  labourers,  aided  by  a  wise  allotment  of  lands 
to  each  colonist,  secured  after  five  years  of  struggle  the  fortunes  of 
Virginia.  "  Men  fell  to  building  houses  and  planting  corn  ;  "  the  very 
streets  of  Jamestown,  as  their  capital  was  called  from  the  reigning 
sovereign,  were  sown  with  tobacco  ;  and  in  fifteen  years  the  colony 
numbered  five  thousand  souls. 

The  laws  and  representative  institutions  of  England  were  first  intro- 
duced into  the  New  World  in  the  settlement  of  Virginia  :  some  years 
later  a  principle  as  unknown  to  England  as  it  was  to  the  greater  part 
of  Europe  found  its  home  in  another  colony,  which  received  its  name 
of  Maryland  from  Henrietta  Maria,  the  Queen  of  Charles  the  First. 
Calvert,  Lord  Baltimore,  one  of  the  best  of  the  Stuart  counsellors, 
was  forced  by  his  conversion  to  Catholicism  to  seek  a  shelter  for 
himself  and  colonists  of  his  new  faith  in  the  district  across  the  Potomac, 
and  round  the  head  of  the  Chesapeake.  As  a  purely  Catholic  settle- 
ment was  impossible,  he  resolved  to  open  the  new  colony  to  men  of 
every  faith.  "No  person  within  this  province,"  ran  the  earliest 
law  of  Maryland,  "  professing  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  shall  be  in 
any  ways  troubled,  molested,  or  discountenanced  for  his  or  her 
rehgion,  or  in  the  free  e  ercise  thereof."  Long  however  before  Lord 
Baltimore's  settlement  in  Maryland,  only  a  few  years  indeed  after 
the  settlement  of  Smith  in  Virginia,  the  church  of  Brownist  or  Inde- 
pendent refugees,  whom  we  saw  driven  in  the  reign  of  James  to 
Amsterdam,  had  resolved  to  quit  Holland  and  find  a  home  in  the 
wilds  of  the  New  World.  They  were  little  disheartened  by  the  tidings 
of  suffering  which  came  from  the  Virginian  settlement.  "  We  are  well 
weaned,"  wrote  their  minister,  John  Robinson,  "from  the  delicate 
milk  of  the  mother-country,  and  inured  to  the  difficulties  of  a  strange 
land  :  the  people  are  industrious  and  frugal.  We  are  knit  together 
as  a  body  in  a  most  sacred  covenant  of  the  Lord,  of  the  violation 
whereof  we  make  great  conscience,  and  by  virtue  whereof  we  hold 
ourselves  strictly  tied  to  all  care  of  each  other's  good  and  of  the  whole. 
It  is  not  with  us  as  with  men  whom  small  things  can  discourage." 
Returning  from  Holland  to  Southampton,  they  started  in  two  small 
vessels  for  the  new  land :  but  one  of  these  soon  put  back,  and  only 
its  companion,  the  Mayfiowery  a  bark  of  a  hundred  and  eighty  tons, 
with  forty-one  emigrants  and  their  families  on  board,  persisted  in  pro- 
secuting its  voyage.     The  little  company  of  the  "  Pilgrim  Fathers,"  as 


5o8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.   IV. 


England 


The 
Puritan 
Emigra- 
tion 


1629 


1630 


after-times  loved  to  call  them,  landed  on  the  barren  coast  of  Massa- 
chusetts at  a  spot  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  Plymouth,  in 
memory  of  the  last  English  port  at  which  they  touched.  They  had 
soon  to  face  the  long  hard  winter  of  the  north,  to  bear  sickness 
and  famine  :  even  when  these  years  of  toil  and  suffering  had  parsed 
there  was  a  time  when  "  they  knew  not  at  night  where  to  have  a  bit  in 
the  morning."  Resolute  and  industrious  as  they  were,  their  progress 
was  very  slow  ;  and  at  the  end  of  ten  years  they  numbered  only  three 
hundred  souls.  But  small  as  it  was,  the  colony  was  now  firmly  esta- 
blished and  the  struggle  for  mere  existence  was  oveV.  "  Let  it  not  be 
grievous  unto  you,"  some  of  their  brethren  had  written  from  England 
to  the  poor  emigrants  in  the  midst  of  their  sufferings,  "  that  you  have 
been  instrumental  to  break  the  ice  for  others.  The  honour  shall  be 
yours  to  the  world's  end." 

From  the  moment  of  their  establishment  the  eyes  of  the  English 
Puritans  were  fixed  on  the  little  Puritan  settlement  in  North  America. 
Through  the  early  years  of  Charles  projects  were  canvassed  for  a  new 
settlement  beside  the  little  Plymouth  ;  and  the  aid  which  the  mer- 
chants of  Boston  in  Lincolnshire  gave  to  the  realization  of  this  project 
was  acknowledged  in  the  name  of  its  capital.  At  the  moment  when 
he  was  dissolving  his  third  Parliament,  Charles  granted  the  charter 
which  established  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  ;  and  by  the  Puritans  at 
large  the  grant  was  at  once  regarded  as  a  Providential  call.  Out  of 
the  failure  of  their  great  constitutional  struggle,  and  the  pressing 
danger  to  "godliness"  in  England,  rose  the  dream  of  a  land  in  the 
West  where  religion  and  liberty  could  find  a  safe  and  lasting  home. 
The  Parliament  was  hardly  dissolved,  when  "conclusions"  for  the 
establishment  of  a  great  colony  on  the  other  side  the  Atlantic  were 
circulating  among  gentry  and  traders,  and  descriptions  of  the  new 
country  of  Massachusetts  were  talked  over  in  every  Puritan  household. 
The  proposal  was  welcomed  with  the  quiet,  stern  enthusiasm  which 
marked  the  temper  of  the  time  ;  but  the  words  of  a  well-known  emi- 
grant show  how  hard  it  was  even  for  the  sternest  enthusiasts  to  tear 
themselves  from  their  native  land.  "  I  shall  call  that  my  country," 
said  the  younger  VVinthrop,  in  answer  to  feelings  of  this  sort,  "where  I 
may  most  glorify  God  and  enjoy  the  presence  of  my  dearest  friends." 
The  answer  was  accepted,  and  the  Puritan  emigration  began  on  a 
scale  such  as  England  had  never  before  seen.  The  two  hundred  who 
first  sailed  for  Salem  were  soon  followed  by  John  Winthrop  with  eight 
hundred  men  ;  and  seven  hundred  more  followed  ere  the  first  year  of  the 
king's  personal  rule  had  run  its  course.  Nor  were  the  emigrants,  like 
the  earlier  colonists  of  the  South,  "  broken  men,"  adventurers,  bank- 
rupts, criminals;  or  simply  poor  men  and  artisans,  like  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  of  the  Afay/fower.  They  were  in  great  part  men  of  the  pro- 
fessional and  middle  classes ;  some  of  them  men  of  large  landed  estate, 


VIII. 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


509 


some  zealous  clergymen  like  Cotton,  Hooker,  and  Roger  Williams, 
some  shrewd  London  lawyers,  or  young  scholars  from  Oxford.  The 
bulk  were  God-fearing  farmers  from  Lincolnshire  and  the  Eastern 
counties.  They  desired  in  fact  "  only  the  best "  as  sharers  in  their 
enterprise  ;  men  driven  forth  from  their  fatherland  not  by  earthly 
want,  or  by  the  greed  of  gold,  or  by  the  lust  of  adventure,  but  by  the 
fear  of  God,  and  the  zeal  for  a  godly  worship.  But  strong  as  was 
their  zeal,  it  was  not  without  a  wrench  that  they  tore  themselves 
from  their  English  homes.  "Farewell,  dear  England!  "  was  the  cry 
which  burst  from  the  first  little  company  of  emigrants  as  its  shores 
faded  from  their  sight.  "  Our  hearts,"  wrote  Winthrop's  followers  to 
the  brethren  whom  they  had  left  behind,  "  shall  be  fountains  of  tears 
for  your  everlasting  welfare,  when  we  shall  be  in  our  poor  cottages  in 
the  wilderness." 

During  the  next  two  years,  as  the  sudden  terror  which  had  found  so 
violent  an   outlet  in   Eliot's  warnings   died   for    the  moment   away, 
there  was  a  lull  in  the  emigration.     But  the  measures  of. Laud  soon 
revived  the  panic  of  the  Puritans.    The  shrewdness  of  James  had  read 
the  very  heart  of  the  man  when  Buckingham  pressed  for  his  first 
advancement  to  the  see  of  St.  David's.   "  He  hath  a  restless  spirit,"  said 
the  old  King,  "  which  cannot  see  when  things  are  well,  but  loves  to 
toss  and  change,  and  to  bring  matters  to  a  pitch  of  reformation  floating 
in  his  own  brain.     Take  him  with  you,  but  by  my  soul  you  will  repent 
it."     Cold,  pedantic,  superstitious  as  he  was  (he  notes  in  his  diary  the 
entry  of  a  robin-redbreast  into  his  study  as  a  matter  of  grave  moment), 
William  Laud  rose  out  of  the  mass  of  court-prelates  by  his  industry, 
his  persona]  unselfishness,  his  remarkable  capacity  for  administration. 
At  a  later  period,  when  immersed  in  State-business,  he  found  time 
to  acquire  so  complete  a  knowledge  of  commercial  affairs  that  the 
London  merchants  themselves  owned  him  a  master  in  matters  of  trade. 
Of  statesmanship  indeed  he  had  none.     But  Laud's  influence  was  really 
derived  from  the  unity  of  his  purpose.     He  directed  all  the  power  of  a 
clear,  narrow  mind  and  a  dogged  will  to  the  realization  of  a  single  aim. 
His  resolve  was  to  raise  the  Church  of  England  to  what  he  conceived 
to  be  its  real  position  as  a  branch,  though  a  reformed  branch,  of  the 
great  Catholic  Church  throughout  the  world  ;  protesting  alike  against 
the  innovations  of  Rome  and  the  innovations  of  Calvin,  and  basing  its 
doctrines  and  usages  on  those  of  the  Christian  communion  in  the  cen- 
turies which  preceded  the  Council  of  Nicaea.     The  first  step  in  the 
realization  of  such  a  theory  was  the  severance  of  whatever  ties  had 
hitherto  united  the  English  Church  to  the  Reformed  Churches  of  the 
Continent.     In  Laud's  view  episcopal  succession  was  of  the  essence  of 
a  Church,  and  by  their  rejection  of  bishops,  the  Lutheran  and  Calviji- 
istic  Churches  of  Germany  and  Switzerland  had  ceased  to  be  Churches 
at  all.     The  freedom  of  worship  therefore  which  hud  been  allowed  to 


5IO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA*-. 


the  Huguenot  refugees  from  France,  or  the  Walloons  from  Flanders, 
was  suddenly  withdrawn  ;  and  the  requirement  of  conformity  with  the 
Anglican  ritual  drove  them  in  crowds  from  the  southern  ports  to  seek 
toleration  in  Holland.  The  same  conformity  was  required  from  the 
English  soldiers  and  merchants  abroad,  who  had  hitherto  attended 
without  scruple  the  services  of  the  Calvinistic  churches.  The  English 
ambassador  in  Paris  was  forbidden  to  visit  the  Huguenot  conventicle 
at  Charenton.  As  Laud  drew  further  from  the  Protestants  of  the  Con- 
tinent, he  drew,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  nearer  to  Rome.  His 
theory  owned  Rome  as  a  true  branch  of  the  Church,  though  severed 
from  that  of  England  by  errors  and  innovations  against  which  Laud 
vigorously  protested.  But  with  the  removal  of  these  obstacles  reunion 
would  naturally  follow,  and  his  dream  was  that  of  bridging  over  the 
gulf  which  ever  since  the  Reformation  had  parted  the  two  Churches. 
The  secret  offer  of  a  cardinal's  hat  proved  Rome's  sense  that  Laud 
was  doing  his  work  for  her ;  while  his  rejection  of  it,  and  his  own 
reiterated  protestations,  prove  equally  that  he  was  doing  it  uncon- 
sciously. Union  with  the  great  body  of  Catholicism,  indeed,  he 
regarded  as  a  work  which  only  time  could  bring  about,  but  for  which 
he  could  prepare  the  Church  of  England  by  raising  it  to  a  higher 
standard  of  Catholic  feeling  and  Catholic  practice.  The  great  ob- 
stacle in  his  way  was  the  Puritanism  of  nine-tenths  of  the  English 
people,  and  on  Puritanism  he  made  war  without  mercy.  No  sooner 
had  his  elevation  to  the  see  of  Canterbury  placed  him  at  the  head  of 
the  English  Church,  than  he  turned  the  High  Commission  into  a 
standing  attack  on  the  Puritan  ministers.  Rectors  and  vicars  were* 
scolded,  suspended,  deprived  for  "  Gospel  preaching."  The  use  of 
the  surplice,  and  the  ceremonies  most  offensive  to  Puritan  feeling,  were 
enforced  in  every  parish.  The  lectures  founded  in  towns,  which  were 
the  favourite  posts  of  Puritan  preachers,  were  rigorously  suppressed. 
They  found  a  refuge  among  the  country  gentlemen,  and  the  Archbishop 
withdrew  from  the  country  gentlemen  the  privilege  of  keeping  chaj>- 
lains,  which  they  had  till  then  enjoyed.  As  parishes  became  vacant 
the  High  Church  bishops  had  long  been  filling  them  with  men  who 
denounced  Calvinism,  and  declared  passive  obedience  to  the  sovereign 
to  be  part  of  the  law  of  God.  The  Puritans  soon  felt  the  stress  of  this 
process,  and  endeavoured  to  meet  it  by  buying  up  the  appropriations 
of  livings,  and  securing  through  feoffees  a  succession  of  Protestant 
ministers  in  the  parishes  of  which  they  were  patrons  :  but  Laud  cited 
the  feoffees  before  the  Court  of  Exchequer,  and  roughly  put  an  end  to 
them.  Nor  was  the  persecution  confined  to  the  clergy.  Under  the  two 
last  reigns  the  small  pocket-Bibles  called  the  Cieneva  Bibles  had  become 
universally  popular  amongst  English  laymen  ;  but  their  marginal  notes 
were  found  to  savour  of  Calvinism,  and  their  importation  was  pro- 
hibited^   The  habit  of  receiving  the  communion  in  a  sitting  posture 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


5" 


hhd  become  common,  but  kneeling  was  now  enforced,  and  hundreds 
were  excommunicated  for  refusing  to  comply  with  the  injunction.  A 
more  galling  means  of  annoyance  was  found  in  the  different  views  of 
the  two  religious  parties  on  the  subject  of  Sunday.  The  Puritans 
identified  the  Lord's  day  with  the  Jewish  Sabbath,  and  transferred  to 
the  one  the  strict  observances  which  were  required  for  the  other.  The 
Laudian  clergy,  on  the  other  hand,  regarded  it  simply  as  one  among 
the  holidays  of  the  Church,  and  encouraged  their  flocks  in  the  pastimes 
and  recreations  after  service  which  had  been  common  before  the 
Reformation.  The  Crown  under  James  had  taken  part  with  the  High 
Churchmen,  and  had  issued  a  "  Book  of  Sports  "  which  recommended 
certain  games  as  lawful  and  desirable  on  the  Lord's  day.  The  Parlia- 
ment, as  might  be  expected,  was  stoutly  on  the  other  side,  and  had 
forbidden  Sunday  pastimes  by  statute.  The  general  religious  sense  of 
the  country  was  undoubtedly  tending  to  a  stricter  observance  of  the 
day,  when  Laud  brought  the  contest  to  a  sudden  issue.  He  summoned 
the  Chief-Justice,  Richardson,  who  had  enforced  the  statute  in  the 
western  shires,  to  the  Council-table,  and  rated  him  so  violently  that  the 
old  man  came  out  complaining  he  had  been  all  but  choked  by  a  pair  of 
lawn  sleeves.  He  then  ordered  every  minister  to  read  the  declaration 
in  favour  of  Sunday  pastimes  from  the  pulpit.  One  Puritan  minister 
had  the  wit  to  obey,  and  to  close  the  reading  with  the  significant  hint, 
"  You  have  heard  read,  good  people,  both  the  commandment  of  God 
and  the  commandment  of  man.  Obey  which  you  please."  But  the 
bulk  refused  to  comply  with  the  Archbishop's  will.  The  result  followei 
at  which  Laud  no  doubt  had  aimed  Puritan  ministers  were  cited 
before  the  High  Commission,  and  silenced  or  deprived.  In  the 
diocese  of  Norwich  alone  thirty  parochial  ministers  were  expelled 
from  their  cures. 

The  suppression  of  Puritanism  in  the  ranks  of  the  clergy  was  only  a 
preliminary  to  the  real  work  on  which  the  Archbishop's  mind  was  set, 
the  preparation  for  Catholic  reunion  by  the  elevation  of  the  clergy  to 
a  Catholic  standard  in  doctrine  and  ritual.  Laud  publicly  avowed  his 
preference  of  an  unmarried  to  a  married  priesthood.  Some  of  the 
bishops,  and  a  large  part  of  the  new  clergy  who  occupied  the  posts 
from  which  the  Puritan  ministers  had  been  driven,  advocated  doctrines 
and  customs  which  the  Reformers  had  denounced  as  sheer  Papistry ; 
the  practice,  for  instance,  of  auricular  confession,  a  Real  Presence  in 
the  Sacrament,  or  prayers  for  the  dead.  One  prelate,  Montague,  was 
earnest  for  reconciliation  with  Rome.  Another,  Goodman,  died  acknow- 
ledginghimself  a  Papist.  Meanwhile  Laud  was  indefatigable  in  his  efforts 
to  raise  the  civil  and  political  status  of  the  clergy  to  the  point  which  it 
had  reached  ere  the  fatal  blow  of  the  Reformation  fell  on  the  priest- 
hood. Among  the  archives  of  his  see  lies  a  large  and  costly  volume  in 
veuum,  containing  a  copy  of  such  records  in  the  Tower  as  concerned 


gI2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


the  privileges  of  the  clergy.  Its  compilation  was  entered  in  the 
Archbishop's  diary  as  one  among  the  "  twenty-one  things  which  I 
have  projected  to  do  if  God  bless  me  in  them/'  and  as  among  the 
fifteen  to  which  before  his  fall  he  had  been  enabled  to  add  his 
emphatic  '*  done."  The  power  of  the  Bishops'  Courts,  which  had  long 
fallen  into  decay,  revived  under  his  patronage.  In  1636  he  was  able 
to  induce  the  King  to  raise  a  prelate,  Juxon,  Bishop  of  London,  to  the 
highest  civil  post  in  the  realm,  that  of  Lord  High  Treasurer.  "No 
Churchman  had  it  since  Henry  the  Seventh's  time,"  Laud  comments 
proudly.  "  I  pray  (^od  bless  him  to  carry  it  so  that  the  Church  may 
have  honour,  and  the  State  service  and  content  by  it.  And  now,  if 
the  Church  will  not  hold  up  themselves,  under  God  I  can  do  no  more." 
As  he  aimed  at  a  more  Catholic  standard  of  doctrine  in  the  clergy,  so 
he  aimed  at  a  nearer  approach  to  the  pomp  of  Catholicism  in  public 
worship.  His  conduct  in  his  own  house  at  Lambeth  brings  out  with 
singular  vividness  the  reckless  courage  with  which  he  threw  himself 
across  the  religious  instincts  of  a  time  when  the  spiritual  aspect  ol 
worship  was  overpowering  in  most  men's  minds  its  aesthetic  and  devo- 
tional sides.  Men  noted  as  a  fatal  omen  the  accident  which  marked 
his  first  entry  into  Lambeth  ;  for  the  overladen  ferry-boat  upset  in  the 
passage  of  the  river,  and  though  the  horses  and  servants  were  saved, 
the  Archbishop's  coach  remained  at  the  bottom  of  the  Thames.  But 
no  omen,  carefully  as  he  might  note  it,  brought  a  moment's  hesitation 
to  the  bold,  narrow  mind  of  the  new  Primate.  His  first  act,  he  boasted, 
was  the  setting  about  a  restoration  of  his  chapel ;  and,  as  Laud  managed 
it,  his  restoration  was  the  simple  undoing  of  all  that  had  been  done 
there  by  his  predecessors  since  the  Reformation.  The  chapel  of 
Lambeth  House  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  among  the  eccle- 
siastical building;  of  the  time;  it  had  seen  the  daily  worship  of 
every  Primate  since  Cranmer,  and  was  a  place  "whither  many  of  the 
nobility,  judges,  clergy,  and  persons  of  all  sorts,  as  well  strangers  as 
natives,  resorted."  But  all  pomp  of  worship  had  gradually  passed 
away  from  it.  Under  Cranmer  the  stained  glass  was  dashed  from  its 
windows.  In  Elizabeth's  time  the  communion  table  was  moved  into 
the  middle  of  the  chapel,  and  the  credence  table  destroyed.  Under 
James  Archbishop  Abbot  put  the  finishing  stroke  on  all  attempts  at  a 
h\\i;h  ceremonial.  The  cope  was  no  longer  used  as  a  special  vestment 
in  the  conmunion.  The  Primate  and  his  chaplains  forbore  to  bow  at 
the  name  of  Christ.  The  organ  and  choir  were  alike  abolished,  and 
the  service  reduced  to  a  simplicity  which  would  hive  satisfied  Calvin« 
To  Laud  the  state  of  the  chapel  seemed  intolerable.  With  charac- 
teristic energy  he  aided  with  his  own  hands  in  the  replacehient  of  the 
painted  glass  in  its  windows,  and  racked  his  wits  in  piecing  the  fragr 
r  ^cnts  together.  The  glazier  was  scandalized  by  the  Primate's  express 
I  command  to  repair  and  set  up  again  the  "  broken  crucifix  "  in  the  casr 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


SiJ 


window.  The  holy  table  was  removed  from  the  centre,  and  set  altar- 
wise  against  the  eastern  wall,  with  a  cloth  of  arras  behind  it,  on  which 
was  embroidered  the  history  of  the  Last  Supper.  The  elaborate 
woodwork  of  the  screen,  the  rich  copes  of  the  chaplain,  the  silver 
candlesticks,  the  credence  table,  the  organ  and  the  choir,  the  stately 
ritual,  the  bowings  at  the  sacred  name,  the  genuflexions  to  the  altar, 
made  the  chapel  at  last  such  a  model  of  worship  as  Laud  desired.  If 
he  could  not  exact  an  equal  pomp  of  devotion  in  other  quarters,  he 
exacted  as  much  as  he  could.  Bowing  to  the  altar  was  introduced 
into  all  cathedral  churches.  A  royal  injunction  ordered  the  removal 
of  the  communion  table,  which  for  the  last  half  century  or  more  had 
in  almost  every  parish  church  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  nave,  back  to 
its  pre- Reformation  position  in  the  chancel,  and  secured  it  from  pro- 
fanation by  a  rail.  The  removal  implied,  and  was  understood  to  imply, 
a  recognition  of  the  Real  Presence,  and  a  denial  of  the  doctrine  which 
Englishmen  generally  held  about  the  Lord's  Supper.  But,  strenuous 
as  was  the  resistance  Laud  encountered,  his  pertinacity  and  severity 
warred  it  down.  Parsons  who  denounced  the  change  from  their  pulpits 
were  fined,  imprisoned,  and  deprived  of  their  benefices.  Church- 
wardens who  refused  or  delayed  to  obey  the  injunction  were  rated  at 
the  Commission-table,  and  frightened  into  compliance 

In  their  last  Remonstrance  to  the  King  the  Commons  had  denounced 
Laud  as  the  chief  assailant  of  the  Protestant  character  of  the  Church  of 
England  ;  and  every  year  of  his  Primacy  showed  him  bent  upon  justify- 
ing the  accusation.  His  policy  was  no  longer  the  purely  conservative 
policy  of  Parker  or  Whitgift  ;  it  was  aggressive  and  revolutionary. 
His  "new  counsels"  threw  whatever  force  there  was  in  the  feeling  of 
conservatism  into  the  hands  of  the  Puritan,  for  it  was  the  Puritan  who 
now  seemed  to  be  defending  the  old  character  of  the  Church  of  England 
against  its  Primate's  attacks.  But  backed  as  Laud  was  by  the  power 
of  the  Crown,  the  struggle  became  more  hopeless  every  day.  While 
the  Catholics  owned  that  they  had  never  enjoyed  a  like  tranquillity, 
while  the  fines  for  recusancy  were  reduced,  and  their  worship  suffered 
to  go  on  in  private  houses,  the  Puritan  saw  his  ministers  silenced  or 
deprived,  his  Sabbath  profaned,  the  most  sacred  act  of  his  worship 
brought  near,  as  he  fancied,  to  the  Roman  mass.  Roman  doctrine 
met  him  from  the  pulpit,  Roman  practices  met  him  in  the  Church. 
We  can  hardly  wonder  that  with  such  a  world  around  them  "  godly 
people  in  England  began  to  apprehend  a  special  hand  of  Providence 
in  raising  this  plantation  "  in  Massachusetts  ;  "  and  their  hearts  were 
generally  stirred  to  come  over."  It  was  in  vain  that  weaker  men 
returned  to  bring  news  of  hardships  and  dangers,  and  told  how  two 
hundred  of  the  new  comers  had  perished  with  their  first  winter.  A 
letter  from  Winthrop  told  how  the  rest  toiled  manfully  on.  "  We  now 
eniov  God  and  Jesus  Christ,"  he  wrote  to  those  at  home,  "  and  is  not 

S 


514 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


that  enough  ?  I  thank  God  I  like  so  well  to  be  here  as  I  do  not  repent 
ray  coming.  I  would  not  have  altered  my  course  though  I  had  fore- 
seen all  these  afflictions.  I  never  had  more  content  of  mind."  With 
the  strength  and  manliness  of  Puritanism,  its  bigotry  and  narrowness 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  too.  Roger  Williams,  a  young  minister  who 
held  the  doctrine  of  freedom  of  conscience,  was  driven  from  the  new 
settlement,  to  become  a  preacher  among  the  settlers  of  Rhode  Island. 
The  bitter  resentment  stirred  in  the  emigrants  by  persecution  at  home 
was  seen  in  their  rej'-ction  of  Episcopacy  and  their  prohibition  of  the 
use  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  The  intensity  of  its  religious 
sentiments  turned  the  colony  into  a  theocracy.  "  To  the  end  that  the 
body  of  the  Commons  may  be  preserved  of  honest  and  good  men,  it 
was  ordered  and  agreed  that  for  the  time  to  come  no  man  shall  be 
admitted  to  the  freedom  of  the  body  politic  but  such  as  are  members 
of  some  of  the  churches  within  the  bounds  of  the  same."  As  the  con- 
test grew  hotter  at  home  the  number  of  Puritan  emigrants  rose  fast. 
Three  thousand  new  colonists  arrived  from  England  in  a  single  year. 
The  growing  stream  of  emigrants  marks  the  terrible  pressure  of  the 
time.  Between  the  sailing  of  Winthrop's  expedition  and  the  assembly 
of  the  Long  Parliament,  in  the  space,  that  is,  of  ten  or  eleven  years, 
two  hundred  emigrant  ships  had  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  twenty 
thousand  Englishmen  had  found  a  refuge  in  the  West. 


Section  v.— The  Personal  Government.    1629^1640. 

{Authorities. — For  the  general  events  of  the  time,  see  previous  sections. 
The  "  Strafford  Letters,"  and  the  Calendars  of  Domestic  State  Papers  for  this 
period  give  its  real  history.  "  Baillie's  Letters"  tell  the  story  of  the  Scotch 
rising.  Generally,  Scotch  affairs  may  be  studied  in  Mr.  Burton's  *'  History  ol 
Scotland."  Portraits  of  Weston,  and  most  of  the  statesmen  of  this  period,  may 
be  found  in  the  earlier  part  of  Clarendon's  "  History  of  the  Rebellion."] 

At  the  opening  of  his  third  Parliament  Charles  had  hinted  in 
ominous  words  that  the  continuance  of  Parliament  at  all  depended  on 
its  compliance  with  his  will.  "  If  you  do  not  your  duty,"  said  the 
King,  "  mine  would  then  order  me  to  use  those  other  means  which 
God  has  put  into  my  hand  "  The  threat,  however,  failed  to  break  the 
resistance  of  the  Commons,  and  the  ominous  words  passed  into  a 
settled  policy.  "  We  have  showed,"  said  a  proclamation  which  fol- 
lowed on  the  dissolution  of  the  Houses,  "by  our  frequent  meeting  out 
people,  our  love  to  the  use  of  Parliament ;  yet,  the  late  abuse  having 
for  the  present  driven  us  unwillingly  out  of  that  course,  we  shall  account 
it  presumption  for  any  to  prescribe  any  time  unto  us  for  Parliament." 

No  Parliament  in  fact  met  for  eleven  years.  But  it  would  be  unfair 
to  charge  the  King  at  the  outset  of  this  period  with  any  definite 
scheme  of  establishing  a  tyranny,  or  of  changing  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  the  older  constitution  of  the  realm.     He  "  hated  the  \ery 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


515 


name  of  Parliaments,"  but  in  spite  of  his  hate  he  had  as  yet  no  settled 
purpose  of  abohshing  them.  His  belief  was  that  England  would  in 
time  recover  its  senses,  and  that  then  Parliament  might  re-assemble 
without  inconvenience  to  the  Crown.  In  the  interval,  however  long  it 
might  be,  he  proposed  to  govern  single-handed  by  the  use  of  "  those 
means  which  God  had  put  into  his  hands.""  Resistance,  indeed,  he 
was  resolved  to  put  down.  The  leaders  of  the  popular  party  in  the 
last  Parliament  were  thrown  into  prison  ;  and  Eliot  died,  the  first 
martyr  of  English  liberty,  in  the  Tower.  Men  were  forbidden  to  speak 
of  the  reassembling  of  a  Parliament.  But  here  the  King  stopped.  The 
opportunity  which  might  have  suggested  dreams  of  organized  despotism 
to  a  Richelieu,  suggested  only  means  of  filling  his  Exchequer  to  Charles. 
He  had  in  truth  neither  the  grander  nor  the  meaner  instincts  of  a  bom 
tyrant.  He  did  not  seek  to  gain  an  absolute  power  over  his  people, 
because  he  believed  that  his  absolute  power  was  already  a  part  of  the 
constitution  of  the  country.  He  set  up  no  standing  army  to  secure  it, 
partly  because  he  was  poor,  but  yet  more  because  his  faith  in  his 
position  was  such  that  he  never  dreamed  of  any  effectual  resistance. 
His  expedients  for  freeing  the  Crown  from  that  dependence  on 
Parliaments  against  which  his  pride  as  a  sovereign  revolted  were 
simply  peace  and  economy.  To  secure  the  first  he  sacrificed  an 
opportunity  greater  than  ever  his  father  had  trodden  under  foot.  The 
fortunes  of  the  great  struggle  in  Germany  were  suddenly  reversed  at  this 
juncture  by  the  appearance  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  with  a  Swedish  army, 
in  the  heart  of  Germany.  Tilly  was  defeated  and  slain  ;  the  Catholic 
League  humbled  in  the  dust ;  Munich,  the  capital  of  its  Bavarian  leader, 
occupied  by  the  Swedish  army,  and  the  Lutheran  princes  of  North 
Germany  freed  from  the  pressure  of  the  Imperial  soldiery ;  while  the 
Emperor  himself,  trembling  within  the  walls  of  Vienna,  was  driven  to  call 
for  aid.from  Wallenstein,  an  adventurer  whose  ambition  he  dreaded,  but 
whose  army  could  alone  arrest  the  progress  of  the  Protestant  conqueror. 
The  ruin  that  James  had  wrought  was  suddenly  averted  ;  but  the 
victories  of  Protestantism  had  no  more  power  to  draw  Charles  out  of 
the  petty  circle  of  his  politics  at  home  than  its  defeats  had  had  power  to 
draw  James  out  of  the  circle  of  his  imbecile  diplomacy.  When  Gustavus, 
on  the  point  of  invading  Germany,  appealed  for  aid  to  England  and 
France,  Charles,  left  penniless  by  the  dissolution  of  Parliament, 
resolved  on  a  policy  of  peace,  withdrew  his  ships  from  the  Baltic, 
and  opened  negotiations  with  Spain,  which  brought  about  a  treaty 
on  the  virtual  basis  of  an  abandonment  of  the  Palatinate.  Ill  luck 
clung  to  him  in  peace  as  in  war.  The  treaty  was  hardly  concluded 
when  Gustavus  began  his  wonderful  career  of  victory.  Charles  strove 
at  once  to  profit  by  his  success,  and  a  few  Scotch  and  English  regi- 
ments followed  Gustavus  in  his  reconquest  of  the  Palatinate.  But  the 
conqueror  demanded,  as  the  price  of  its  restoration  to  Frederick,  that 


5i6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Charles  should  again  declare  war  upon  Spain  ;  and  this  was  a  price 
that  the  King  would  not  pay,  determined  as  he  was  not  to  plunge  into 
a  combat  which  would  again  force  him  to  summon  Parliament.  His 
whole  attention  was  absorbed  by  the  pressing  question  of  revenue. 
The  debt  was  a  large  one  ;  and  the  ordinary  income  of  the  Crown, 
unaided  by  parliamentary  supplies,  was  inadequate  to  meet  its  ordinar)' 
expenditure.  Charles  himself  was  frugal  and  laborious  ;  and  the 
economy  of  Weston,  the  new  Lord  Treasurer,  whom  he  made  Earl  of 
Portland,  contrasted  advantageously  with  the  waste  and  extravagance 
of  the  government  under  Buckingham.  But  economy  failed  to  close 
the  yawning  gulf  of  the  treasury,  and  the  course  into  which  Charles 
was  driven  by  the  financial  pressure  showed  with  how  wise  a  prescience 
the  Commons  had  fixed  on  the  point  of  arbitrary  taxation  as  the  chief 
danger  to  constitutional  freedom. 

It  is  curious  to  see  to  what  shifts  the  royal  pride  was  driven  in  its 
effort  at  once  to  fill  the  Exchequer,  and  yet  to  avoid,  as  far  as  it  could, 
any  direct  breach  of  constitutional  law  in  the  imposition  of  taxes  by  the 
sole  authority  of  the  Crown.  The  dormant  powers  of  the  prerogative 
were  strained  to  their  utmost.  The  right  of  the  Crown  to  force 
knighthood  on  the  landed  gentry  was  revived,  in  order  to  squeeze 
them  into  composition  for  the  refusal  of  it.  Fines  were  levied  on 
them  for  the  redress  of  defects  in  their  title-deeds.  A  Commission  oi 
the  Forests  exacted  large  sums  from  the  neighbouring  landowners  for 
their  encroachments  on  Crown  lands.  London,  the  special  object  of 
courtly  dislike,  on  account  of  its  stubborn  Puritanism,  was  brought 
within  the  sweep  of  royal  extortion  by  the  enforcement  of  an  illegal 
proclamation  which  James  had  issued,  prohibiting  its  extension.  Every 
house  throughout  the  large  suburban  districts  in  which  the  prohibition 
had  been  disregarded  was  only  saved  from  demolition  by  the  payment 
of  three  years'  rental  to  the  Crown.  Though  the  Catholics  were  no 
longer  troubled  by  any  active  persecution,  and  the  Lord  Treasurer  was 
in  heart  a  Papist,  the  penury  of  the  Exchequer  forced  the  Crown  to 
maintain  the  old  system  of  fines  for  "  recusancy."  Vexatious  me.isures 
of  extortion  such  as  these  were  far  less  hurtful  to  the  State  than  the 
conversion  of  justice  into  a  means  of  supplying  the  royal  necessities 
by  means  of  the  Star  Chamber.  The  jurisdiction  of  the  King's 
Council  had  been  revived  by  Wolsey  as  a  check  on  the  nobles  ;  and  it 
had  received  great  developement,  especially  on  the  side  of  criminal 
law,  during  the  Tudor  reigns.  Forgery,  perjury,  riot,  maintenance, 
fraud,  libel,  and  conspiracy,  were  the  chief  offences  cognizable  in  this 
court,  but  its  scope  extended  to  every  misdemeanor,  and  especially  to 
charges  where,  from  the  imperfection  of  the  common  law,  or  the  power 
of  offenders,  justice  was  baffled  in  the  lower  courts.  Its  process 
resembled  that  of  Chancery  :  in  State  trials  it  acted  on  an  informa- 
tion laid  before  it  by  the  King's  Attorney.     Both  witnesses  and  accused 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND 


5«7 


were  examined  on  oath  by  special  interrogatories,  and  the  Court  was 
at  liberty  to  adjudge  any  punishment  short  of  death.  However  dis- 
tinguished the  Star  Chamber  was  in  ordinary  cases  for  the  learning 
and  fairness  of  its  judgements,  in  political  trials  it  was  impossible  to 
hope  for  exact  and  impartial  justice  from  a  tribunal  almost  entirely 
composed  of  privy  councillors.  The  possession  of  such  a  weapon 
would  have  been  fatal  to  liberty  under  a  great  tyrant ;  under  Charles  it 
was  turned  freely  to  the  profit  of  the  Exchequer  and  the  support  of 
arbitrary  rule.  Enormous  penalties  were  exacted  for  opposition  to  the 
royal  will,  and  though  the  fines  imposed  were  often  remitted,  they  served 
as  terrible  engines  of  oppression.  Fines  such  as  these  however  affected 
a  smaller  range  of  sufferers  than  the  financial  expfedient  to  which  Weston 
had  recourse  in  the  renewal  of  monopolies.  Monopolies,  abandoned  by 
Elizabeth,  and  extinguished  by  Act  of  Parliament  under  James,  were 
again  set  on  foot,  and  on  a  scale  far  more  gigantic  than  had  been 
seen  before  ;  the  companies  who  undertook  them  paying  a  fixed  duty 
on  their  profits  as  well  as  a  large  sum  for  the  original  concession  of 
the  monopoly.  Wine,  soap,  salt,  and  almost  every  article  of  domestic 
consumption  fell  into  the  hands  of  monopolists,  and  rose  in  price  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  profit  gained  by  the  Crown.  "  They  sup  in  our 
cup,"  Colepepper  said  afterwards  in  the  Long  Parliament, "  they  dip  in 
our  dish,  they  sit  by  our  fire  ;  we  find  them  in  the  dye-fat,  the  wash 
bowls,  and  the  powdering  tub.  They  share  with  the  cutler  in  his  box. 
They  have  marked  and  sealed  us  from  head  to  foot."  But  in  spite  of 
these  expedients  the  Treasury  would  have  remained  unfilled  had  not 
the  King  persisted  in  those  financial  measures  which  had  called  forth 
the  protest  of  the  Parliament.  The  exaction  of  customs  duties  went  on 
as  of  old  at  the  ports.  The  resistance  of  the  London  merchants  to  their 
payment  was  roughly  put  down  ;  and  one  of  them.  Chambers,  who 
complained  bitterly  that  merchants  were  worse  off  in  England  than  in 
Turkey,  was  brought  before  the  Star  Chamber  and  ruined  by  a  fine  of 
two  thousand  pounds.  It  was  by  measures  such  as  these  that  Charles 
^<iined  the  bitter  enmity  of  the  great  city  whose  strength  and  resources 
were  fatal  to  him  in  the  coming  war.  The  freeholders  of  the  counties 
A^ere  equally  difificult  to  deal  with.  On  one  occasion,  when  those  of 
Cornwall  were  called  together  at  Bodmin  to  contribute  to  a  voluntary 
loan,  half  the  hundreds  refused,  and  the  yield  of  the  rest  came  to  little 
.  more  than  two  thousand  pounds.  One  of  the  Cornishmen  has  left  an 
amusing  record  of  the  scene  which  took  place  before  the  Commissioners 
appointed  for  ass3ssment  of  the  loan.  "  Some  with  great  words  and 
threatenings,  some  with  persuasions,"  he  says,  "  were  drawn  to  it.  I 
was  like  to  have  been  complimented  out  of  my  money  ;  but  knowing 
with  whom  1  had  to  deal,  I  held,  when  I  talked  with  them,  my  hands 
fast  in  my  pockets." 

By  such  means  as  these  the  debt  was  reduced,  and  the  annual 


5i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


revenue  of  the  Crown  increased.     Nor  was  there  much  sign  of  active 
discontent.     Vexatious  indeed  and  illegal  as  were  the  proceedings  of 
the  Crown,  there  seems  in  these  earlier  years  of  personal  rule  to  have 
been  little  apprehension  of  any  permanent  danger  to  freedom  in  the 
country  at  large.     To  those  who  read  the  letters  of  the  time  there  is 
something  inexpressibly  touching  in  the  general  faith  of  their  writers 
in  the  ultimate  victory  of  the  Law.     Charles  was  obstinate,  but  ob- 
stinacy was  too  common  a  foible  amongst  Englishmen  to  rouse  any 
vehement  resentment.     The  people  were  as  stubborn  as  their  King, 
and  their  political  sense  told  them  that  the  slightest  disturbance  of 
affairs  must  shake  down  the  financial  fabric  which  Charles  was  slowly 
building  up,  and  force  him  back  on  subsidies   and  a  Parliament 
Meanwhile  they  would  wait  for  better  days,  and  their  patience  was 
aided  by  the  general  prosperity  of  the  country.    The  great  Continental 
wars  threw  wealth  into  English  hands.    The  intercourse  between  Spain 
and  Flanders  was  carried  on  solely  in  English  ships,  and  the  English 
flag  covered  the  intercourse  between  Portuguese  ports  and  the  colonies 
in  Africa,  India,  and  the  Pacific.     The  long  peace  was  producing  its 
inevitable  results  in  an  extension  of  commerce  and  a  rise  of  manufactures 
in  the  towns  of  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire.     Fre«h  land  was  being 
brought  into  cultivation,  and  a  great  scheme  was  set  on  foot  for  reclaim- 
ing the  Fens.     The  new  wealth  of  the  country  gentry,  through  the 
increase  of  rent,  was  seen  in  the  splendour  of  the  houses  which  they 
were  raising.  The  contrast  of  this  peace  and  prosperity  with  the  ruin  and 
blood  ihed  of  the  Continent  afforded  a  ready  argument  to  the  friends  oi 
the  King's  system.    So  tranquil  was  the  outer  appearance  of  the  country 
that  in  Court  circles  all  sense  of  danger  had  disappeared.   "  Some  of  the 
greatest  statesmen  and  privy  councillors,"  says  May,**  would  ordinarily 
laugh  when  the  word, '  liberty  of  the  subject,'  was  named."    There  were 
courtiers  bold  enough  to  express  their  hope  that  "the  King  would 
never  need  any  more  Parliaments."     But  beneath  this  outer  calm  "  the 
country,"  Clarendon  honestly  tells  us  while  eulogizing  the  peace,  "  was 
full  of  pride  and  mutiny  and  discontent."    Thousands  were  quitting 
England  for  America.     The  gentry  held  aloof  from  the  Court.     "  The 
common  people  in  the  generality  and  the  country  freeholders  would 
rationally  argue  of  their  own  rights  and  the  oppressions  which  were 
laid  upon  them."     If  Charles  was  content  to  deceive  himself,  there  was 
one  man  among  his  ministers  who  saw  that  the  people  were  right  in 
their  policy  of  patience,  and  that  unless  other  measures  were  taken 
the  fabric  of  despotism  would  fall  at  the  first  breath  of  adverse  fortune. 
Sir  Thomas  Wentworth,  a  great  Yorkshire  landowner  and  one  of  the 
representatives  of  his  county,  had  stood  during  the  Parliament  of  1628 
among  the  more  prominent   members  of  the  popular  party  in  the 
Commons.     But  from  the  first  moment  of  his  appearance  in  public  his 
passionate  desire  had  been  to  find  employment  in  the  service  of  the 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


5 19 


Crown.  At  the  close  of  the  preceding  reign  he  was  already  connected 
with  the  Court,  he  had  secured  a  seat  in  Yorkshire  for  one  of  the  royal 
ministers,  and  was  believed  to  be  on  the  high  road  to  a  peerage.  But 
the  consciousness  of  political  ability  which  spurred  his  ambition  roused 
the  jealousy  of  Buckingham  ;  and  the  haughty  pride  of  Wentworth  was 
flung  by  repeated  slights  into  an  attitude  of  opposition,  which  his 
eloquence— grander  in  its  sudden  outbursts,  though  less  earnest  and 
sustained,  than  that  of  Eliot — soon  rendered  formidable.  His  intrigues 
at  Court  roused  Buckingham  to  crush  by  a  signal  insult  the  rival  whose 
genius  he  instinctively  dreaded.  While  sitting  in  his  court  as  sheriff  of 
Yorkshire,  Wentworth  received  the  announcement  of  his  dismissal  from 
office,  and  of  the  gift  of  his  post  to  Sir  John  Savile,  his  rival  in  the 
county.  "  Since  they  will  thus  weakly  breathe  on  me  a  seeming  dis- 
grace in  the  public  face  of  my  country,"  he  said  with  a  characteristic 
outburst  of  contemptuous  pride,  "  I  shall  crave  leave  to  wipe  it  away  as 
openly,  as  easily  ! "  His  whole  conception  of  a  strong  and  able  rule 
revolted  against  the  miserable  government  of  the  favourite.  Went- 
worth's  aim  was  to  force  on  the  King,  not  such  a  freedom  as  Eliot 
longed  for,  but  such  a  system  as  the  Tudors  had  clung  to,  where  a  large 
and  noble  policy  placed  the  sovereign  naturally  at  the  head  of  the 
people,  and  where  Parliaments  sank  into  mere  aids  to  the  Crown.  But 
before  this  could  be,  Buckingham  must  be  cleared  away.  It  was  with 
this  end  that  Wentworth  sprang  to  the  front  of  the  Commons  in  urging 
the  Petition  of  Right.  Whether  in  that  crisis  of  Wentworth's  life  some 
nobler  impulse,  some  true  passion  for  the  freedom  he  was  to  trample 
under  foot  mingled  with  his  thirst  for  revenge,  it  is  hard  to  tell.  But 
his  words  were  words  of  fire.  "  If  he  did  not  faithfully  insist  for  the 
common  liberty  of  the  subject  to  be  preserved  whole  and  entire,"  it 
was  thus  he  closed  one  of  his  speeches  on  the  Petition,  "  it  was  his 
desire  that  he  might  be  set  as  a  beacon  on  a  hill  for  all  men  else  to 
wonder  at." 

It  is  as  such  a  beacon  that  his  name  has  stood  from  that  time  to 
this.  The  death  of  Buckingham  had  no  sooner  removed  the  obstacle 
that  stood  between  his  ambition  and  the  end  at  which  it  had  aimed 
throughout,  than  the  cloak  of  patriotism  was  flung  by.  Wentworth 
was  admitted  to  the  royal  Council,  and  he  took  his  seat  at  the  board 
determined,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  to  "  vindicate  the  Monarchy  for 
ever  from  the  conditions  and  restraints  of  subjects."  So  great  was 
the  faith  in  his  zeal  and  power  which  he  knew  how  to  breathe  into 
his  royal  master  that  he  was  at  once  raised  to  the  peerage,  and  placed 
with  Laud  in  the  first  rank  of  the  King's  councillors.  Charles  had 
good  ground  for  this  rapid  confidence  in  his  new  minister.  In 
Wentworth,  or  as  he  is  known  from  the  title  he  assumed  at  the  close 
of  his  life,  in  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  the  very  genius  of  tyranny  was 
embodied.     If  he  shared  his  master's  belief  that  the  arbitrary  power 


520 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


which  Charles  was  wielding  formed  part  of  the  old  constitution  of  the 
country,  and  that  the  Commons  had  gone  out  of  their  "ancient 
bounds"  in  limiting  the  royal  prerogative,  he  was  clear-sighted 
enough  to  see  that  the  only  way  of  permanently  establishing  absolute 
rule  in  England  was  not  by  reasoning,  or  by  the  force  of  custom, 
but  by  the  force  of  fear.  His  system  was  the  expression  of  his 
own  inner  temper ;  and  the  dark  gloomy  countenance,  the  full  heavy 
eye,  which  meet  us  in  Strafford's  portrait  are  the  best  commentary 
on  his  policy  of  "Thorough."  It  was  by  the  sheer  strength  of 
his  genius,  by  the  terror  his  violence  inspired  amid  the  meaner 
men  whom  Buckingham  had  left,  by  the  general  sense  of  his  power, 
that  he  had  forced  himself  upon  the  Court.  He  had  none  of  the 
small  arts  of  a  courtier.  His  air  was  that  of  a  silent,  proud, 
passionate  man ;  when  he  first  appeared  at  Whitehall  his  rough  un- 
courtly  manners  provoked  a  smile  in  the  royal  circle.  But  the  smile 
soon  died  into  a  general  hate.  The  Queen,  frivolous  and  meddlesome 
as  she  was,  detested  him  ;  his  fellow-ministers  intrigued  against  him, 
and  seized  on  his  hot  speeches  against  the  great  lords,  his  quarrels 
with  the  royal  household,  his  transports  of  passion  at  the  very  Council- 
table,  to  ruin  him  in  his  master's  favour.  The  King  himself,  while 
steadily  supporting  him  against  his  rivals,  was  utterly  unable  to  under- 
stand his  drift.  Charles  valued  him  as  an  administrator,  disdainful 
of  private  ends,  crushing  great  and  small  with  the  same  haughty 
indifference  to  men's  love  or  hate,  and  devoted  to  the  one  aim  of 
building  up  the  power  of  the  Crown.  Hut  in  his  purpose  of  preparing 
for  the  great  struggle  with  freedom  which  he  saw  before  him,  of  building 
up  by  force  such  a  despotism  in  Kngland  as  Richelieu  was  building  up 
in  France,  and  of  thus  making  England  as  great  in  Europe  as  France 
had  been  made  by  Richelieu,  he  could  look  for  little  sympathy  and  less 
help  from  the  King. 

Wentworth's  genius  turned  impatiently  to  a  sphere  where  it  could 
act  alone,  untrammelled  by  the  hindrances  it  encountered  at  home. 
His  purpose  was  to  prepare  for  the  coming  contest  by  the  provision  of 
a  fixed  revenue,  arsenals,  fortresses,  and  a  standing  army,  and  it  was 
in  Ireland  that  he  resolved  to  find  them.  He  saw  in  the  miserable 
country  which  had  hitherto  been  a  drain  upon  the  resources  of  the 
Crown  the  lever  he  needed  for  the  overthrow  of  English  freedom. 
The  balance  of  Catholic  against  Protestant  in  Ireland  might  be  used 
to  make  both  parties  dependent  on  the  royal  authority  ;  the  rights  of 
conquest,  which  in  Wentworth's  theory  vested  the  whole  land  in  the 
absolute  possession  of  the  Crown,  gave  him  a  large  field  for  his  ad- 
ministrative ability  ;  and  for  the  rest  he  trusted,  and  trusted  justly,  to 
the  force  of  his  genius  and  of  his  will.  In  1633  he  was  made  Lord 
Deputy,  and  five  years  later  his  aim  seemed  all  but  realized.  "The 
King,"  he  wrote  to  Laud,  "  is  as  absolute  here  as  any  prince  in  the 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


5*1 


world  can  be."  Wentworth's  government  indeed  was  a  rule  of  terror. 
Archbishop  Usher,  with  almost  every  name  which  we  can  respect  in 
the  island,  was  the  object  of  his  insult  and  oppression.  His  tyranny 
strode  over  all  legal  bounds.  A  few  insolent  words,  construed  as 
mutiny,  were  enough  to  bring  Lord  Mountnorris  before  a  council  of 
war,  and  to  inflict  on  him  a  sentence  of  death.  But  his  tyranny  aimed 
at  public  ends,  and  in  Ireland  the  heavy  hand  of  a  single  despot  de- 
livered the  mass  of  the  people  at  any  rate  from  the  local  despotism  of 
a  hundred  masters.  The  Irish  landowners  were  for  the  first  time  made 
to  feel  themselves  amenable  to  the  law.  Justice  was  enforced,  outrage 
was  repressed,  the  condition  of  the  clergy  was  to  some  extent  raised, 
the  sea  was  cleared  of  the  pirates  who  infested  it.  The  foundation  of 
the  linen  manufacture  which  was  to  bring  wealth  to  Ulster,  and  the 
first  developement  of  Irish  commerce,  date  from  the  Lieutenancy  of 
Wentworth.  But  good  government  was  only  a  means  with  him  for 
further  ends.  The  noblest  work  to  be  done  in  Ireland  was  the  bring 
ing  about  a  reconciliation  between  Catholic  and  Protestant,  and  an 
obliteration  of  the  anger  and  thirst  for  vengeance  which  had  been 
raised  by  the  Ulster  Plantation.  Wentworth,  on  the  other  hand, 
angered  the  Protestants  by  a  toleration  of  Catholic  worship  and  a  sus- 
pension of  the  persecution  which  had  feebly  begun  against  the  priest- 
hood, while  he  fed  the  irritation  of  the  Catholics  by  schemes  for  a 
Plantation  of  Connaught.  His  purpose  was  to  encourage  a  disunion 
which  left  both  parties  dependent  for  support  and  protection  on  the 
Crown.  It  was  a  policy  which  was  to  end  in  bringing  about  the  horrors 
of  the  Irish  revolt,  the  vengeance  of  Cromwell,  and  the  long  series  of 
atrocities  on  both  sides  which  make  the  story  of  the  country  he  ruined 
so  terrible  to  tell.  But  for  the  hour  it  left  Ireland  helpless  in  his 
hands.  He  doubled  the  revenue.  He  reorganized  the  army.  To 
provide  for  its  support  he  ventured,  in  spite  of  the  panic  with  which 
Charles  heard  his  project,  to  summon  an  Irish  Parliament.  His  aim  was 
to  read  a  lesson  to  England  and  the  King,  by  showing  how  completely 
that  dreaded  thing,  a  Parliament,  could  be  made  the  organ  of  the  royal 
will ;  and  his  success  was  complete.  Two-thirds,  indeed,  of  an  Irish 
House  of  Commons  consisted  of  the  representatives  of  wretched 
villages,  the  pocket-boroughs  of  the  Crown  ;  while  absent  peers  were 
forced  to  entrust  their  proxies  to  the  Council  to  be  used  at  its  pleasure. 
But  precautions  were  hardly  needed.  The  two  Houses  trembled  at 
the  stern  master  who  bade  their  members  not  let  the  King  "  find  them 
muttering,  or,  to  speak  it  more  truly,  mutinying  in  corners,"  and  voted 
with  a  perfect  docility  the  means  of  maintaining  an  army  of  five  thou- 
sand foot  and  five  hundred  horse.  Had  the  subsidy  been  refused,  the 
result  would  have  been  the  same.  "  I  would  undertake,"  wrote  Went- 
worth, "  upon  the  peril  of  my  head,  to  make  the  King's  army  able  to 
subsist  and  provide  for  itself  among  them  without  their  help." 


522 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE, 


[chap. 


Sec.  V. 

The 
Personal 
Govern- 
ment 

lOflO 

TO 

1640 

Charles 

and 
Scotland 


Scotland 
and  the 
Btnarts 


1572 


While  Wentworth  was  thus  working  out  his  system  of  "  Thorough" 
on  one  side  of  St.  George's  Channel,  it  was  being  carried  out  on  the 
other  by  a  mind  inferior,  indeed,  to  his  own  in  genius,  but  almost  equal 
to  it  in  courage  and  tenacity.  On  Weston's  death  in  1635,  Laud  became 
virtually  first  minister  at  the  English  Council-board.  We  have  already 
seen  with  what  a  reckless  and  unscrupulous  activity  he  was  crushing 
Puritanism  in  the  English  Church,  and  driving  Puritan  ministers  from 
English  pulpits  ;  and  in  this  work  his  new  position  enabled  him  to 
back  the  authority  of  the  High  Commission  by  the  terrors  of  the  Star 
Chamber.  It  was  a  work,  indeed,  which  to  Laud's  mind  was  at  once 
civil  and  religious  :  he  had  allied  the  cause  of  ecclesiastical  organization 
with  that  of  absolutism  in  the  State  ;  and,  while  borrowing  the  power 
of  the  Crown  to  crush  ecclesiastical  liberty,  he  brought  the  influence  of 
the  Church  to  bear  on  the  ruin  of  civil  freedom.  But  his  power  stopped 
at  the  Scotch  frontier.  Across  the  Border  stood  a  Church  with  bishops 
indeed,  but  without  a  ritual,  modelled  on  the  doctrine  and  system 
of  Geneva,  Calvinist  in  teaching  and  to  a  great  extent  in  government. 
The  mere  existence  of  such  a  Church  gave  countenance  to  English 
Puritanism,  and  threatened  in  any  hour  of  ecclesiastical  weakness  to 
bring  a  dangerous  influence  to  bear  on  the  Church  of  England.  With 
Scotland,  indeed.  Laud  could  only  deal  indirectly  through  Charles, 
for  the  King  was  jealous  of  any  interference  of  his  English  ministers 
or  Parliament  with  his  Northern  Kingdom.  But  Charles  was  him- 
self earnest  to  deal  with  it.  He  had  imbibed  his  father's  hatred 
of  all  that  tended  to  Presbyterianism,  and  from  the  outset  of  his  reign 
he  had  been  making  advance  after  advance  towards  the  more  com- 
plete establishment  of  Episcopacy.  To  understand,  however,  what 
had  been  done,  and  the  relations  which  had  by  this  time  grown  up 
between  Scotland  and  its  King,  we  must  take  up  again  the  thread  of 
its  history  which  we  broke  at  the  moment  when  Mary  fled  for  refuge 
over  the  English  border. 

After  a  few  years  of  wise  and  able  rule,  the  triumph  of  Protestantism 
under  the  Earl  of  Murray  had  been  interrupted  by  his  assassination, 
by  the  revival  of  the  Queen's  faction,  and  by  the  renewal  of  civil  war. 
The  next  regent,  the  child-king's  grandfather,  was  slain  in  a  fray  ;  but 
under  the  strong  hand  of  Morton  the  land  won  a  short  breathing-space 
Edinburgh,  the  last  fortress  held  in  Mary's  name>  surrendered  to  an 
English  force  sent  by  Elizabeth  ;  and  its  captain,  Kirkcaldy  of  Grange, 
was  hanged  for  treason  in  the  market-place  ;  while  the  stem  justice  of 
Morton  forced  peace  upon  the  warring  lords.  The  people  of  the 
Lowlands,  indeed,  were  now  stanch  for  the  new  faith ;  and  the 
Protestant  Church  rose  rapidly  after  the  death  of  Knox  into  a  power 
which  appealed  at  every  critical  juncture  to  the  deeper  feelings  of  the 
nation  at  large.  In  the  battle  with  Catholicism  the  bishops  had  clung 
to  the  old  religion  ;  and  the  new  faith,  left  without  episcopal  interf^r- 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


523 


ence,  and  influenced  by  the  Genevan  training  of  Knox,  borrowed  from 
Calvin  its  model  of  Church  government,  as  it  borrowed  its  theology. 
The  system  of  Presbyterianism,  as  it  grew  up  at  the  outset  without 
direct  recognition  from  the  law,  not  only  bound  Scotland  together  as 
it  had  never  been  bound  before  by  its  administrative  organization,  its 
church  synods  and  general  assemblies,  but  by  the  power  it  gave  the 
lay  elders  in  each  congregation,  and  by  the  summons  of  laymen 
in  an  overpowering  majority  to  the  earlier  Assemblies,  it  called 
the  people  at  large  to  a  voice,  and  as  it  proved,  a  decisive  voice,  in 
the  administration  of  affairs.  If  its  government  by  ministers  gave  it 
the  outer  look  of  an  ecclesiastical  despotism,  no  Church  constitution 
has  proved  in  practice  so  democratic  as  that  of  Scotland.  Its  influence 
in  raising  the  nation  at  large  to  a  consciousness  of  its  own  power  is 
shown  by  the  change  which  passes,  from  the  moment  of  its  final 
establishment,  over  the  face  of  Scotch  history.  The  sphere  of  action 
to  which  it  called  the  people  was  in  fact  not  a  mere  ecclesiastical  but 
a  national  sphere  ;  and  the  power  of  the  Church  was  felt  more  and 
more  over  nobles  and  King.  When  after  five  years  the  union  of 
his  rivals  put  an  end  to  Morton's  regency,  the  possession  of  the  young 
sovereign,  James  the  Sixth,  and  the  exercise  of  the  royal  authority  in 
his  name,  became  the  constant  aim  of  the  factions  who  where  tearing 
Scotland  to  pieces.  As  James  grew  to  manhood,  however,  he  was 
strong  enough  to  break  the  yoke  of  the  lords,  and  to  become  master  of 
the  great  houses  that  had  so  long  overawed  the  Crown.  But  he  was 
farther  than  ever  from  being  absolute  master  of  his  realm.  Amidst  the 
turmoil  of  the  Reformation  a  new  force  had  come  to  the  front.  This 
was  the  Scotch  people  which  had  risen  into  being  under  the  guise  of 
the  Scotch  Kirk.  Melville,  the  greatest  of  the  successors  of  Knox, 
claimed  for  the  ecclesiastical  body  an  independence  of  the  State  which 
James  hardly  dared  to  resent,  while  he  struggled  helplessly  beneath 
the  sway  which  public  opinion,  expressed  through  the  General  Assembly 
of  the  Church,  exercized  over  the  civil  government.  In  the  great  crisis 
of  the  Armada  his  hands  were  fettered  by  the  league  with  England 
which  it  forced  upon  him.  The  democratic  boldness  of  Calvinism  aUied 
itself  with  the  spiritual  pride  of  the  Presbyterian  ministers  in  their 
deahngs  with  the  Crown.  Melville  in  open  council  took  James  by 
the  sleeve,  and  called  him  "  God's  silly  vassal."  "  There  are  two 
Kings,"  he  told  him,  "and  two  kingdoms  in  Scotland.  There  is 
Christ  Jesus  the  King,  and  His  Kingdom  the  Kirk,  whose  subject 
James  the  Sixth  is,  and  of  whose  kingdom  not  a  king,  nor  a  lord,  nor 
a  head,  but  a  member."  The  words  and  tone  of  the  great  preacher 
were  bitterly  remembered  when  James  mounted  the  English  throne. 
'*A  Scottish  Presbytery,"  he  exclaimed  years  afterwards  at  the 
Hampton  Court  Conference,  "  as  well  fitteth  with  Monarchy  as  God 
and  the  Devil  !     No  Bishop,  no  King  !  "     But  Scotland  was  resolved 


524 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


on  "  no  bishop,"  Episcopacy  had  become  identified  among  the  more 
zealous  Scotchmen  with  the  old  Catholicism  they  had  shaken  off. 
When  he  appeared  at  a  later  time  before  the  English  Council-table, 
Melville  took  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  by  the  sleeves  of  his 
rochet,  and,  shaking  them  in  his  manner,  called  them  Romish  rags, 
and  marks  of  the  Beast.  Four  years  therefore  after  the  ruin  of  the 
Armada,  Episcopacy  was  formally  abolished,  and  the  Presbyterian 
system  established  by  law  as  the  mode  of  government  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland.  The  rule  of  the  Church  was  placed  in  a  General 
Assembly,  with  subordinate  Provincial  Synods,  Presbyteries,  and 
Kirk  Sessions,  by  which  its  discipline  was  carried  down  to  every 
member  of  a  congregation.  All  that  James  could  save  was  the 
right  of  being  present  at  the  General  Assembly,  and  of  fixing  a 
time  and  place  for  its  annual  meeting.  But  James  had  no  sooner 
succeeded  to  the  English  throne  than  he  used  his  new  power  in 
a  struggle  to  undo  the  work  which  had  been  done.  In  spite  of  his 
assent  to  an  act  legalizing  its  annual  convention,  he  hindered  any 
meeting  of  the  (General  Assembly  for  five  successive  years  by  repeated 
prorogations.  The  protests  of  the  clergy  were  roughly  met.  When 
nineteen  ministers  constituted  themselves  an  Assembly  they  were 
banished  as  traitors  from  the  realm.  Cf  the  leaders  who  remained 
the  boldest  were  summoned  with  Andrew  Melville  to  confer  with  the 
King  in  England  on  his  projects  of  change.  On  their  refusal  to  betray 
the  freedom  of  the  Church  they  were  committed  to  prison  ;  and  an 
epigram  which  Melville  wrote  on  the  usages  of  the  English  com- 
munion was  seized  on  as  a  ground  for  bringing  him  before  the  English 
Privy  Council.  He  was  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  released  after  some 
years  of  imprisonment  only  to  go  into  exile.  Deprived  of  their  leaders, 
threatened  with  bonds  and  exile,  deserted  by  the  nobles,  ill  supported 
as  yet  by  the  mass  of  the  people,  the  Scottish  ministers  bent  before 
the  pressure  of  the  Crown.  Bishops  were  allowed  to  act  as  presidents 
in  their  synods ;  and  episcopacy  was  at  last  formally  recognized  in 
the  Scottish  Church.  The  pulpits  were  bridled.  The  General 
Assembly  was  brought  to  submission.  The  ministers  and  elders 
were  deprived  of  their  right  of  excommunicating  offenders,  save 
with  a  bishop's  sanction.  A  Court  of  High  Commission  enforced 
the  supremacy  of  the  Crown.  But  with  this  assertion  of  his  royal" 
authority  James  was  content.  His  aim  was  political  rather  than 
religious,  and  in  seizing  on  the  control  of  the  Church  through  his 
organized  prelacy,  he  held  himself  to  have  won  back  that  mastery 
of  his  realm  which  the  Reformation  had  reft  from  the  Scottish 
Kings.  The  earlier  policy  of  Charles  followed  his  father's  Hne  of 
action.  It  effected  little  save  a  partial  restoration  of  Church-lands, 
which  the  lords  were  f5rced  to  surrender.  But  Laud's  vigorous 
action  soon  made  itsel'  felt.     His  first  acts  were  directed  rather  tc 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


525 


points  of  outer  observance  than  to  any  attack  on.  the  actual  fabric  of 
Presbyterian  organization.  The  Estates  were  induced  to  withdraw  the 
control  of  ecclesiastical  apparel  from  the  Assembly,  and  to  commit  it 
to  the  Crown  ;  a  step  soon  followed  by  a  resumption  of  their  episcopal 
costume  on  the  part  of  the  Scotch  bishops.  When  the  Bishop  of 
Moray  preached  before  Charles  in  his  rochet,  on  the  King's  visit  to 
Edinburgh,  it  was  the  first  instance  of  its  use  since  the  Reformation. 
The  innovation  was  followed  "by  the  issue  of  a  royal  warrant  which 
directed  all  ministers  to  use  the  surplice  in  divine  worship.  From 
costume,  however,  the  busy  minister  soon  passed  to  weightier  matters. 
Many  years  had  gone  by  since  he  had  vainly  invited  James  to  draw  his 
Scotch  subjects  "  to  a  nearer  conjunction  with  the  liturgy  and  canons 
of  this  nation."  "  I  sent  him  back  again,"  said  the  shrewd  old  King, 
"  with  the  frivolous  draft  he  had  drawn.  For  all  that,  he  feared  not 
my  anger,  but  assaulted  me  again  with  another  ill-fangled  platform  to 
make  that  stubborn  Kirk  stoop  more  to  the  English  platform  ;  but  I 
durst  not  play  fast  and  loose  with  my  word.  He  knows  not  the  stomach 
of  that  people."  But  Laud  knew  how  to  wait,  and  his  time  had 
come  at  last.  He  was  resolved  to  put  an  end  to  the  Presbyterian 
character  of  the  Scotch  Church  altogether,  and  to  bring  it  to  a 
uniformity  with  the  Church  of  England.  A  book  of  canons  issued  by 
the  sole  authority  of  the  Kin^  placed  the  government  of  the  Church 
absolutely  in  the  hands  of  its  bishops  ;  no  Church  Assembly  might  be 
summoned  but  by  the  King,  no  alteration  in  worship  or  discipline 
introduced  but  by  his  permission.  As  daring  a  stretch  of  the  pre- 
rogative superseded  what  was  known  as  Knox's  Liturgy — the  book  of 
Common  Order  drawn  up  on  the  Genevan  model  by  that  Reformer, 
and  generally  used  throughout  Scotland — by  a  new  Liturgy  based  on 
the  English  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  The  liturgy  and  canons  drawn 
up  by  four  Scottish  bishops  were  laid  before  Laud  ;  in  their  composition 
the  General  Assembly  had  neither  been  consulted  nor  recognized  ;  and 
taken  together  they  formed  the  code  of  a  political  and  ecclesiastical 
system  which  aimed  at  reducing  Scotland  to  an  utter  subjection  to  the 
Crown.  To  enforce  them  on  the  land  was  to  effect  a  revolution  of  the 
most  serious  kind.  The  books  however  were  backed  by  a  royal  injunc- 
tion, and  Laud  flattered  himself  that  the  revolution  had  been  wrought. 
Triumphant  in  Scotland,  with  the  Scotch  Church — as  he  fancied 
—at  his  feet,  Laud's  hand  still  fell  heavily  on  the  English  Puritans. 
There  were  signs  of  a  change  of  temper  which  might  have  made 
even  a  bolder  m'an  pause.  Thousands  of  "  the  best,"  scholars, 
merchants,  lawyers,  farmers,  were  flying  over  the  Atlantic  to  seek 
freedom  and  purity  of  religion  in  the  wilderness.  Great  landowners 
and  nobles  were  preparing  to  follow.  Ministers  were  quitting  their 
parsonages  rather  than  abet  the  royal  insult  to  the  sanctity  of  the 
Sabbath.     The  Puritans  who  remained  among  the  clergy  were  giving 


526 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


up  their  homes  rather  than  consent  to  the  change  of  the  sacred  table 
into  an  altar,  or  to  silence  in  their  protests  against  the  new  Popery. 
The  noblest  of  living  Englishmen  refused  to  become  the  priest  of  a 
Church  whose  ministry  could  only  be  "  bought  with  servitude  and 
forswearing."  We  have  seen  John  Milton  leave  Cambridge,  self- 
dedicated  "  to  that  same  lot,  however  mean  or  high,  to  which  time 
leads  me  and  the  will  of  Heaven."  But  the  lot  to  which  these  called 
him  was  not  the  ministerial  office  to  which  he  had  been  destined  from 
his  childhood.  In  later  life  he  told  bitterly  the  story,  how  he  had  been 
"  Church-outed  by  the  prelates."  "  Coming  to  some  maturity  of  years, 
and  perceiving  what  tyranny  had  invaded  in  the  Church,  that  he  who 
would  take  orders  must  subscribe  slave,  and  take  an  oath  withal, 
which  unless  he  took  with  a  conscience  that  would  retch  he  must 
either  straight  perjure  or  split  his  faith,  I  thought  it  better  to  prefer  a 
blameless  silence  before  the  sacred  office  of  speaking,  bought  and 
begun  with  servitude  and  forswearing."  In  spite  therefore  of  his 
father's  regrets,  he  retired  to  a  new  home  which  the  scrivener  had 
found  at  Horton,  a  village  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Windsor,  and 
quietly  busied  himself  with  study  and  verse.  The  poetic  impulse  of 
the  Renascence  had  been  slowly  dying  away  under  the  Stuarts.  The 
stage  was  falling  into  mere  coarseness  and  horror  ;  Shakspere  had 
died  quietly  at  Stratford  in  Milton's  childhood  ;  the  last  and  worst 
play  of  Ben  Jonson  appeared  in  the  year  of  his  settlement  at  Horton  ; 
and  though  Ford  and  Massinger  still  lingered  on  there  were  no  suc- 
cessors for  them  but  Shirley  and  Davenant.  The  philosophic  and 
meditative  taste  of  the  age  had  produced  indeed  poetic  schools  of  its 
own :  poetic  satire  had  become  fashionable  in  Hall,  better  known 
afterwards  as  a  bishop,  and  had  been  carried  on  vigorously  by  George 
Wither  ;  the  so-called  "  metaphysical "  poetry,  the  vigorous  and  pithy 
expression  of  a  cold  and  prosaic  good  sense,  began  with  Sir  John 
Davies,  and  buried  itself  in  fantastic  affectations  in  Donne  ;  religious 
verse  had  become  popular  in  the  gloomy  allegories  of  Quarles  and  the 
tender  refinement  which  struggles  through  a  jungle  of  puns  and  ex- 
travagances in  George  Herbert.  But  what  poetic  life  really  remained 
was  to  be  found  only  in  the  caressing  fancy  and  lively  badinage  of 
lyric  singers  like  Herrick,  whose  grace  is  untouched  by  passion  and 
often  disfigured  by  coarseness  and  pedantry ;  or  in  the  school  of 
Spenser's  more  direct  successors,  where  Browne  in  his  pastorals,  and 
the  two  Fletchers,  Phineas  and  Giles,  in  their  unreadable  allegories, 
still  preserved  something  of  their  master's  sweetness,  if  they  preserved 
nothing  of  his  power.  Milton  was  himself  a  Spenserian  ;  he  owned  to 
Dryden  in  later  years  "  that  Spenser  was  his  original,"  and  in  some  of 
his  earliest  lines  at  Horton  he  dwells  lovingly  on  "  the  sage  and  solemn 
tones  "  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen,"  its  *'  forests  and  enchantments  drear, 
where  more  is  meant  than  meets  the  ear."    But  of  the  weakness  and 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


527 


affectation  which  characterized  Spenser's  successors  he  had  not  a  trace. 
In  the  "  Allegro  "  and  "  Penseroso,"  the  first  results  of  his  retirement 
at  Horton,  we  catch  again  the  fancy  and  melody  of  the  Elizabethan 
verse,  the  wealth  of  its  imagery,  its  wide  sympathy  with  nature  and 
man.  There  is  a  loss,  perhaps,  of  the  older  freedom  and  spontaneity 
of  the  Renascence,  a  rhetorical  rather  than  passionate  turn  in  the 
young  poet,  a  striking  absence  of  dramatic  power,  and  a  want  of  subtle 
precision  even  in  his  picturesque  touches.  Milton's  imagination  is  not 
strong  enough  to  identify  him  with  the  world  which  he  imagines  ;  he 
stands  apart  from  it,  and  looks  at  it  as  from  a  distance,  ordering  it 
and  arranging  it  at  his  will.  But  if  in  this  respect  he  falls,  both  in  his 
earlier  and  later  poems,  far  below  Shakspere  or  Spenser,  the  deficiency 
is  all  but  compensated  by  his  nobleness  of  feeling  and  expression,  the 
severity  of  his  taste,  his  sustained  dignity,  and  the  perfectness  and 
completeness  of  his  work.  The  moral  grandeur  of  the  Puritan  breathes, 
even  in  these  lighter  pieces  of  his  youth,  through  every  line.  The 
"  Comus,"  planned  as  a  masque  for  the  festivities  which  the  Earl  of 
Bridgewater  was  holding  at  Ludlow  Castle,  rises  into  an  almost  im- 
passioned pleading  for  the  love  of  virtue. 

The  historic  interest  of  Milton's  "  Comus  "  lies  in  its  forming  part  of 
a  protest  made  by  the  more  cultured  Puritans  at  this  time  against  the 
gloomier  bigotry  which  persecution  was  fostering  in  the  party  at  large. 
The  patience  of  Englishmen,  in  fact,  was  slowly  wearing  out.  There 
was  a  sudden  upgrowth  of  virulent  pamphlets  of  the  old  Martin  Mar- 
prelate  type.  Men,  whose  names  no  one  asked,  hawked  libels,  whose 
authorship  no  one  knew,  from  the  door  of  the  tradesman  to  the  door  of 
the  squire.  As  the  hopes  of  a  Parliament  grew  fainter,  and  men  de- 
spaired of  any  legal  remedy,  violent  and  weak-headed  fanatics  came,  as 
at  such  times  they  always  come,  to  the  front.  Leighton,  the  father  of 
the  saintly  Archbishop  of  that  name,  had  given  a  specimen  of  their  tone 
at  the  outset  of  this  period,  by  denouncing  the  prelates  as  men  of  blood. 
Episcopacy  as  Antichrist,  and  the  Popish  queen  as  a  daughter  of  Heth. 
The  "  Histrio-mastix  "  of  Prynne,  a  lawyer  distinguished  for  his  consti- 
tutional knowledge,  but  the  most  obstinate  and  narrow-minded  of  men, 
marked  the  deepening  of  Puritan  bigotry  under  the  fostering  warmth  of 
Laud's  persecution.  The  book  was  an  attack  on  players  as  the  minis- 
ters of  Satan,  on  theatres  as  the  devil's  chapels,  on  hunting,  maypoles, 
the  decking  of  houses  at  Christmas  with  evergreens,  on  cards,  music, 
and  false  hair.  The  attack  on  the  stage  was  as  offensive  to  the  more 
cultured  minds  among  the  Puritan  party  as  to  the  Court  itself ;  Selden 
and  Whitelock  took  a  prominent  part  in  preparing  a  grand  masque  by 
which  the  Inns  of  Court  resolved  to  answer  its  challenge,  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  Milton  wrote  his  masque  of  "  Comus"  for  Ludlow  Castle. 
To  leave  Prynne,  however,  simply  to  the  censure  of  wiser  men  than  him- 
self was  too  sensible  a  course  for  the  angry  Primate.     No  man  was  ever 


Sec.  V. 
The 

PER^ONAL 

Govern- 
ment 

1629 

TO 

1640 


1634 


H  amp  den 
and  Ship- 
money 


1633 


528 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  V. 

The 
Personal 
Govern- 
ment 

1629 

TO 

1640 


Ship-money 
1634 


Th4n«^tt 

Shi^money 

1635 


sent  to  prison  before  or  since  for  such  a  sheer  mass  of  nonsense  ;  but 
a  passage  in  the  book  was  taken  as  a  reflection  on  the  Queen,  and  his 
sentence  showed  the  hard  cruelty  of  the  Primate.  Prynne  was  dis- 
missed from  the  bar,  deprived  of  his  university  degree,  and  set  in  the 
pillory.  His  ears  were  clipped  from  his  head,  and  he  was  taken  back 
to  prison.  But  the  storm  of  popular  passion  which  was  gathering  was 
not  so  pressing  a  difficulty  to  the  royal  ministers  at  this  time  as  the 
old  difficulty  of  the  exchequer.  The  ingenious  devices  of  the  Court 
lawyers,  the  revived  prerogatives,  the  illegal  customs,  the  fines  and 
confiscations  which  were  alienating  one  class  after  another  and  sowing 
in  home  after  home  the  seeds  of  a  bitter  hatred  to  the  Crown,  were 
insufficient  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  Treasury  ;  and  new  exactions 
were  necessary,  at  a  time  when  the  rising  discontent  made  every  new 
exaction  a  challenge  to  revolt.  A  fresh  danger  had  suddenly  appeared 
in  an  alliance  of  France  and  Holland  which  threatened  English  domi- 
nion over  the  Channel  ;  and  there  were  rumours  of  a  proposed  partition 
of  the  Spanish  Netherlands  between  the  two  powers.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  put  a  strong  fleet  on  the  seas  ;  and  the  money  which  had  to 
be  found  at  home  was  procured  by  a  stretch  of  the  prerogative  which 
led  afterwards  to  the  great  contest  over  ship-money.  The  legal  research 
of  Noy,  one  of  the  law  officers  of  the  Crown,  found  precedents  among 
the  records  in  the  Tower  for  the  provision  of  ships  for  the  King's  use 
by  the  port-towns  of  the  kingdom,  and  for  the  furnishing  of  their 
equipment  by  the  maritime  counties.  The  precedents  dated  from 
times  when  no  permanent  fleet  existed,  and  when  sea  warfare  was 
waged  by  vessels  lent  for  the  moment  by  the  various  ports.  But  they 
were  seized  as  a  means  of  equipping  a  permanent  navy  without  cost 
to  the  exchequer  ;  the  first  demand  for  ships  was  soon  commuted  into 
a  demand  of  money  for  the  payment  of  ships  ;  and  the  writs  which 
were  issued  to  London  and  the  chief  English  ports  were  enforced  by 
fine  and  imprisonment.  When  Laud  took  the  direction  of  affairs  a 
more  vigorous  and  unscrupulous  impulse  made  itself  felt.  To  Laud 
as  to  Wentworth,  indeed,  the  King  seemed  over-cautious,  the  Star 
Chamber  feeble,  the  judges  over-scrupulous.  "  I  am  for  Thorough," 
the  one  writes  to  the  other  in  alternate  fits  of  impatience  at  the  slow 
progress  they  are  making.  Wentworth  was  anxious  that  his  good 
work  might  not  "  be  spoiled  on  that  side."  Laud  echoed  the  wish, 
while  he  envied  the  free  course  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant.  "  You  have  a 
good  deal  of  honour  here,"  he  writes,  "  for  your  proceeding.  Go  on 
a'  God's  name.  I  have  done  with  expecting  of  Thorough  on  this 
side."  The  financial  pressure  was  seized  by  both  to  force  the  King 
on  to  a  bolder  course.  "  The  debt  of  the  Crown  being  taken  off," 
Wentworth  urged,  "you  may  govern  at  your  will."  All  pretence  of 
precedents  was  thrown  aside,  and  Laud  resolved  to  find  a  permanent 
revenue  in  the  conversion  of  the  "  ship-money,"  till  now  levied  on 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


529 


ports  and  the  maritime  counties,  iuto  a  general  tax  imposed  by 
the  royal  will  upon  the  whole  country.  "  I  know  no  reason,"  Went- 
worth  had  written  significantly,  "but  you  may  as  well  rule  the 
common  lawyers  in  England  as  I,  poor  beagle,  do  here;"  and  the 
judges  no  sooner  declared  the  new  impost  to  be  legal  than  he  drew 
the  logical  deduction  from  their  decision.  "  Since  it  is  lawful  for  the 
King  to  impose  a  tax  for  the  equipment  of  the  navy,  it  must  be  equally 
so  for  the  levy  of  an  army :  and  the  same  reason  which  authorizes  him 
to  levy  an  army  to  resist,  will  authorize  him  to  carry  that  army  abroad 
that  he  may  prevent  invasion.  Moreover  what  is  law  in  England  is  law 
also  in  Scotland  and  Ireland.  The  decision  of  the  judges  will  there- 
fore make  the  King  absolute  at  home  and  formidable  abroad.  Let  him 
only  abstain  from  war  for  a  few  years  that  he  may  habituate  his 
subjects  to  the  payment  of  that  tax,  and  in  the  end  he  will  find 
himself  more  powerful  and  respected  than  any  of  his  predecessors." 
But  there  were  men  who  saw  the  danger  to  freedom  in  this  levy  of 
ship-money  as  clearly  as  Wentworth  himself.  The  bulk  of  the  country 
party  abandoned  all  hope  of  English  freedom.  There  was  a  sudden 
revival  of  the  emigration  to  New  England  ;  and  men  of  blood  and 
fortune  now  prepared  to  seek  a  new  home  in  the  West.  Lord  Warwick 
secured  the  proprietorship  of  the  Connecticut  valley.  Lord  Saye  and 
Sele  and  Lord  Brooke  began  negotiations  for  transporting  themselves 
to  the  New  World.  Oliver  Cromwell  is  said,  by  a  doubtful  tradition, 
to  have  only  been  prevented  from  crossing  the  seas  by  a  royal 
embargo.  It  is  more  certain  that  Hampden  purchased  a  tract  of 
land  on  the  Narragansett.  John  Hampden,  a  friend  of  Eliot's,  a  man 
of  consummate  ability,  of  unequalled  power  of  persuasion,  of  a  keen 
intelligence,  ripe  learning,  and  a  character  singularly  pure  and  loveable, 
had  already  shown  the  firmness  of  his  temper  in  his  refusal  to  contri- 
bute to  the  forced  loan  of  1627.  He  now  repeated  his  refusal,  declared 
ship-money  an  illegal  impost,  and  resolved  to  rouse  the  spirit  of  the 
country  by  an  appeal  for  protection  to  the  law. 

The  news  of  Hampden's  resistance  thrilled  through  England  at  a 
moment  when  men  were  roused  by  the  news  of  resistance  in  the  north. 
The  patience  of  Scotland  had  found  an  end  at  last.  While  England 
was  waiting  for  the  opening  of  the  great  cause  of  ship-money,  peremp- 
tory orders  from  the  King  forced  the  clergy  of  Edinburgh  to  introduce 
the  new  service  into  their  churches.  But  the  Prayer  Book  was  no 
sooner  opened  at  the  church  of  St.  Giles's  than  a  murmur  ran  through 
the  congregation,  and  the  murmur  soon  grew  into  a  formidable  riot. 
The  church  was  cleared,  and  the  service  read  ;  but  the  rising  discon- 
tent frightened  the  judges  into  a  decision  that  the  royal  writ  enjoined 
the  purchase,  and  not  the  use,  of  the  Prayer  Book.  Its  use  was  at 
once  discontinued,  and  the  angry  orders  which  came  from  England 
for  its  restoration  were  met  by  a  shower  of  protests  from  every  part  of 


S30 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  V. 

Thh 
Personal 
Govern- 
ment 

1629 

TO 

1640 


Hampden  s 
trial 

Nov.    \(>yi 


/unf  1638 


Scotland.      The  Duke  of  Lennox  alone  took  sixty-eight  petitions  with 
him  to  the  court ;   while  ministers,  nobles,  and  gentry  poured  into 
Edinburgh  to  organize  the  national  resistance.      The  effect  of  these 
events  in  Scotland  was  at  once  seen  in  the  open  demonstration  of  dis- 
content  south   of  the  border.      The   prison   with   which    Laud  had 
rewarded  Prynne's  bulky  quarto  had  tamed  his  spirit  so  little  that  a 
new  tract  written  within  its  walls  attacked  the  bishops  as  devouring 
wolves   and  lords  of  Lucifer..      A  fellow-prisoner,    John    Bastwick, 
declared  in  his  "  Litany"  that  "  Hell  was  broke  loose,  and  the  Devils 
in  surplices,  hoods,  copes,  and  rochets,  were  come  among  us."  Burton, 
a  London  clergyman  silenced  by  the  High  Commission,  called  on  all 
Christians  to  resist  the  bishops  as  "robbers  of  souls,  Hmbs  of  the 
Beast,  and  factors  of  Antichrist"     Raving  of  this  sort  might  have  been 
passed  by  had  not  the  general  sympathy  shown  how  fast  the  storm  of 
popular  passion  was  rising.      Prynne  and  his  fellow  pamphleteers, 
when  Laud  dragged  them  before  the  Star  Chamber  as  "  trumpets  of 
sedition,"  listened  with  defiance  to  their  sentence  of  exposure  in  the 
pillory  and  imprisonment  for  life  ;  and  the  crowd  who  filled  Palace 
Yard  to  witness  their  punishment  groaned  at  the  cutting  off  of  their 
ears,  and  "  gave  a  great  shout "  when  Prynne  urged  that  the  sentence 
on  him  was  contrary  to  the  law.     A  hundred  thousand  Londoners 
lined  the  road  as  they  passed  on  the  way  to  prison  ;  and  the  journey 
of  these  "  Martyrs,"  as  the  spectators  called  them,  was  like  a  triumphal 
progress.      Startled  as  he  was  at  the  sudden  burst  of  popular  feeling. 
Laud    remained    dauntless   as   ever.      Prynne's   entertainers   as    he 
passed  through  the  country  were  summoned  before  the  Star  Chamber, 
while  the  censorship  struck  fiercer  blows  at  the  Puritan  press.      But 
the  real  danger  lay  not  in  the  libels  of  silly  zealots  but  in  the  attitude 
of  Scotland,  and  in  the  effect  which  was  being  produced  in  England 
at  large  by  the  trial  of  Hampden.     For  twelve  days  the  cause  of  ship- 
money  was  solemnly  argued  before  the  full  bench  of  judges       It  was 
proved  that  the  tax  in  past  times  had  been  levied  only  in  cases  of 
sudden  emergency,  and  confined  to  the  coast  and  port  towns  alone, 
and  that  even  the  show  of  legality  had  been  taken  from  it  by  formal 
statute  :  it  was  declared  a  breach  of  the  "  fundamental  laws  "  of  Eng- 
land.    The  case  was  adjourned,  but  the  discussion  told  not  merely  on 
England  but  on  the  temper  of  the  Scots.     Charles  had  replied  to  their 
petitions  by  a  simple  order  to  all  strangers  to  leave  the  capital.     But 
the  Council  at  Edinburgh  was  unable  to  enforce  his  order ;  and  the 
nobles  and  gentry  before  dispersing  to  their  homes  named  a  body  of 
delegates,  under  the  odd  title  of  "  the  Tables,"  who  carried  on  through 
the  winter  a  series  of  negotiations  with  the  Crown.     The  negotiations 
were  interrupted  in  the  following  spring  by  a  renewed  order  for  their 
dispersion,  and  for  the  acceptance  of  a  Prayer  Book  ;  while  the  judges 
in  England  delivered  at  last  their  long-delayed  decision  on  Hampden's 


fill.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


531 


case.  Two  judges  only  pronounced  in  his  favour  ;  though  three  fol- 
lowed them  on  technical  grounds.  The  majority,  seven  in  number, 
gave  judgement  against  him.  The  broad  principle  was  laid  down  that 
no  statute  prohibiting  arbitrary  taxation  could  be  pleaded  against  the 
King's  will.  "  I  never  read  or  heard,"  said  Judge  Berkley,  "that  lex 
was  rex,  but  it  is  common  and  most  true  that  rex  is  lex."  Finch,  the 
Chief-Justice,  summed  up  the  opinions  of  his  fellow  judges.  "  Acts  of 
Parliament  to  take  away  the  King's  royal  power  in  the  defence  of  his 
kingdom  are  void,"  he  said  :...."  they  are  void  Acts  of  Parliament 
to  bind  the  King  not  to  command  the  subjects,  their  persons,  and 
goods,  and  I  say  their  money  too,  for  no  Acts  of  Parliament  make 
any  difference." 

"  I  wish  Mr.  Hampden  and  others  to  his  likeness,"  the  Lord  Deputy 
wrote  bitterly  from  Ireland,  "  were  well  whipt  into  their  right  senses." 
Amidst  the  exultation  of  the  Court  over  the  decision  of  the  judges, 
Went  worth  saw  clearly  that  Hampden's  work  had  been  done.  His 
resistance  had  roused  England  to  a  sense  of  the  danger  to  her  freedom, 
and  forced  into  light  the  real  character  of  the  royal  claims.  How 
stern  and  bitter  the  temper  even  of  the  noblest  Puritans  had  become 
at  last  we  see  in  the  poem  which  Milton  produced  at  this  time,  his 
elegy  of  "  Lycidas."  Its  grave  and  tender  lament  is  broken  by  a 
sudden  flash  of  indignation  at  the  dangers  around  the  Church,  at  the 
"blind  mouths  that  scarce  themselves  know  how  to  hold  a  sheep- 
hook,"  and  to  whom  "  the  hungry  sheep  look  up,  and  are  not  fed," 
while  "  the  grim  wolf"  of  Rome  "  with  privy  paw  daily  devours  apace, 
and  nothing  said !  "  The  stern  resolve  of  the  people  to  demand  justice 
on  their  tyrants  spoke  in  his  threat  of  the  axe.  Wentworth  and 
Laud,  and  Charles  himself,  had  yet  to  reckon  with  "  that  two-handed 
engine  at  the  door"  which  stood  "ready  to  smite  once,  and  smite  no 
more."  But  stern  as  was  the  general  resolve,  there  was  no  need  for 
immediate  action,  for  the  difficulties  which  were  gathering  in  the  north 
were  certain  to  bring  a  strain  on  the  Government  which  would  force 
it  to  seek  support  from  the  people.  The  King's  demand  for  immediate 
submission,  which  reached  Edinburgh  while  England  was  waiting  for 
the  Hampden  judgment,  at  once  gathered  the  whole  body  of  remon- 
strants together  round  "the  Tables"  at  Edinburgh;  and  a  protestation, 
read  at  Edinburgh  and  Stirling,  was  followed,  on  Johnston  of  Warris- 
ton's  suggestion,  by  a  renewal  of  the  Covenant  with  God  which  had 
been  drawn  up  and  sworn  to  in  a  previous  hour  of  peril,  when  Mary 
was  still  plotting  against  Protestantism,  and  Spain  was  preparing  its 
Armada.  "  We  promise  and  swear,"  ran  the  solemn  engagement  at 
its  close,  "by  the  great  name  of  the  Lord  our  God,  to  continue  in  the 
profession  and  obedience  of  the  said  religion,  and  that  we  shall  defend 
the  same,  and  resist  all  their  contrary  errors  and  corruptions,  accord- 
ing to  our  vocation  and  the  utmost  of  that  power  which  God  has  put^ 


532 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


into  our  hands  all  the  days  of  our  life."  The  Covenant  was  signed  in 
the  churchyard  of  the  Grey  Friars  at  Edinburgh,  in  a  tumult  of 
enthusiasm,  "  with  such  content  and  joy  as  those  who,  having  long 
before  been  outlaws  and  rebels,  are  admitted  again  into  covenant  with 
God."  Gentlemen  and  nobles  rode  with  the  documents  in  their 
pockets  over  the  country,  gathering  subscriptions  to  it,  while  the 
ministers  pressed  for  a  general  consent  to  it  from  the  pulpit.  But 
pressure  was  needless.  "  Such  was  the  zeal  of  subscribers  that  for  a 
while  many  subscribed  with  tears  on  their  cheeks  ; "  some  were  indeed 
reputed  to  have  "  drawn  their  own  blood  and  used  it  in  place  of  ink 
to  underwrite  their  names."  The  force  given  to  Scottish  freedom  by 
this  revival  of  religious  fervour  was  seen  in  the  new  tone  adopted  by 
the  Covenanters.  The  Marquis  of  Hamilton,  who  came  as  Royal 
Commissioner  to  put  an  end  to  the  quarrel,  was  at  once  met  by 
demands  for  an  abolition  of  the  Court  of  High  Commission,  the  with- 
drawal of  the  Books  of  Canons  and  Common  Prayer,  a  free  Parliament, 
and  a  free  General  Assembly.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  threatened  war; 
even  the  Scotch  Council  pressed  Charles  to  give  fuller  satisfaction  to 
the  people.  '*  I  will  rather  die,"  the  King  wrote  to  Hamilton,  "than 
yield  to  these  impertinent  and  damnable  demands  ; "  but  it  was  needful 
to  gain  time.  "  The  discontents  at  home,"  wrote  Lord  Northumber- 
land to  Wentvvorth,  "  do  rather  increase  than  lessen  :  "  and  Charles 
was  without  money  or  men.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  begged  for  a  loan 
from  Spain  on  promise  of  declaring  war  against  Holland,  or  that  he 
tried  to  procure  two  thousand  troops  from  Flanders  with  which  to 
occupy  Edinburgh.  The  loan  and  troops  were  both  refused,  and  some 
contributions  offered  by  the  English  Catholics  did  little  to  recruit  the 
Exchequer.  Charles  had  directed  the  Marquis  to  delay  any  decisive 
breach  till  the  royal  fleet  appeared  in  the  Forth  ;  but  it  wks  hard  to 
equip  a  fleet  at  all.  Scotland  indeed  was  sooner  ready  for  war  than 
the  King.  The  Scotch  volunteers  who  had  been  serving  in  the  Thirty 
Years'  War  streamed  home  at  the  call  of  their  brethren.  General 
Leslie,  a  veteran  trained  under  Gustavus,  came  from  Sweden  to  take 
the  command  of  the  new  forces.  A  voluntary  war  tax  was  levied  in 
every  sliire.  The  danger  at  last  forced  the  King  to  yield  to  the  Scotch 
demands ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  yielded  than  the  concession  was 
withdrawn,  and  the  Assembly  hardly  met  before  it  was  called  upon  to 
disperse.  By  an  almost  unanimous  vote,  however,  it  resolved  to  con- 
tinue its  session.  The  innovations  in  worship  and  discipline  were 
abolished,  episcopacy  was  abjured,  the  bishops  deposed,  and  the 
system  of  Presbyterianism  re-established  in  its  fullest  extent.  The 
news  that  Charles  was  gathering  an  army  at  York,  and  reckoning  for 
support  on  the  scattered  loyalists  in  Scotland  itself,  was  answered  by  the 
seizure  of  Edinburgh,  Dumbarton,  and  Stirling ;  while  10,000  well- 
equipped  troops  under  Leslie  and  the  Earl  of  Montrose  entered  Ab«r- 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


533 


deen,  and  brought  the  Catholic  Earl  of  Huntly  a  prisoner  to  the  south. 
Instead  of  overawing  the  country,  the  appearance  of  the  royal  fleet 
in  the  Forth  was  the  signal  for  Leslie's  march  with  20,000  men  to  the 
Border.  Charles  had  hardly  pushed  across  the  Tweed,  when  the  "  old 
little  crooked  soldier,  "  encamping  on  the  hill  of  Dunse  Law,  fairly 
offered  him  battle. 

Charles  however,  without  money  to  carry  on  war,  was  forced  to  consent 
to  the  gathering  of  a  free  Assembly  and  of  a  Scotch  Parliament.  But  in 
his  eyes  the  pacification  at  Berwick  was  a  mere  suspension  of  arms ;  his 
summons  of  Wentworth  from  Ireland  was  a  proof  that  violent  measures 
were  in  preparation,  and  the  Scots  met  the  challenge  by  seeking  for 
aid  from  France.  The  discovery  of  a  correspondence  between  the 
Scotch  leaders  and  the  French  court  raised  hopes  in  the  King  that  an 
appeal  to  the  country  for  aid  against  Scotch  treason  would  still  find  an 
answer  in  English  loyalty.  Wentworth,  who  was  now  made  Earl  of 
Strafford,  had  never  ceased  to  urge  that  the  Scots  should  be  whipped 
back  to  their  border ;  he  now  agreed  with  Charles  that  a  Parliament 
should  be  called,  the  correspondence  laid  before  it,  and  advantage  taken 
of  the  burst  of  indignation  on  which  the  King  counted  to  procure  a 
heavy  subsidy.  While  Charles  summoned  what  from  its  brief  duration 
is  known  as  the  Short  Parliament,  Strafford  hurried  to  Ireland  to  levy 
forces.  In  fourteen  days  he  had  obtained  money  and  men  from  his 
servile  Parliament,  and  he  came  back  flushed  with  his  success,  in  time 
for  the  meeting  of  the  Houses  at  Westminster.  But  the  lesson  failed 
in  its  effect.  Every  member  of  the  Commons  knew  that  Scotland 
was  fighting  the  battle  of  English  liberty.  All  hope  of  bringing  them 
to  any  attack  upon  the  Scots  proved  fruitless.  The  intercepted  letters 
were  quietly  set  aside,  and  the  Commons  declared  as  of  old  that 
redress  of  grievances  must  precede  the  grant  of  supplies.  No  subsidy 
could  be  granted  till  security  was  had  for  religion,  for  property,  and 
for  the  liberties  of  Parliament.  An  offer  to  relinquish  ship-money 
failed  to  draw  Parliament  from  its  resolve,  and  after  three  weeks' 
sitting  it  was  dissolved.  "  Things  must  go  worse  before  they  go  better  " 
was  the  cool  comment  of  St.  John,  one  of  the  patriot  leaders.  But 
the  country  was  strangely  moved.  "  So  great  a  defection  in  the 
kingdom,"  wrote  Lord  Northumberland,  "  hath  not  been  known  in 
the  memory  of  man."  Strafford  alone  stood  undaunted.  He  urged 
that,  by  the  refusal  of  the  Parliament  to  supply  the  King's  wants, 
Charles  was  "  freed  from  all  rule  of  government,"  and  entitled  to 
supply  himself  at  his  will.  The  Earl  was  bent  upon  war,  and  took 
command  of  the  royal  army,  which  again  advanced  to  the  north. 
But  the  Scots  were  ready  to  cross  the  border  ;  forcing  the  passage  of 
the  Tyne  in  the  face  of  an  Enghsh  detachment,  they  occupied  New- 
castle, and  despatched  from  that  town  their  proposals  of  peace.  They 
prayed  the  King  to  consider  their  grievances,  and,  "  with  the  advice 


534 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


and  consent  of  the  Estates  of  England  convened  in  Parliament,  to 
settle  a  firm  and  desirable  peace."  The  prayer  was  backed  by  pre- 
parations for  a  march  upon  York,  where  Charles  had  abandoned 
himself  to  despair  Strafford's  troops  were  a  mere  mob  ;  neither  by 
threats  nor  prayers  could  he  recall  them  to  their  duty,  and  he  was 
forced  to  own  that  two  months  were  required  before  they  could  be  fit 
for  action.  It  was  in  vain  that  Charles  won  a  truce.  Behind  him  in 
fact  England  was  all  but  in  revolt.  The  London  apprentices  mobbed 
Laud  at  Lambeth,  and  broke  up  the  sittings  of  the  High  Commission 
at  St.  Paul's.  The  war  was  denounced  everywhere  as  "  the  Bishops' 
War,"  and  the  new  levies  murdered  officers  whom  they  suspected  of 
Papistry,  broke  down  altar-rails  in  every  church  they  passed,  and 
deserted  to  their  homes.  Two  peers,  Lord  Wharton  and  Lord  Howard, 
ventured  to  lay  before  the  King  himself  a  petition  for  peace  with  the 
Scots  ;  and  though  Strafford  arrested  and  proposed  to  shoot  them  as 
mutineers,  the  English  Council  shrank  from  desperate  courses.  The 
King  still  strove  to  escape  from  the  humiliation  of  calling  a  Parlia- 
ment. He  summoned  a  Great  Council  of  the  Peers  at  York.  But  his 
project  broke  down  before  its  general  repudiation  by  the  nobles  ;  and 
with  wrath  and  shame  at  his  heart  Charles  was  driven  to  summon 
again  the  Houses  to  Westminster. 


Section  VI.— The  Iion^  Parliament.    1640-ie^M.. 

[Authorities. — Clarendon's  '*  History  of  the  Rebellion,"  as  Hallam  justi> 
says,  "belongs  rather  to  the  class  of  memoirs"  than  of  histories,  and  the 
rigorous  analysis  of  it  by  Kanke  shows  the  very  different  value  of  its  various 
parts.  Though  the  work  will  always  retain  a  literary  interest  from  its  noble- 
ness of  style  and  the  grand  series  of  character-portraits  which  it  embodies,  the 
worth  of  its  account  of  all  that  preceded  the  war  is  almost  destroyed  by  the 
contrast  between  its  author's  conduct  at  the  time  and  his  later  description  of 
the  Parliament's  proceedings,  as  well  as  by  the  deliberate  and  malignant  false- 
hood with  which  he  has  perverted  the  whole  action  of  his  parliamentary  oppo* 
nents.  May's  "History  of  the  Long  Parliament"  is  fairly  accurate  and 
impartial  ;  but  the  basis  of  any  real  account  of  it  must  be  found  in  its  own 
proceedings  as  they  have  been  preserved  in  the  notes  of  Sir  Ralph  Vemey  and 
Sir  Simonds  D'Ewes.  The  last  remain  unpublished  ;  but  Mr.  Forster  has 
drawn  much  from  them  in  his  two  works,  "The  Grand  Remonstrance"  and 
"The  Arrest  of  the  Five  Members."  The  collections  of  state- papers  by  Rush- 
worth  and  Nalson  are  indispensable  for  this  period.  It  is  illustrated  by  a  scries 
of  memoirs,  of  very  different  degrees  of  value,  such  as  those  of  Whjtelock, 
Ludlow,  and  Sir  Philip  Warwick,  as  well  as  by  works  like  Mrs,  Hutchinson's 
memoir  of  her  husband,  or  Baxter's  "  Autobiography."  For  Irish  affairs  we 
have  a  vast  store  of  materials  in  the  Ormond  papers  and  letters  collected  by 
Carte  ;  for  Scotland,  "  Baillie's  Letters"  and  Mr.  Burton's  History.  Lingard 
is  useful  for  information  as  to  intrigues  with  the  Catholics  in  England  and 
Ireland  ;  and  Guirot  directs  special  attention  to  the  relations  witn  foreign 
powers.  Pym  has  been  fairly  sketched  with  other  statesmen  of  the  lime  by 
Mr.  Forster  in  his   "Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth,"  and  in  an  Essay  on 


vin.J 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


535 


him  by  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith.  A  good  deal  of  valuable  research  for  the  period 
in  general  is  to  be  foimd  in  Mr.  Sandford's  "  Illustrations  of  the  Great 
Rebellion."]     (Mr.  Gardiner  has  now  carried  on  his  History  to  1644. — Ed.) 

If  Strafford  embodied  the  spirit  of  tyranny,  John  Pym,  the  leader  of 
the  Commons  from  the  first  meeting  of  the  new  houses  at  West- 
minster, stands  out  for  all  after  time  as  the  embodiment  of  law.  A 
Somersetshire  gentleman  of  good  birth  and  competent  fortune,  he 
entered  on  public  life  in  the  Parliament  of  161 4,  and  was  imprisoned 
for  his  patriotism  at  its  close.  He  had  been  a  leading  member  in 
that  of  1620,  and  one  of  the  "twelve  ambassadors  "  for  whom  James 
ordered  chairs  to  be  set  at  Whitehall.  Of  the  band  of  patriots  with 
whom  he  had  stood  side  by  side  in  the  constitutional  struggle  against 
the  earlier  despotism  of  Charles  he  was  almost  the  sole  survivor.  Coke 
had  died  of  old  age  ;  Cotton's  heart  was  broken  by  oppression  ;  Eliot 
had  perished  in  the  Tower  ;  Wentworth  had  apostatized.  Pym  alone 
remained,  resolute,  patient  as  of  old  ;  and  as  the  sense  of  his  greatness 
grew  silently  during  the  eleven  years  of  deepening  misrule,  the  hope 
and  faith  of  better  things  clung  almost  passionately  to  the  man  who 
never  doubted  of  the  final  triumph  of  freedom  and  the  law.  At 
their  close.  Clarendon  tells  us,  in  words  all  the  more  notable  for  their 
bitter  tone  of  hate,  "  he  was  the  most  popular  man,  and  the  most  able 
to  do  hurt,  that  has  lived  at  any  time."  He  had  shown  he  knew 
how  to  wait,  and  when  waiting  was  over  he  showed  he  knew  how 
to  act.  On  the  eve  of  the  Long  Parliament  he  rode  through  England 
to  quicken  the  electors  to  a  sense  of  the  crisis  which  had  come  at 
last ;  and  on  the  assembling  of  the  Commons  he  took  his  place,  not 
merely  as  member  for  Tavistock,  but  as  their  acknowledged  head. 
Few  of  the  country  gentlemen,  indeed,  who  formed  the  bulk  of  the 
members,  had  sat  in  any  previous  House  ;  and  of  the  few,  none 
represented  in  so  eminent  a  way  the  Parliamentary  tradition  on  which 
the  coming  struggle  was  to  turn.  Pym's  eloquence,  inferior  in  bold- 
ness and  originality  to  that  of  Eliot  or  Wentworth,  was  better  suited 
by  its  massive  and  logical  force  to  convince  and  guide  a  great  party  ; 
and  it  was  backed  by  a  calmness  of  temper,  a  dexterity  and  order  in 
the  management  of  public  business,  and  a  practical  power  of  shaping 
the  course  of  debate,  which  gave  a  form  and  method  to  Parliamentary 
proceedings  such  as  they  had  never  had  before.  Valuable,  however, 
as  these  qualities  were,  it  was  a  yet  higher  quality  which  raised  Pym 
into  the  greatest,  as  he  was  the  first,  of  Parliamentary  leaders.  Of  the 
five  hundred  members  who  sate  round  him  at  St.  Stephen's,  he  was 
the  one  man  who  had  clearly  foreseen,  and  as  clearly  resolved  how  to 
meet,  the  difficulties  which  lay  before  them.  It  was  certain  that  Par- 
liament would  be  drawn  into  a  struggle  with  the  Crown.  It  was 
probable  that  in  such  a  struggle  the  House  of  Commons  would  be 
hampered,  as  it  had  been  hampered  before,  by  the  House  of  Lords. 


536 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


The  legal  antiquaries  of  the  older  constitutional  school  stood  helpless 
before  such  a  conflict  of  co-ordinate  powers,  a  conflict  for  which  no 
provision  had  been  made  by  the  law,  and  on  which  precedents  threw 
only  a  doubtful  and  conflicting  light.  But  with  a  knowledge  of 
precedent  as  great  as  their  own,  Pym  rose  high  above  them  in  his 
grasp  of  constitutional  principles.  He  was  the  first  English  statesman 
who  discovered,  and  applied  to  the  political  circumstances  around 
him,  what  may  be  called  the  doctrine  of  constitutional  proportion. 
He  saw  that  as  an  element  of  constitutional  life  Parliament  was  of 
higher  value  than  the  Crown  ;  he  saw,  too,  that  in  Parliament  itself 
the  one  essential  part  was  the  House  of  Commons.  On  these  two 
facts  he  based  his  whole  policy  in  the  contest  which  followed.  When 
Charles  refused  to  act  with  the  Parliament,  Pym  treated  the  refusal  as 
a  temporary  abdication  on  the  part  of  the  sovereign,  which  vested  the 
executive  power  in  the  two  Houses  until  new  arrangements  were  made. 
When  the  Lords  obstructed  public  business,  he  warned  them  that 
obstruction  would  only  force  the  Commons  "to  save  the  kingdom 
alone."  Revolutionary  as  these  principles  seemed  at  the  time,  they 
have  both  been  recognized  as  bases  of  our  constitution  since  the  days 
of  Pym.  The  first  principle  was  established  by  the  Convention  and 
Parliament  which  followed  on  the  departure  of  James  the  Second  ;  the 
second  by  the  acknowledgement  on  all  sides  since  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1832  that  the  government  of  the  country  is  really  in  the  hands  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  can  only  be  carried  on  by  ministers  who 
represent  the  majority  of  that  House.  Pym's  temper,  indeed,  was  the 
very  opposite  of  the  temper  of  a  revolutionist.  Few  natures  have  ever 
been  wider  in  their  range  of  sympathy  or  action.  Serious  as  his 
purpose  was,  his  manners  were  genial,  and  even  courtly  :  he  turned 
easily  from  an  invective  against  Strafi'ord  to  a  chat  with  Lady  Carlisle  ; 
and  the  grace  and  gaiety  of  his  social  tone,  even  when  the  care  and 
weight  of  public  affairs  were  bringing  him  to  his  grave,  gave  rise 
to  a  hundred  silly  scandals  among  the  prurient  royalists.  It  was  this 
striking  combination  of  genial  versatility  with  a  massive  force  in  his 
nature  which  marked  him  out  from  the  first  moment  of  power  as  a 
born  ruler  of  men.  He  proved  himself  at  once  the  subtlest  of  diplo- 
matists and  the  grandest  of  demagogues.  He  was  equally  at  home  in 
tracking  the  subtle  intricacies  of  royalist  intrigues,  or  in  kindling 
popular  passion  with  words  of  fire.  Though  past  middle  life  when 
his  work  really  began,  for  he  was  born  in  1584,  four  years  before  the 
coming  of  the  Armada,  he  displayed  from  the  first  meeting  of  the 
Long  Parliament  the  qualities  of  a  great  administrator,  an  immense 
faculty  for  labour,  a  genius  for  organization,  patience,  tact,  a  power  of 
inspiring  confidence  in  all  whom  he  touched,  calmness  and  moderation 
under  good  fortune  or  ill,  an  immovable  courage,  an  iron  will.  Nc 
English  ruler  has  ever  shown  greater  nobleness  of  natural  temper  or  3 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


537 


wider  capacity  for  government  than  the  Somersetshire  squire  whom 
his  enemies,  made  clear-sighted  by  their  hate,  greeted  truly  enough 
as  "  King  Pym." 

His  ride  over  England  with  Hampden  on  the  eve  of  the  elections 
had  been  hardly  needed,  for  the  summons  of  a  Parhament  at  once 
woke  the  kingdom  to  a  fresh  life.      The  Puritan  emigration  to  New 
England  was  suddenly  and  utterly  suspended  ;  "  the  change,"  said 
Winthrop,  "  made  all  men  to  stay  in  England  in  expectation  of  a  new 
world."     The  public  discontent  spoke  from  every  Puritan  pulpit,  and 
expressed  itself  in  a  sudden  burst  of  pamphlets,  the  first-fruits  of  the 
thirty  thousand  which  were  issued  in  the  next  twenty  years,  and  which 
turned  England  at  large  into  a  school  of  political  discussion.     The 
resolute  looks  of  the  members  as  they  gathered  at  Westminster  con- 
trasted with  the  hesitating  words  of  the  King,  and  each  brought  from 
borough  or  county  a  petition  of  grievances.      Fresh  petitions  were 
brought  every  day  by  bands  of  citizens  or  farmers.     Forty  committees 
were  appointed  to  examine  and  report  on  them,  and  their  reports 
formed  the  grounds  on  which  the  Commons  acted.     Prynne  and  his 
fellow  "martyrs,"  recalled  from  their  prisons,  entered  London  in  triumph 
amidst  the  shouts  of  a  great  multitude  who  strewed  laurel  in  their  path. 
The  Commons  dealt  roughly  with  the  agents  of  the  royal  system.     In 
every  county  a  list  of  "delinquents,"  or  officers  who  had  carried  out 
the  plans  ol  the  government,  was  ordered  to  be  prepared  and  laid  before 
the  House.     But  their  first  blow  was  struck  at  the  leading  ministers  of 
the  King.      Even  Laud  was  not  the  centre  of  so  great  and  universal  a 
hatred  as  the  Earl  of  Strafford.      Strafford's  guilt  was  more  than  the 
guilt  of  a  servile  instrument  of  tyranny,  it  was  the  guilt  of  "  that  grand 
apostate  to  the  Commonwealth  who,"  in   the  terrible  words  which 
closed  Lord  Digby's  invective,  "  must  not  expect  to  be  pardoned  in 
thrs  world  till  he  be  despatched  to  the  other."      He  was  conscious  of 
his  danger,  but  Charles  forced  him  to  attend  the  Court ;  and  with 
characteristic  boldness  he  resolved  to  anticipate  attack  by  accusing 
the  Parliamentary  leaders  of  a  treasonable  correspondence  with  the 
Scots.     He  was  just  laying  his  scheme  before  Charles  when  the  news 
reached  him  that  Pym  was  at  the  bar  of  the  Lords  with  his  impeach- 
ment for  high  treason.      "With  speed,"  writes  an  eye-witness,  "he 
comes  to  the  House :  he  calls  rudely  at  the  door,"  and,  "  with  a  proud 
glooming  look,  makes  towards  his  place  at  the  board-head.      But  at 
once  many  bid  him  void  the  House,  so  he  is  forced  in  confusion  to  go 
to  the  door  till  he  was  called."     He  was  only  recalled  to  hear  his  com- 
mittal to  the  Tower.      He  was  still  resolute  to  retort  the  charge  of 
treason  on  his  foes,  and  "  offered  to  speak,  but  was  commanded  to  be 
gone  without  a  word."      The  keeper  of  the  Black  Rod  demanded  his 
sword  as  he  took  him  in  charge.      "  This  done,  he  makes  through  a 
number  of  people  towards  his  coach,  no  man  capping  to  him,  before 


538 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
Long  Par- 
liament 

1640 

TO 

Fall  of  the 
Ministers 
Dec.  1640 


164] 


Tbe 
Death  of 
Strafford 


Mar.  22 
The  Trial 


whom  that  morning  the  greatest  of  all  England  would  have  stood 
uncovered."  The  blow  was  quickly  followed  up.  Windebank,  the 
Secretary  of  State,  was  charged  with  corrupt  favouring  of  recusants, 
and  escaped  to  France  ;  Finch,  the  Lord  Keeper,  was  impeached,  and 
fled  in  terror  over-sea.  Laud  himself  was  thrown  into  prison.  The 
shadow  of  what  was  to  come  falls  across  the  pages  of  his  diary,  and 
softens  the  hard  temper  of  the  man  into  a  strange  tenderness.  "  I 
stayed  at  Lambeth  till  the  evening,"  writes  the  Archbishop,  "  to  avoid 
the  gaze  of  the  people.  I  went  to  evening  prayer  in  my  chapel.  The 
Psalms  of  the  day  and  chapter  fifty  of  Isaiah  gave  me  great  comfort 
God  make  me  worthy  of  it,  and  fit  to  receive  it.  As  I  went  to  my 
barge,  hundreds  of  my  poor  neighbours  stood  there  and  prayed  for  my 
safety  and  return  to  my  house.  For  which  1  bless  God  and  them." 
Charles  was  forced  to  look  helplessly  on  at  the  wreck  of  the  royal 
system,  for  the  Scotch  army  was  still  encamped  in  the  north  ;  and  the 
Parliament,  which  saw  in  the  presence  of  the  Scots  a  security  against 
its  own  dissolution,  was  in  no  hurry  to  vote  the  money  necessary  for 
their  withdrawal.  "We  cannot  do  without  them,"  Strode  honestly 
confessed,  "  the  Philistines  are  still  too  strong  for  us."  One  by  one  the 
lawless  acts  of  Charles's  government  were  undone.  Ship-money  was 
declared  illegal,  the  judgement  in  Hampden's  case  annulled,  and  one  of 
the  judges  committed  to  prison.  A  statute  declaring  "  the  ancient  right 
of  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom  that  no  subsidy,  custom,  impost,  or 
any  charge  whatsoever,  ought  or  may  be  laid  or  imposed  upon  any 
merchandize  exported  or  imported  by  subjects,  denizens,  or  aliens, 
without  common  consent  in  Parliament,"  put  an  end  for  ever  to  all 
pretensions  to  a  right  of  arbitrary  taxation  on  the  part  of  the  Crown. 
A  Triennial  Bill  enforced  the  assembly  of  the  Houses  every  three  years, 
and  bound  the  returning  officers  to  proceed  to  election  if  the  Royal 
writ  failed  to  summon  them.  A  Committee  of  Religion  had  been 
appointed  to  consider  the  question  of  Church  Reform,  and  on  its 
report  the  Commons  passed  a  bill  for  the  removal  of  bishops  from  the 
House  of  Lords. 

The  King  made  no  sign  of  opposition.  He  was  known  to  be 
resolute  against  the  abolition  of  Episcopacy ;  but  he  announced 
no  purpose  of  resisting  the  expulsion  of  the  bishops  from  the 
Peers.  Strafford's  life  he  was  determined  to  save  ;  but  he  threw 
no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  impeachment.  The  trial  of  the  Earl 
began  in  Westminster  Hall,  and  the  whole  of  the  House  of  Commons 
appeared  to  support  it.  The  passion  which  the  cause  excited  was  seen 
in  the  loud  cries  of  sympathy  or  hatred  which  burst  from  the  crowded 
benches  on  either  side.  For  fifteen  days  Strafford  struggled  with  a 
remarkable  courage  and  ingenuity  against  the  list  of  charges,  and 
melted  his  audience  to  tears  by  the  pathos  of  his  defence.  But  the 
trial  was  suddenly  interrupted.     Though  tyranny  ind  misgovemment 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


539 


had  been  conclusively  proved  against  him,  the  technical  proof  of 
treason  was  weak.  "  The  law  of  England,"  to  use  Hallam's  words, 
"  is  silent  as  to  conspiracies  against  itself,"  and  treason  by  the  Statute 
of  Edward  the  Third  was  restricted  to  a  levying  of  war  against  the 
King  or  a  compassing  of  his  death.  The  Commons  endeavoured  to 
strengthen  their  case  by  bringing  forward  the  notes  of  a  meeting  of 
a  Committee  of  the  Commons  in  which  Strafford  had  urged  the  use  of 
his  Irish  troops  "to  reduce  this  kingdom  ;  "  but  the  Lords  would  only 
admit  the  evidence  on  condition  of  wholly  reopening  the  case.  Pym 
and  Hampden  remained  convinced  of  the  sufficiency  of  the  impeach- 
ment ;  but  the  Commons  broke  loose  from  their  control,  and,  guided 
by  St.  John  and  Henry  Marten,  resolved  to  abandon  these  judicial 
proceedings,  and  fall  back  on  the  resource  of  a  Bill  of  Attainder. 
Their  course  has  been  bitterly  censured  by  some  whose  opinion  in 
such  a  matter  is  entitled  to  respect.  But  the  crime  of  Strafford  was 
none  the  less  a  crime  that  it  did  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  the 
Statute  of  Treasons.  It  is  impossible  indeed  to  provide  for  some 
of  the  greatest  dangers  which  can  happen  to  national  freedom  by  any 
formal  statute.  Even  now  a  minister  might  avail  himself  of  the 
temper  of  a  Parliament  elected  in  some  moment  of  popular  panic, 
and,  though  the  nation  returned  to  its  senses,  might  simply  by  refusing 
to  appeal  to  the  country  govern  in  defiance  of  its  will.  Such  a  course 
would  be  technically  legal,  but  such  a  minister  would  be  none  the  less 
a  criminal.  Strafford's  course,  whether  it  fell  within  the  Statute  of 
Treasons  or  no,  was  from  beginning  to  end  an  attack  on  the  freedom 
of  the  whole  nation.  In  the  last  resort  a  nation  retains  the  right 
of  self-defence,  and  the  Bill  of  Attainder  is  the  assertion  of  such  a 
right  for  the  punishment  of  a  public  enemy  who  falls  within  the  scope 
of  no  written  law.  To  save  Strafford  and  Episcopacy  Charles  seemed 
to  assent  to  a  proposal  for  entrusting  the  offices  of  State  to  the  leaders 
of  the  Parliament,  with  the  Earl  of  Bedford  as  Lord  Treasurer ;  the 
only  conditions  he  made  were  that  Episcopacy  should  not  be  abolished 
nor  Strafford  executed.  Bat  the  negotiations  were  interrupted  by 
Bedford's  death,  and  by  the  discovery  that  Charles  had  been  listening 
all  the  while  to  counsellors  who  proposed  to  bring  about  his  end  by 
stirring  the  army  to  march  on  London,  seize  the  Tower,  free  Strafford, 
and  dehver  the  King  from  his  thraldom  to  Parliament.  The  discovery 
of  the  Army  Plot  sealed  Strafford's  fate.  The  Londoners  were  roused 
to  frenzy,  and  as  the  Peers  gathered  at  Westminster  crowds  sur- 
rounded the  House  with  cries  of  "Justice."  On  May  8  the  Lords 
passed  the  Bill  of  Attainder.  The  Earl's  one  hope  was  in  the  King, 
but  two  days  later  the  royal  assent  was  given,  and  he  passed  to  his 
doom.  Strafford  died  as  he  had  lived.  His  friends  warned  him 
of  the  vast  multitude  gathered  before  the  Tower  to  witness  his  fall. 
"  I   know  how  to  look  death  in  the  face,  and    the  people  too,"  he 


S40 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
Long  Par- 
liament 

164.0 

TO 

1644 


The 
Grand 
Remon- 
strance 


The  Panic 


AbolUi«H  of 
the  Star 
Chamber 


CharUs  in 
Scotland 


answered  proudly.  "  I  thank  God  I  am  no  more  afraid  of  death,  but 
as  cheerfully  put  off  my  doublet  at  this  time  as  ever  I  did  when  I  went 
to  bed."  As  the  axe  fell,  the  silence  of  the  great  multitude  was  broken 
by  a  universal  shout  of  joy.  The  streets  blazed  with  bonfires.  The 
bells  clashed  out  from  every  steeple.  "  Many,"  says  an  observer, "  that 
came  to  town  to  see  the  execution  rode  in  triumph  back,  waving  their 
hats,  and  with  all  expressions  of  joy  through  every  town  they  went, 
crying,  *  His  head  is  off!     His  head  is  off ! '  " 

The  failure  of  the  attempt  to  establish  a  Parliamentary  ministry,  the 
discovery  of  the  Army  Plot,  the  execution  of  Strafford,  were  the  turning 
points  in  the  history  of  the  Long  Parliament.  Till  May  there  was 
still  hope  for  an  accommodation  between  the  Commons  and  the  Crown 
by  which  the  freedom  that  had  been  won  might  have  been  taken  as 
the  base  of  a  new  system  of  government.  But  from  that  hour  little 
hope  of  such  an  agreement  remained.  On  the  one  hand,  the  air,  since 
the  army  conspiracy,  was  full  of  rumours  and  panic  ;  the  creak  of  a 
few  boards  revived  the  memory  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  and  the 
members  rushed  out  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  the  full  belief  that 
it  was  undermined.  On  the  other  hand,  Charles  regarded  his  consent 
to  the  new  measures  as  having  been  extorted  by  force,  and  to  be 
retracted  at  the  first  opportunity.  Both  Houses,  in  their  terror,  swore 
to  defend  the  Protestant  religion  and  the  public  liberties,  an  oath 
which  was  subsequently  exacted  from  every  one  engaged  in  civil 
employment,  and  voluntarily  taken  by  the  great  mass  of  the  people. 
The  same  terror  of  a  counter-revolution  induced  Hyde  and  the 
"  moderate  men  "  in  the  Commons  to  agree  to  a  bill  providing  that 
the  present  Parliament  should  not  be  dissolved  but  by  its  own  consent. 
Of  all  the  demands  of  the  Parliament  this  was  the  first  that  could  be 
called  distinctly  revolutionary.  To  consent  to  it  was  to  establish  a 
power  permanently  co-ordinate  with  the  Crown.  Charles  signed  the 
bill  without  protest,  but  he  was  already  planning  the  means  of  breaking 
the  Parliament.  Hitherto,  the  Scotch  army  had  held  him  down,  but 
its  payment  and  withdrawal  could  no  longer  be  delayed,  and  a  pacifi- 
cation was  arranged  between  the  two  countries.  The  Houses  hastened 
to  complete  their  task  of  reform.  The  irregular  jurisdictions  of  the 
Council  of  the  North  and  the  Court  of  the  Marches  of  Wales  had  been 
swept  away  ;  and  the  'ivil  and  criminal  jurisdiction  of  the  Star  Chamber 
and  the  Court  of  High  Commission,  the  last  of  the  extraordinary' courts 
which  had  been  the  support  of  the  Tudor  monarchy,  were  now  sum- 
marily abolished.  The  work  was  pushed  hastily  on,  for  haste  was 
needed.  The  two  armies  had  been  disbanded ;  and  the  Scots  were  no 
sooner  on  their  way  homeward  than  the  King  resolved  to  bring  them 
back.  In  spite  of  prayers  from  the  Parliament  he  left  London  for 
Edinburgh,  yielded  to  every  demand  of  the  Assembly  and  the  Scotch 
Estates,  attended  the  Presbyterian  worship,  lavished  titles  and  favours 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


541 


on  the  Earl  of  Argyle  and  the  patriot  leaders,  and  gained  for  a  few 
months  a  popularity  which  spread  dismay  in  the  English  Parliament. 
Their  dread  of  his  designs  was  increased  when  he  was  found  to  have 
been  intriguing  all  the  while  with  the  Earl  of  Montrose — who  had 
seceded  from  the  patriot  party  before  his  coming,  and  been  rewarded 
for  his  secession  with  imprisonment  in  the  castle  of  Edinburgh — and 
when  Hamilton  and  Argyle  withdrew  suddenly  from  the  capital,  and 
charged  the  King  with  a  treacherous  plot  to  seize  and  carry  them  out 
of  the  realm.     The  fright  was  fanned  to  frenzy  by  news  which  came 
suddenly  from  Ireland,  where  the  fall  of  Strafford  had  put  an  end  to 
all  semblance  of  rule.     The  disbanded  soldiers  of  the  army  he  had 
raised  spread  over  the  country,  and  stirred  the  smouldering  disaffec- 
tion into  a  flame.     A  conspiracy,  organised  with  wonderful  power  and 
secresy,  burst  forth  in  Ulster,  where  the  confiscation  of  the  Settlement 
had  never  been  forgiven,  and  spread  like  wildfire  over  the  centre  and 
west  of  the  island.     Dublin  was  saved  by  a  mere  chance  ;  but  in  the 
open,  country  the  work  of  murder  went  on  unchecked.     Thousands  of 
English  people  perished  in  a  few   days,  and  rumour   doubled   and 
trebled  the  number.     Tales  of  horror  and  outrage,  such  as  maddened 
our  own  England  when  they  reached  us  from  Cawnpore,  came  day 
after  day  over  the  Irish  Channel.    Sworn  depositions  told  how  husbands 
were  cut  to  pieces  in  presence  of  their  wives,  their  children's  brains 
dashed  out  before  their  faces,  their  daughters  brutally  violated  and 
driven  out  naked  to  perish  frozen  in  the  woods.     "  Some,"  says  May, 
"  were  burned  on  set  purpose,  others  drowned  for  sport  or  pastime, 
and  if  they  swam  kept  from  landing  with  poles,  or  shot,  or  murdered 
in  the  water ;  many  were  buried  quick,  and  some  set  into  the  earth 
breast-high  and  there  left  to  famish."     Much  of  all  this  was  the  wild 
exaggeration  of  panic.     But  the  revolt  was  unlike  any  earlier  rising  in 
its  religious  character.     It  was  no  longer  a  struggle,  as  of  old,  of  Celt 
against  Saxon,   but   of  Catholic   against   Protestant.      The   Papists 
within  the  Pale  joined  hands  in  it  with  the  wild  kernes  outside  the 
Pale.    The  rebels  called  themselves  "  Confederate  Catholics,"  resolved 
to  defend  "  the  public  and  free  exercise  of  the  true  and  Catholic  Roman 
religion."     The  panic  waxed  greater  when  it   was  found  that  they 
claimed  to  be  acting  by  the  King's  commission,  and  in  aid  of  his 
authority.     They  professed  to  stand  by  Charles  and  his  heirs  again  .t 
all  that  should  "  directly  and  indirectly  endeavour  to  suppress  their 
royal  prerogatives."     They  showed  a  Commission,  purporting  to  have 
been  issued  by  royal  command  at  Edinburgh,  and  styled  themselves 
"  the  King's  army."     The  Commission  was  a  forgery,  but  belief  in  it 
was  quickened  by  the  want  of  all  sympathy  with  the  national  honour 
which  Charles  displayed.     To  him  the  revolt  seemed  a  useful  check 
on  his  opponents.     "  I  hope,"  he  wrote  coolly,  when  the  news  reached 
him,  "  this  ill  news  of  Ireland  may  hinder  some  of  these  follies  in 


542 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 
Long  Par- 
liament 

1640 

TO 

1644 


The  new 
Royalists 


Tht  Grand 

Rtmoti- 

Urante 

Nov.    164 1 


England."  Above  all,  it  would  necessitate  the  raising  of  an  army,  and 
with  an  army  at  his  command  he  would  again  be  the  master  of  the 
Parliament.  The  Parliament,  on  the  other  hand,  saw  in  the  Irish 
revolt  the  disclosure  of  a  vast  scheme  for  a  counter  revolution,  of 
which  the  withdrawal  of  the  Scotch  army,  the  reconciliation  of  Scot- 
land, the  intrigues  at  Edinburgh,  were  all  parts  Its  terror  was 
quickened  into  panic  by  the  exultation  of  the  royalists  at  the  King's 
return,  and  by  the  appearance  of  a  royalist  party  in  the  Parliament 
itself  The  new  party  had  been  silently  organized  by  Hyde,  the  future 
Lord  Clarendon.  With  him  stood  Lord  Falkland,  a  man  learned  and 
accomplished,  the  centre  of  a  circle  which  embraced  the  most  liberal 
thinkers  of  his  day,  a  keen  reasoner  and  able  speaker,  whose  intense 
desire  for  liberty  of  religious  thought,  which  he  now  saw  threatened 
by  the  dogmatism  of  the  time,  estranged  him  from  Parliament,  while 
his  dread  of  a  conflict  with  the  Crown,  his  passionate  longing  for 
peace,  his  sympathy  for  the  fallen,  led  him  to  struggle  for  a  King 
whom  he  distrusted,  and  to  die  in  a  cause  that  was  not  his  own. 
Behind  Falkland  and  Hyde  soon  gathered  a  strong  force  of  sup- 
porters ;  chivalrous  soldiers  like  Sir  Edmund  Verney  ("  I  have  eaten 
the  King's  bread  and  served  him  now  thirty  years,  and  I  will  not  do 
so  base  a  thing  as  to  desert  him  "),  as  well  as  men  frightened  by  the 
rapid  march  of  change  or  by  the  dangers  which  threatened  Episcopacy 
and  the  Church,  the  partizans  of  the  Court,  and  the  time-servers  who 
looked  forward  to  a  new  triumph  of  the  Crown.  With  a  broken 
Parliament,  and  perils  gathering  without,  Pym  resolved  to  appeal  for 
aid  to  the  nation  itself.  The  Grand  Remonstrance  which  he  laid 
before  the  House  was  a  detailed  narrative  of  the  work  which  the 
Parliament  had  done,  the  difficulties  it  had  surmounted,  and  the  new 
dangers  which  lay  in  its  path.  The  Parliament  had  been  charged 
with  a  design  to  abolish  Episcopacy,  it  declared  its  purpose  to  be 
simply  that  of  reducing  the  power  of  bishops.  Politically  it  repudiated 
the  taunt  of  revolutionary  aims.  It  demanded  only  the  observance  of 
the  existing  laws  against  recusancy,  securities  for  the  due  administra- 
tion  of  justice,  and  the  employment  of  ministers  who  possessed  the 
confidence  of  Parliament.  The  new  King's  party  fought  fiercely, 
debate  followed  debate,  the  sittings  were  prolonged  till  lights  had  to 
be  brought  in  ;  and  it  was  only  at  midnight,  and  by  a  majority  of 
eleven,  that  the  Remonstrance  was  finally  adopted.  On  an  attempt  of 
the  minority  to  offer  a  formal  protest  against  a  subsequent  vote  for  its 
publication  the  slumbering  passion  broke  out  into  a  flame.  "Some 
waved  their  hats  over  their  heads,  and  others  took  their  swords  in 
their  scabbards  out  of  their  belts,  and  held  them  by  the  pommels  in 
their  hands,  setting  the  lower  part  on  the  ground."  Only  Hampden's 
coolness  and  tact  averted  a  conflict.  The  Remonstrance  was  felt  on 
both  sides  to  be  a  crisis  in  the  struggle.     "  Had  it  been  rejected,"  said 


VIII.I 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


543 


Cromwell,  as  he  left  the  House,  "  I  would  have  sold  to-morrow  all  I 
possess,  and  left  England  for  ever."  Listened  to  sullenly  by  the  King, 
it  kindled  afresh  the  spirit  of  the  country.  London  swore  to  live  and 
die  with  the  Parliament ;  associations  were  formed  in  every  county  for 
the  defence  of  the  Houses  ;  and  when  the  guard  which  the  Commons 
had  asked  for  in  the  panic  of  the  Army  Plot  was  withdrawn  by  the 
King,  the  populace  crowded  down  to  Westminster  to  take  its  place. 

The  question  which  had  above  all  broken  the  unity  of  the  Parlia- 
ment had  been  the  question  of  the  Church.  All  were  agreed  on  the 
necessity  of  reform,  and  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  Parliament  had  been 
to  appoint  a  Committee  of  Rehgion  to  consider  the  question.  The  bulk 
of  the  Commons  as  of  the  Lords  were  at  first  against  any  radical 
changes  in  the  constitution  or  doctrines  of  the  Church.  But  within  as 
without  the  House  the  general  opinion  was  in  favour  of  a  reduction  of 
the  power  and  wealth  of  the  prelates,  as  well  as  of  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  Church  Courts.  Even  among  the  bishops  themselves,  the  more 
prominent  saw  the  need  for  consenting  to  the  abolition  of  Chapters 
and  Bishops'  Courts,  as  well  as  to  the  election  of  a  council  of  ministers 
in  each  diocese,  which  had  been  suggested  by  Archbishop  Usher  as  a 
check  on  episcopal  autocracy.  A  scheme  to  this  effect  was  drawn  up 
by  Bishop  Williams  of  Lincoln  ;  but  it  was  far  from  meeting  the 
wishes  of  the  general  body  of  the  Commons.  Pym  and  Lord  Falk- 
land demanded,  in  addition  to  these  changes,  a  severance  of  the  clergy 
from  all  secular  or  state  offices,  and  an  expulsion  of  the  bishops  from 
the  House  of  Lords.  Such  a  measure  seemed  needed  to  restore  the 
independence  of  the  Peers ;  for  the  number  and  servility  of  the  bishops 
were  commonly  strong  enough  to  prevent  any  opposition  to  the  Crown. 
There  was,  however,  a  growing  party  which  pressed  for  the  abolition 
of  Episcopacy  altogether.  The  doctrines  of  Cartwright  had  risen 
into  popularity  under  the  persecution  of  Laud,  and  Presbyterianism 
was  now  a  formidable  force  among  the  middle  classes.  Its  chief 
strength  lay  in  the  eastern  counties  and  in  London,  where  a  few 
ministers  such  as  Calamy  and  Marshall  had  formed  a  committee 
for  its  diffusion  ;  while  in  Parliament  it  was  represented  by  Lord 
Mandeville  and  some  others.  In  the  Commons  Sir  Harry  Vane 
represented  a  more  extreme  party  of  reformers,  the  Independents  of 
the  future,  whose  sentiments  were  little  less  hostile  to  Presbyterianism 
than  to  Episcopacy,  but  who  acted  with  the  Presbyterians  for  the 
present,  and  formed  a  part  of  what  became  known  as  the  "  root  and 
branch  party,"  from  its  demand  for  the  extirpation  of  prelacy.  The 
attitude  of  Scotland  in  the  great  struggle  against  tyranny,  and  the 
political  advantages  of  a  religious  union  between  the  two  kingdoms, 
as  well  as  the  desire  to  knit  the  English  Church  more  closely  to  the 
general  body  of  Protestantism,  gave  force  to  the  Presbyterian  party. 
Milton,  who  after  the  composition  of  his  "  Lycidas"  had  spent  a  year 


544 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


Skc.  VI. 

The 
LovG  Par- 
liament 

164.0 

TO 

1644 


Cavaliera 

and 

Roundheads 


fan.  4 
1642 


in  foreign  travel,  returned  to  throw  himself  on  this  ground  into  the 
theological  strife.  He  held  it  "an  unjust  thing  that  the  English  should 
differ  from  all  Churches  as  many  as  be  reformed."  In  spite  of  this 
pressure,  however,  and  of  a  Presbyterian  petition  from  London  with 
fifteen  thousand  signatures  to  the  same  purport,  the  Committee  of 
Religion  reported  in  favour  of  the  moderate  reforms  proposed  by 
Falkland  and  Pym  ;  and  a  bill  for  the  removal  of  bishops  from  the 
House  of  Peers  passed  the  Commons  almost  unanimously.  Rejected 
by  the  Lords  on  the  eve  of  the  King's  journey  to  Scotland,  it  was 
again  introduced  on  his  return.  Pym  and  hjs  colleagues,  anxious  to 
close  the  disunion  in  their  ranks,  sought  to  end  the  pressure  of  the 
Presbyterian  zealots,  and  the  dread  of  the  Church  party,  by  taking  their 
stand  on  the  compromise  suggested  by  the  Committee  of  Religion  in 
the  spring.  But  in  spite  of  violent  remonstrances  from  the  Commons 
the  bill  still  hung  fire  among  the  Peers.  The  delay  roused  the  excited 
crowd  of  Londoners  who  gathered  round  Whitehall  ;  the  bishops' 
carriages  were  stopped,  and  the  prelates  themselves  rabbled  on  their 
way  to  the  House.  The  angry  pride  of  Williams  induced  ten  of  his 
fellow  bishops  to  declare  themselves  prevented  from  attendance  in 
Parliament,  and  to  protest  against  all  acts  done  in  their  absence  as 
null  and  void.  The  protest  was  met  at  once  on  the  part  of  the  Peers 
by  the  committal  of  the  prelates  who  had  signed  it  to  the  Tower.  But 
the  contest  gave  a  powerful  aid  to  the  projects  of  the  King,  The 
courtiers  declared  openly  that  the  rabbling  of  the  bishops  proved  that 
there  was  "  no  free  Parliament,"  and  strove  to  bring  about  fresh  out- 
rages by  gathering  troops  of  officers  and  soldiers  of  fortune,  who  were 
seeking  for  employment  in  the  Irish  war,  and  pitting  them  against  the 
crowds  at  Whitehall.  The  brawls  of  the  two  parties,  who  gave  each 
other  the  nicknames  of  "  Roundheads  "  and  "  Cavaliers,"  created  fresh 
alarm  in  the  Parliament ;  but  Charles  persisted  in  refusing  it  a  guard. 
"  On  the  honour  of  a  King,"  he  engaged  to  defend  them  from  violence 
as  completely  as  his  own  children,  but  the  answer  had  hardly  been  given 
when  his  Attorney  appeared  at  the  bar  of  the  Lords,  and  accused 
Hampden,  Pym,  Hollis,  Strode,  and  Haselrig  of  high  treason  in  their 
correspondence  with  the  Scots.  A  herald-at-arms  appeared  at  the  bar 
of  the  Commons,  and  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  five  members. 
If  Charles  believed  himself  to  be  within  legal  forms,  the  Commons 
saw  a  mere  act  of  arbitrary  violence  in  a  charge  which  proceeded 
personally  from  the  King,  which  set  aside  the  most  cherished  privi- 
leges of  Parliament,  and  summoned  the  accused  before  a  tribunal 
which  had  no  pretence  to  a  jurisdiction  over  them.  The  Commons 
simply  promised  to  take  the  demand  into  consideration,  and  again 
requested  a  guard.  "  I  will  reply  to-morrow,"  said  the  King.  On  the 
morrow  he  summoned  the  gentlemen  who  clustered  round  WhitehaU 
to  follow  him,  and,  embracing  the  Queen,  promised  her  that  in  an  hour 


virr] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


545 


he  would  return  master  of  his  kingdom.  A  mob  of  Cavaliers  joined 
him  as  he  left  the  palace,  and  remained  in  Westminster  Hall  as  Charles, 
accompanied  by  his  nephew,  the  Elector-Palatine,  entered  the  House  of 
Commons.  "  Mr.  Speaker,"  he  said,  "  I  must  for  a  time  borrow  your 
chair  ! "  He  paused  with  a  sudden  confusion  as  his  eye  fell  on  the  vacant 
spot  where  Pym  commonly  sate:  for  at  the  news  of  his  approach  the 
House  had  ordered  the  five  members  to  withdraw.  "  Gentlemen,"  he 
began  in  slow  broken  sentences,  "  I  am  sorry  for  this  occasion  of  coming 
unto  you.  Yesterday  I  sent  a  Sergeant-at-arms  upon  a  very  important 
occasion,  to  apprehend  some  that  by  my  command  were  accused  of 
high  treason,  whereunto  I  did  expect  obedience,  and  not  a  message." 
Treason,  he  went  on,  had  no  privilege,  "  and  therefore  I  am  come  to 
know  if  any  of  these  persons  that  were  accused  are  here."  There  was 
a  dead  silence,  only  broken  by  his  reiterated  "  I  must  have  them  where 
soever  I  find  them."  He  again  paused,  but  the  stillness  was  unbroken. 
Then  he  called  out,  "  Is  Mr.  Pym  here .''"  There  was  no  answer  ;  and 
Charles,  turning  to  the  Speaker,  asked  him  whether  the  five  members 
were  there.  Lenthall  fell  on  his  knees  ;  "  I  have  neither  eyes  to  see," 
he  replied,  "  nor  tongue  to  speak  in  this  place,  but  as  this  House  is 
pleased  to  direct  me."  "  Well,  well,"  Charles  angrily  retorted,  "  'tis  no 
matter.  I  think  my  eyes  are  as  good  as  another's ! "  There  was 
another  long  pause,  while  he  looked  carefully  over  the  ranks  of 
members.  "  I  see,"  he  said  at  last,  "  all  the  birds  are  flown.  I  do 
expect  you  will  send  them  to  me  as  soon  as  they  return  hither."  If 
they  did  not,  he  added,  he  would  seek  them  himself;  and  with  a 
closing  protest  that  he  never  intended  any  force,  "  he  went  out  of  the 
House,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  in  a  more  discontented  and  angpry 
passion  than  he  came  in." 

Nothing  but  the  absence  of  the  five  members,  and  the  calm  dignity 
of  the  Commons,  had  prevented  the  King's  outrage  from  ending  in 
bloodshed.  "  It  was  believed,"  says  Whitelock,  who  was  present  at 
the  scene,  "  that  if  the  King  had  found  them  there,  and  called  in  his 
guards  to  have  seized  them,  the  members  of  the  House  would  have 
endeavoured  the  defence  of  them,  which  might  have  proved  a  very 
unhappy  and  sad  business."  Five  hundred  gentlemen  of  the  best 
blood  in  England  would  hardly  have  stood  tamely  by  while  the  bravoes 
of  Whitehall  laid  hands  on  their  leaders  in  the  midst  of  the  Parlia- 
ment. But  Charles  was  blind  to  the  danger  of  his  course.  The  five 
members  had  taken  refuge  in  the  city,  and  it  was  there  that  on  the 
next  day  the  Kinghimself  demanded  their  surrender  from  the  aldermen 
at  Guildhall.  Cries  of  "  Privilege "  rang  round  him  as  he  returned 
through  the  streets :  the  writs  issued  for  the  arrest  of  the  five  were 
disregarded  by  the  Sheriffs,  and  a  proclamation  issued  four  days 
later,  declaring  them  traitors,  passed  without  notice.  Terror  drove  the 
Cavaliers  from  Whitehall,  and  Charles  stood  absolutely  alone  ;  for  the 

T 


5146 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


outrage  had  severed  him  for  the  moment  from  his  new  friends  in  the 
Parliament,  and  from  the  ministers,  Falkland  and  Colepepper,  whom 
he  had  chosen  among  them.  But  lonely  as  he  was,  Charles  had 
resolved  on  war.  The  Earl  of  Newcastle  was  despatched  to  muster 
a  royal  force  in  the  north  ;  and  on  the  tenth  of  January  news  that  the 
five  members  were  about  to  return  in  triumph  to  Westminster  drove 
Charles  from  Whitehall.  He  retired  to  Hampton  Court  and  to 
Windsor,  while  the  Trained  Bands  of  London  and  Southwark  on 
foot,  and  the  London  watermen  on  the  river,  all  sworn  "  to  guard  the 
Parliament,  the  Kingdom,  and  the  King,"  escorted  Pym  and  his 
fellow-members  along  the  Thames  to  the  House  of  Commons.  Both 
sides  prepared  for  the  coming  struggle.  The  Queen  sailed  from  Dover 
with  the  Crown  jewels  to  buy  munitions  of  war.  The  Cavaliers  again 
gathered  round  the  King,  and  the  royalist  press  flooded  the  country 
with  State  papers  drawn  up  by  Hyde.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Com- 
mons resolved  by  vote  to  secure  the  great  arsenals  of  the  kingdom, 
Hull,  Portsmouth  and  the  Tower  ;  while  mounted  processions  of  free- 
holders from  Buckinghamshire  and  Kent  traversed  London  on  their 
way  to  St.  Stephen's,  vowing  to  live  and  die  with  the  Parliament.  The 
Lords  were  scared  out  of  their  policy  of  obstruction  by  Pym's  bold 
announcement  of  the  new  position  taken  by  the  House  of  Commons. 
"The  Commons,"  said  their  leader,  "will  be  glad  to  have  your  con- 
currence and  help  in  saving  the  kingdom  ;  but  if  they  fail  of  it,  it 
should  not  discourage  them  in  doing  their  duty.  And  whether  the 
kingdom  be  lost  or  saved,  they  shall  be  Borry  that  the  story  of  this 
present  Parliament  should  tell  posterity  that  in  so  great  a  danger  and 
extremity  the  House  of  Commons  should  be  enforced  to  save  the 
kingdom  alone."  The  effect  of  Pym's  words  was  seen  in  the  passing 
of  the  bill  for  excluding  bishops  from  the  House  of  Lords.  The  great 
point,  however,  was  to  secure  armed  support  from  the  nation  at  large, 
and  here  both  sides  were  in  a  difficulty.  Previous  to  the  innovations 
introduced  by  the  Tudors,  and  which  had  been  already  questioned  by 
the  Commons  in  a  debate  on  pressing  soldiers,  the  King  in  himself 
had  no  power  of  calling  on  his  subjects  generally  to  bear  arms, 
save  for  purposes  of  restoring  order  or  meeting  foreign  invasion. 
On  the  other  hand,  no  one  contended  that  such  a  power  had  ever 
been  exercised  by  the  two  Houses  without  the  King ;  and  Charles 
steadily  refused  to  consent  to  a  Militia  bill,  in  which  the  command 
of  the  national  force  was  given  in  every  county  to  men  devoted 
to  the  Parliamentary  cause.  Both  parties  therefore  broke  through 
constitutional  precedent,  the  Parliament  in  appointing  the  Lord 
Lieutenants  who  commanded  the  Militia  by  ordinance  of  the  two 
Houses,  Charles  in  levying  forces  by  royal  commissions  of  array.  The 
King's  great  difficulty  lay  in  procuring  arms,  and  on  the  twenty-third 
of  April  he  suddenly  appeared  before  Hull,  the  magazine  of  the  north, 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


547 


and  demanded  admission.  The  new  governor,  Sir  John  Hotham,  fell 
on  his  knees,  but  refused  to  open  the  gates  :  and  the  avowal  of  his  act 
by  the  Parliament  was  followed  by  the  withdrawal  of  the  royalist  party 
among  its  members  from  their  seats  at  Westminster.  Falkland, 
Colepepper  and  Hyde,  with  thirty-two  peers  and  sixty  members  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  joined  Charles  at  York  ;  and  Lyttelton,  the  Lord 
Keeper,  followed  with  the  Great  Seal.  They  aimed  at  putting  a  check 
on  the  King's  projects  of  war,  and  their  efforts  were  backed  by  the 
general  opposition  of  the  country.  A  great  meeting  of  the  Yorkshire 
freeholders  which  he  convened  on  Heyworth  Moor  ended  in  a  petition 
praying  him  to  be  reconciled  to  the  Parliament,  and  in  spite  of  gifts 
of  plate  from  the  Universities  and  nobles  of  his  party,  arms  and 
money  were  still  wanting  for  his  new  levies.  The  two  Houses,  on 
the  other  hand,  gained  in  unity  and  vigour  by  the  withdrawal  of  the 
royalists.  The  militia  was  rapidly  enrolled.  Lord  Warwick  named 
to  the  command  of  the  fleet,  and  a  loan  opened  in  the  city  to  which 
the  women  brought  even  their  wedding  rings.  The  tone  of  the  two 
Houses  had  risen  with  the  threat  of  force  :  and  their  last  proposals 
demanded  the  powers  of  appointing  and  dismissing  the  royal  ministers, 
naming  guardians  for  the  royal  children,  and  of  virtually  controlling 
military,  civil,  and  religious  affairs.  "  If  I  granted  your  demands," 
replied  Charles,  "  I  should  be  no  more  than  the  mere  phantom  of  a 
king." 

Section  VI I. -The  Civil  VTar.    July  1642— Aug.  164.6. 

[Authorities. — To  those  before  given  we  may  add  Warburton's  biography 
of  Prince  Rupert,  Mr.  Clements  Markham's  life  of  Fairfax,  the  Fairfax  Cor- 
respondence, and  Ludlow's  "  Memoirs."  Sprigg's  "  Anglia  Rediviva "  gives 
an  account  of  the  New  Model  and  its  doings.  For  Cromwell,  the  primary 
authority  is  Mr.  Carlyle's  "  Life  and  Letters,"  an  invaluable  store  of  docu- 
ments, edited  with  the  care  of  an  antiquary  and  the  genius  of  a  poet. 
Clarendon,  who  now  becomes  of  greater  value,  gives  a  good  account,  of  the 
Cornish  rising.] 

The  breaking  off  of  negotiations  was  followed  on  both  sides  by  pre- 
parations for  immediate  war.  Hampden,  Pym,  and  Hollis  became  the 
guiding  spirits  of  a  Committee  of  Public  Safety  which  was  created  by 
Parliament  as  its  administrative  organ  ;  English  and  Scotch  officers 
were  drawn  from  the  Low  Countries,  and  Lord  Essex  named  com- 
mander of  an  army,  which  soon  rose  to  twenty  thousand  foot  and  four 
thousand  horse.  The  confidence  on  the  Parliamentary  side  was  great ; 
"  we  all  thought  one  battle  would  decide,"  Baxter  confessed  after  the 
first  encounter  ;  for  the  King  was  almost  destitute  of  money  and  arms, 
and  in  spite  of  his  strenuous  efforts  to  raise  recruits  he  was  embarrassed 
by  the  reluctance  of  his  own  adherents  to  begin  the  struggle.  Re- 
solved, however,  to  force  on  a  contest,  he  raised  the  Royal  Standard 


548 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


at  Nottingham  "  on  the  evening  of  a  very  stormy  and  tempestuous 
day,"  but  the  country  made  no  answer  to  his  appeal ;  while  Essex,  who 
had  quitted  London  amidst  the  shouts  of  a  great  multitude,  with  orders 
from  the  Parliament  to  follow  the  King,  "  and  by  battle  or  other  way 
rescue  him  from  his  perfidious  counsellors  and  restore  him  to  Parlia- 
ment," mustered  his  army  at  Northampton.  Charles  had  but  a 
handful  of  men,  and  the  dash  of  a  few  regiments  of  horse  would  have 
ended  the  war  ;  but  Essex  shrank  from  a  decisive  stroke,  and  trusted 
to  reduce  the  King  to  submission  by  a  show  of  force.  As  Charles 
fell  back  on  Shrewsbury,  Essex  too  moved  westward  and  occupied 
Worcester.  But  the  whole  face  of  affairs  suddenly  changed.  Catholics 
and  royalists  rallied  fast  to  the  King's  standard,  and  a  bold  march 
on  London  drew  Essex  from  Worrester  to  protect  the  capital.  The 
two  armies  fell  in  with  one  another  on  the  field  of  Edgehill,  near 
Banbury.  The  encounter  was  a  surprise,  and  the  battle  which 
followed  was  little  more  than  a  confused  combat  of  horse.  At  its 
outset  the  desertion  of  Sir  Faithful  Fortescue  with  a  whole  regiment 
threw  the  Parliamentary  forces  into  disorder,  while  the  royalist 
horse  on  either  wing  drove  the  cavalry  of  the  enemy  from  the 
field  ;  but  the  foot  soldiers  of  Lord  Essex  broke  the  infantry-  which 
formed  the  centre  of  the  King's  line,  and  though  his  nephew. 
Prince  Rupert,  brought  back  his  squadrons  in  time  to  save  Charles 
from  capture  or  tlight,  the  night  fell  on  a  drawn  battle.  The  moral 
advantage,  however,  rested  with  the  King.  Essex  had  learned  that 
his  troopers  were  no  match  for  the  Cavaliers,  and  his  withdrawal  to 
Warwick  left  open  the  road  to  the  capital.  Rupert  pressed  for  an 
instant  march  on  London,  but  the  proposal  found  stubborn  opponents 
among  the  moderate  royalists,  who  dreaded  the  complete  triumph  of 
Charles  as  much  as  his  defeat.  The  King  therefore  paused  for  the 
time  at  Oxford,  where  he  was  received  with  uproarious  welcome  ;  and 
when  the  cowardice  of  its  garrison  delivered  Reading  to  Rupert's 
horse,  and  his  daring  capture  of  Brentford  drew  the  royal  army  in  his 
support  almost  to  the  walls  of  the  capital,  the  panic  of  the  Londoners 
was  already  over,  and  the  junction  of  their  trainbands  with  the  army 
of  Essex  forced  Charles  to  fall  back  again  on  his  old  quarters.  But 
though  the  Parliament  rallied  quickly  from  the  blow  of  Edgehill,  the 
war,  as  its  area  widened  through  the  winter,  went  steadily  for  the 
King.  The  fortification  of  Oxford  gave  him  a  firm  hold  on  the  mid- 
land counties  ;  while  the  balance  of  the  two  parties  in  the  north  was 
overthrown  by  the  march  of  the  Earl  of  Newcastle,  with  the  force  he 
had  raised  in  Northumberland,  upon  York.  Lord  Fairfax,  the  Parlia- 
mentary leader  in  that  county,  was  thrown  back  on  the  manufacturing 
towns  of  the  West  Riding,  where  Puritanism  found  its  stronghold  ;  and 
the  arrival  of  the  Queen  with  arms  from  Holland  encouraged  the  royal 
army  to  push  its  scouts  across  the  Trent,  and  threaten  the  eastern 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


549 


counties,  which  held  firmly  for  the  Parliament.  The  stress  of  the  war 
was  shown  by  the  vigorous  exertions  of  the  two  Houses.  Some 
negotiations  which  had  gone  on  into  the  spring  were  broken  off  by  the 
old  demand  that  the  King  should  return  to  his  Parliament  ;  London 
was  fortified  ;  and  a  tax  of  two  millions  a  year  was  laid  on  the  districts 
which  adhered  to  the  Parliamentary  cause.  Essex,  whose  army  had 
been  freshly  equipped,  was  ordered  to  advance  upon  Oxford  ;  but 
though  the  King  held  himself  ready  to  fall  back  on  the  west,  the  Earl 
shrank  from  again  risking  his  raw  army  in  an  encounter.  He  confined 
himself  to  the  recapture  of  Reading,  and  to  a  month  of  idle  encampment 
round  Brill. 

But  while  disease  thinned  his  ranks  and  the  royalists  beat  yp  his 
quarters  the  war  went  more  and  more  for  the  King.  The  inaction  of 
Essex  enabled  Charles  to  send  a  part  of  his  small  force  at  Oxford  to 
strengthen  a  royalist  rising  in  the  west.  Nowhere  was  the  royal  cause 
to  take  so  brave  or  noble  a  form  as  among  the  Cornishmen.  Cornwall 
stood  apart  from  the  general  life  of  England  :  cut  off  from  it  not  only 
by  differences  of  blood  and  speech,  but  by  the  feudal  tendencies  of  its 
people,  who  clung  with  a  Celtic  loyalty  to  their  local  chieftains,  and 
suffered  their  fidelity  to  the  Crown  to  determine  their  own.  They  had 
as  yet  done  little  more  than  keep  the  war  out  of  their  own  county  ;  but 
the  march  of  a  small  Parliamentary  force  under  Lord  Stamford  upon 
Launceston  forced  them  into  action.  A  little  band  of  Cornishmen 
gathered  round  the  chivalrous  Sir  Bevil  Greenvil,  '*  so  destitute  of  pro- 
visions that  the  best  officers  had  but  a  biscuit  a  day,"  and  with  only  a 
handful  of  powder  for  the  whole  force  ;  but  starving  and  outnumbered 
as  they  were,  they  scaled  the  steep  rise  of  Stratton  Hill,  sword  in 
hand,  and  drove  Stamford  back  on  Exeter,  with  a  loss  of  two  thousand 
men,  his  ordnance  and  baggage  train.  Sir  Ralph  Hopton,  the  best  of 
the  royalist  generals,  took  the  command  of  their  army  as  it  advanced 
into  Somerset,  and  drew  the  stress  of  the  war  into  the  West.  Essex 
despatched  a  picked  force  under  Sir  William  Waller  to  check  their 
advance  ;  but  Somerset  was  already  lost  ere  he  reached  Bath,  and  the 
Cornishmen  stormed  his  strong  position  on  Lansdowne  Hill  in  the  teeth 
of  his  guns.  But  the  stubborn  fight  robbed  the  victors  of  their  leaders  ; 
Hopton  was  wounded,  and  Greenvil  slain  ;  while  soon  after,  at  the  siege 
of  Bristol,  fell  two  other  heroes  of  the  httle  army,  Sir  Nicholas  Slanning 
and  Sir  John  Trevanion,  "  both  young,  neither  of  them  above  eight  and 
twenty,  of  entire  friendship  to  one  another,  and  to  Sir  Bevil  Greenvil." 
Waller,  beaten  as  he  was,  hung  on  their  weakened  force  as  it  moved 
for  aid  upon  Oxford,  and  succeeded  in  cooping  up  the  foot  in  Devizes. 
But  the  horse  broke  through,  and  joining  a  force  which  Charles  had 
sent  to  their  relief,  turned  back,  and  dashed  Waller's  army  to  pieces  in 
a  fresh  victory  on  Roundway  Down.  The  Cornish  rising  seemed  to 
decide  the  fortune  of  the  war  ;  and  the  succours  which  his  Queen  was 


550 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Sec   VII. 

The  Civil 
War 

1642 

TO 

164-6 


Death  of 
Hain/><iej» 


The 
Covenant 


Sept.  6 


Leajpi*  with 
Scotland 


bringing  him  from  the  army  of  the  North  determined  Charles  to 
make  a  fresh  advance  upon  London.  He  was  preparing  for  this 
advance,  when  Rupert  in  a  daring  raid  from  Oxford  on  the  Pariia- 
mentary  army,  met  a  party  of  horse  with  Hampden  at  its  head,  on 
Chalgrove  field.  The  skirmish  ended  in  the  success  of  the  royalists, 
and  Hampden  was  seen  riding  off  the  field  before  the  action  was  done, 
"  which  he  never  used  to  do,"  with  his  head  bending  down,  and  resting 
his  hands  upon  the  neck  of  his  horse.  He  was  mortally  wounded,  and 
his  death  seemed  an  omen  of  the  ruin  of  the  cause  he  loved.  Disaster 
followed  disaster.  Essex,  more  and  more  anxious  for  a  peace,  fell  back 
on  Uxbridge  ;  while  a  cowardly  surrender  of  Bristol  to  Prince  Rupert 
gave  .Charles  the  second  city  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  mastery  of  the 
West  The  news  fell  on  the  Parliament  "  like  a  sentence  of  death/' 
The  Lords  debated  nothing  but  proposals  of  peace.  London  itself 
was  divided  ;  ''  a  great  multitude  of  the  wives  of  substantial 
citizens"  clamoured  at  the  door  of  the  Commons  for  peace;  and 
a  flight  of  six  of  the  few  peers  who  remained  at  Westminster  to 
the  camp  at  Oxford  proved  the  general  despair  of  the  Parliament's 
success. 

From  this  moment,  however,  the  firmness  of  the  Parliamentary 
leaders  began  slowly  to  reverse  the  fortunes  of  the  war.  If  Hampden 
was  gone,  Pym  remained.  The  spirit  of  the  Commons  was  worthy  of 
their  great  leader  :  and  Waller  was  received  on  his  return  from  Round- 
way  Hill  "as  if  he  had  brought  the  King  prisoner  with  him."  A  new 
army  was  placed  under  the  command  of  Lord  Manchester  to  check 
the  progress  of  Newcastle  in  the  North.  But  in  the  West  the  danger 
was  greatest.  Prince  Maurice  continued  his  brother  Rupert's  career 
of  success,  and  his  conquest  of  Barnstaple  and  Exeter  secured  Devon 
for  the  King.  Gloucester  alone  interrupted  the  communications 
between  his  forces  in  Bristol  and  in  the  north ;  and  Charles  moved 
against  the  city,  with  hope  of  a  speedy  surrender.  But  the  gallant 
resistance  of  the  town  called  Essex  to  its  relief.  It  was  reduced  to  a 
single  barrel  of  powder  when  the  Earl's  approach  forced  Charles  to  raise 
the  siege  ;  and  the  Puritan  army  fell  steadily  back  again  on  London, 
after  an  indecisive  engagement  near  Newbury,  in  which  Lord  Falkland 
fell,  "ingeminating  'Peace,  peace!'"  and  the  London  trainbands  flung 
Rupert's  horsemen  roughly  off  their  front  of  pikes.  In  this  posture  of 
his  affairs  nothing  but  a  great  victory  could  have  saved  the  King,  for 
the  day  which  witnessed  the  triumphant  return  of  Essex  witnessed 
the  solemn  taking  of  the  Covenant.  Pym  had  resolved  at  last  to 
fling  the  Scotch  sword  into  the  wavering  balance  ;  and  in  the  darkest 
hour  of  the  Parliament's  cause  Sir  Harry  Vane  had  been  despatched 
to  Edinburgh  to  arrange  the  terms  on  which  the  aid  of  Scotland 
would  be  given.  First  amongst  them  stood  the  demand  of  a  "  unity 
in  Religion  ;"  an  adoption,  in  other  worJs,  of  the  Presbyterian  system 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


551 


by  the  Church  of  England.  Events  had  moved  so  rapidly  since  the 
earlier  debates  on  Church  government  in  the  Commons  that  some 
arrangement  of  this  kind  had  become  a  necessity.  The  bishops  to  a 
man,  and  the  bulk  of  the  clergy  whose  bent  was  purely  episcopal,  had 
joined  the  royal  cause,  and  were  being  expelled  from  their  livings  as 
"  delinquents."  Some  new  system  of  Church  government  was  impera- 
tively called  for  by  the  religious  necessities  of  the  country ;  and, 
though  Pym  and  the  leading  statesmen  were  still  in  opinion  moderate 
Episcopalians,  the  growing  force  of  Presbyterianism,  and  still  more  the 
needs  of  the  war,  forced  them  to  seek  such  a  system  in  the  adoption 
of  the  Scotch  discipline.  Scotland,  for  its  part,  saw  that  the  triumph 
of  the  Parliament  was  necessary  for  its  own  security  ;  and  whatever 
difficulties  stood  in  the  way  of  Vane's  wary  and  rapid  negotiations 
were  removed  by  the  policy  of  the  King.  While  the  Parliament  looked 
for  aid  to  the  north,  Charles  had  been  seeking  assistance  from  the  Irish 
rebels.  The  massacre  had  left  them  the  objects  of  a  vengeful  hate  such 
as  England  had  hardly  known  before,  but  with  Charles  they  were 
simply  counters  in  his  game  of  king-craft.  The  conclusion  of  a  truce 
with  the  Confederate  Catholics  left  the  army  under  Lord  Ormond, 
which  had  hitherto  held  their  revolt  in  check,  at  the  King's  disposal 
for  service  in  England.  With  the  promise  of  Catholic  support  Charles 
might  even  think  himself  strong  enough  to  strike  a  blow  at  the 
Government  in  Edinburgh  ;  and  negotiations  were  soon  opened  with 
the  Irish  Catholics  to  support  by  their  landing  in  Argyleshire  a  rising 
of  the  Highlanders  under  Montrose.  None  of  the  King's  schemes 
proved  so  fatal  to  his  cause  as  these.  As  the  rumour  of  his  inten- 
tions spread,  officer  after  officer  in  his  own  army  flung  down  their 
commissions,  the  peers  who  had  fled  to  Oxford  fled  back  again  to 
London,  and  the  royalist  reaction  in  the  Parliament  itself  came  utterly 
to  an  end.  Scotland,  anxious  for  its  own  safety,  hastened  to  sign  the 
Covenant;  and  the  Commons,  "with  upHfted  hands,"  swore  in  St. 
Margaret's  church  to  observe  it.  They  pledged  themselves  to  "  bring 
the  Churches  of  God  in  the  three  Kingdoms  to  the  nearest  conjunction 
and  uniformity  in  religion,  confession  of  faith,  form  of  Church  govern- 
ment, direction  for  worship  and  catechizing  ;  that  we,  and  our  posterity 
after  us,  may  as  brethren  live  in  faith  and  love,  and  the  Lord  may 
delight  to  live  in  the  midst  of  us" :  to  extirpate  Popery,  prelacy,  super- 
stition, schism,  and  profaneness  ;  to  "  preserve  the  rights  and  privileges 
of  the  Parliament,  and  the  liberties  of  the  Kingdom  ;"  to  punish  malig- 
nants  and  opponents  of  reformation  in  Church  and  State  ;  to  "  unite 
the  two  Kingdoms  in  a  firm  peace  and  union  to  all  posterity."  The 
Covenant  ended  with  a  solemn  acknowledgement  of  national  sin,  and  a 
vow  of  reformation.  "  Our  true,  unfeigned  purpose,  desire,  and  endea- 
vour for  ourselves  and  all  others  under  our  power  and  charge,  both  in 
public  and  private,  in  all  duties  we  owe  to  God  and  man,  is  to  amend 


552 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


our  lives,  and  each  one  to  go  before  another  in  the  example  of  a  real 
reformation." 

The  conclusion  of  the  Covenant  had  been  the  last  work  of  Pym. 
A  "  Committee  of  the  Two  Kingdoms  "  which  was  entrusted  after  his 
death  in  December  with  the  conduct  of  the  war  and  of  foreign  affairs 
did  their  best  to  carry  out  the  plans  he  had  formed  for  the  coming 
year.  The  vast  scope  of  these  plans  bears  witness  to  his  amazing 
ability.  Three  strong  armies,  comprising  a  force  of  fifty  thousand 
men,  had  been  raised  for  the  coming  campaign.  Essex,  with  the  army 
of  the  centre,  was  charged  with  the  duty  of  watching  the  king  at  Oxford. 
Waller,  with  another  army,  was  to  hold  Prince  Maurice  in  check  in  the 
west.  The  force  of  fourteen  thousand  men  which  had  been  raised  by 
the  zeal  of  the  eastern  counties,  and  in  which  Cromwell's  name  was 
becoming  famous  as  a  leader,  was  raised  into  a  third  army  under  Lord 
Manchester,  ready  to  co-operate  in  Yorkshire  with  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax. 
With  Alexander  Leslie,  Lord  Leven,  at  its  head,  the  Scotch  army  crossed 
the  border  in  January  "in  a  great  frost  and  snow,"  and  Newcastle  was 
forced  to  hurry  northward  to  arrest  its  march.  His  departure  freed 
the  hands  of  Fairfax,  who  threw  himself  on  the  English  troops  from 
Ireland  that  had  landed  at  Chester,  and  after  cutting  them  to  pieces 
marched  as  rapidly  back  to  storm  Selby.  The  danger  in  his  rear 
called  back  Newcastle,  who  returned  from  confronting  the  Scots  at 
Durham  to  throw  himself  into  York,  where  he  was  besieged  by 
Fairfax  and  by  the  Scotch  army.  The  plans  of  Pym  were  now  rapidly 
developed.  While  Manchester  marched  with  the  army  of  the  Associated 
Counties  to  join  the  forces  of  Fairfax  and  Lord  Leven  under  the  walls 
of  York,  Waller  and  Essex  gathered  their  troops  round  Oxford.  Charles 
was  thrown  on  the  defensive.  The  troops  from  Ireland  on  which  he 
counted  had  been  cut  to  pieces  by  Fairfax  or  by  Waller,  and  in 
North  and  South  he  seemed  utterly  overmatched.  But  he  was  far 
from  despairing.  He  had  already  answered  Newcastle's  cry  for  aid  by 
despatching  Prince  Rupert  from  Oxford  to  gather  forces  on  the  Welsh 
border  ;  and  the  brilliant  partizan,  after  breaking  the  sieges  of  Newark 
and  Lathom  House,  burst  over  the  Lancashire  hills  into  Yorkshire, 
slipped  by  the  Parliamentary  army,  and  made  his  way  untouched  into 
York.  But  the  success  of  this  feat  of  arms  tempted  him  to  a  fresh  act 
of  daring ;  he  resolved  on  a  decisive  battle,  and  a  discharge  of  musketry 
from  the  two  armies  as  they  faced  each  other  on  Marston  Moor 
brought  on,  as  evening  gathered,  a  disorderly  engagement.  On  the 
one  flank  a  charge  of  the  King's  horse  broke  that  of  the  enemy  ;  on 
the  other,  Cromwell's  brigade  won  as  complete  a  success  over  Rupert's 
troopers.  "  God  made  them  as  stubble  to  our  swords,"  wrote  the 
general  at  the  close  of  the  day  ;  but  in  the  heat  of  victory  he  called 
back  his  men  from  the  chase  to  back  Manchester  in  his  attack  on  the 
royalist  foot,  and  to  rout  their  other  wing  of  horse  as  it  returned 


VIII,] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


553 


breathless  from  pursuing  the  Scots.  Nowhere  had  the  fighting  been 
so  fierce.  A  young  Puritan  who  lay  dying  on  the  field  told  Cromwell 
as  he  bent  over  him  that  one  thing  lay  on  his  spirit.  "  I  asked  him 
what  it  was,"  Cromwell  wrote  afterwards.  "  He  told  me  it  was  that 
God  had  not  suffered  him  to  be  any  more  the  executioner  of  His 
enemies."  At  night-fall  all  was  over ;  and  the  royalist  cause  in  the 
north  had  perished  at  a  blow.  Newcastle  fled  over  sea:  York  sur 
rendered,  and  Rupert,  with  about  six  thousand  horse  at  his  back,  rode 
southward  to  Oxford.  The  blow  was  the  more  terrible  that  it  fell 
on  Charles  at  a  moment  when  his  danger  in  the  south  was  being 
changed  into  triumph  by  a  series  of  brilliant  and  unexpected  suc- 
cesses. After  a  month's  siege  the  King  had  escaped  from  Oxford 
followed  by  Essex  and  Waller  ;  had  waited  till  Essex  marched  to 
attack  Prince  Maurice  at  Lyme  ;  and  then,  turning  fiercely  on 
Waller  at  Cropredy  Bridge,  had  driven  him  back  broken  to  London, 
two  days  before  the  battle  of  Marston  Moor  Charles  followed 
up  his  success  by  hurrying  in  the  track  of  Essex,  whom  he  hoped 
to  crush  between  his  own  force  and  that  under  Maurice.  By  a  fatal 
error,  Essex  plunged  into  Cornwall,  where  the  country  was  hostile, 
and  where  the  King  hemmed  him  in  among  the  hills,  drew  his  lines 
tightly  round  his  army,  and  forced  the  whole  body  of  the  foot  to 
surrender  at  his  mercy,  while  the  horse  cut  their  way  through  the 
besiegers,  and  Essex  himself  fled  by  sea  to  London.  The  day  of  the 
surrender  was  signalized  by  a  royalist  triumph  in  Scotland  which 
promised  to  undo  what  Marston  Moor  had  done.  The  Irish  Catholics 
fulfilled  their  covenant  with  Charles  by  the  landing  of  Irish  soldiers 
in  Argyle  ;  and  as  had  long  since  been  arranged,  Montrose,  throwing 
himself  into  the  Highlands,  called  the  clans  to  arms.  Flinging  his 
new  force  on  that  of  the  Covenanters  at  Tippermuir,  he  gained  a 
victory  which  enabled  him  to  occupy  Perth,  to  sack  Aberdeen,  and  to 
spread  terror  to  Edinburgh  The  news  fired  Charles,  as  he  came  up  from 
the  west,  to  venture  on  a  march  upon  London ;  but  though  the  Scots  were 
detained  at  Newcastle  the  rest  of  the  victors  at  Marston  Moor  lay  in 
his  path  at  Newbury  ;  and  their  force  was  strengthened  by  the  soldiers 
who  had  surrendered  in  Cornwall,  but  who  had  been  again  brought  into 
the  field.  The  charges  of  the  royalists  failed  to  break  the  Parliamentary 
squadrons,  and  the  soldiers  of  Essex  wiped  away  the  shame  of  their 
defeat  by  flinging  themselves  on  the  cannon  they  had  lost,  and  bringing 
them  back  in  triumph  to  their  lines.  Cromwell  would  have  seized  the 
moment  of  victory,  but  the  darkness  hindered  his  charging  with  his 
single  brigade.  Manchester,  meanwhile,  in  spite  of  the  prayers  of  his 
officers,  refused  to  attack.  Like  Essex,  he  shrank  from  a  crowning 
victory  over  the  King.  Charles  was  allowed  to  withdraw  his  army  to 
Oxford,  and  even  to  reappear  unchecked  in  the  field  of  his  defeat. 
The  quarrel  of  Cromwell  with  Lord  Manchester  at  Newbury  was 

T* 


554 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VII. 

Thk  Civil 
War 

1642 

TO 

1646 

1599 


CromivelV$ 
brigade 


destined  to  give  a  new  colour  and  direction  to  the  war.  Pym,  in  fact, 
had  hardly  been  borne  to  his  grave  in  Westminster  Abbey  before 
England  instinctively  recognized  a  successor  of  yet  greater  genius  in 
the  victor  of  Marston  Moor.  Born  in  the  closing  years  of  Elizabeth's 
reign,  the  child  of  a  cadet  of  the  great  house  of  the  Cromwells  of 
Hinchinbrook,  and  of  kin  through  their  mothers  with  Hampden  and 
St.  John,  Oliver  had  been  recalled  by  his  father's  death  from  a  short 
stay  at  Cambridge  to  the  little  family  estate  at  Huntingdon,  which  he 
quitted  for  a  farm  at  St.  Ives.  We  have  already  seen  his  mood  during 
the  years  of  personal  rule,  as  he  dwelt  in  "prolonging"  and  "blackness" 
amidst  fancies  of  coming  death,  the  melancholy  which  formed  the 
ground  of  his  nature  feeding  itself  on  the  inaction  of  the  time.  But  his 
energy  made  itself  felt  the  moment  the  tyranny  was  over.  His 
father  had  sat,  with  three  of  his  uncles,  in  the  later  Parliaments  of 
Elizabeth.  Oliver  had  himself  been  returned  to  that  of  1628,  and  the 
town  of  Cambridge  sent  him  as  its  representative  to  the  Short  Parlia- 
ment as  to  the  Long.  It  is  in  the  latter  that  a  courtier.  Sir  Philip  War- 
wick, gives  us  our  first  glimpse  of  his  actual  appearance.  "  I  came  into 
the  House  one  morning,  well  clad,  and  perceived  a  gentleman  speaking 
whom  I  knew  not,  very  ordinarily  apparelled,  for  it  was  a  plain  cloth 
suit,  which  seemed  to  have  been  made  by  an  ill  country  tailor.  His 
linen  was  plain,  and  not  very  clean  ;  and  I  remember  a  speck  or  two  of 
blood  upon  his  little  band,  which  was  not  much  larger  than  his  collar. 
His  hat  was  without  a  hat-band.  His  stature  was  of  a  good  size  ;  his 
sword  stuck  close  to  his  side  ;  his  countenance  swoln  and  reddish  ; 
his  voice  sharp  and  untuneable,  and  his  eloquence  full  of  fervour."  He 
was  already  "  much  hearkened  unto,"  but  his  power  was  to  assert  itself 
in  deeds  rather  than  in  words.  Men  of  his  own  time  marked  him  out 
from  all  others  by  the  epithet  of  Ironside.  He  appeared  at  the  head  of 
a  troop  of  his  own  raising  at  Edgehill ;  but  with  the  eye  of  a  born  soldier 
he  at  once  saw  the  blot  in  the  army  of  Essex.  "  A  set  of  poor  tapsters 
and  town  apprentices,"  he  warned  Hampden,  "would  never  fight  against 
men  of  honour  ;"  and  he  pointed  to  religious  enthusiasm  as  the  one 
weapon  which  could  meet  the  chivalry  of  the  Cavalier.  Even  to  Hamp- 
den the  plan  seemed  impracticable ;  but  the  regiment  of  a  thousand  men 
which  Cromwell  raised  for  the  Association  of  the  Eastern  Counties  was 
formed  strictly  of  "men  of  religion."  He  spent  his  fortune  freely  on 
the  task  he  set  himself  "The  business  ....  hathhadof  me  in  money 
between  eleven  and  twelve  hundred  pounds,  therefore  my  private 
estate  can  do  little  to  help  the  public.  ...  I  have  little  money  of  my 
own  (left)  to  help  my  soldiers."  But  they  were  "  a  lovely  company,"  he 
tells  his  friends  with  soldierly  pride.  No  blasphemy,  drinking,  disorder, 
or  impiety  were  sufiered  in  their  ranks.  "  Not  a  man  swears  but  he 
pays  his  twelve  pence."  Nor  was  his  choice  of  "men  of  religion"  the 
only  innovation  Cromwell  introduced  into  his  new  reeiment.     The 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


555 


social  traditions  which  restricted  command  to  men  of  birth  were  dis- 
regarded. "  It  may  be/'  he  wrote,  in  answer  to  complaints  from  the 
committee  of  the  Association, "  it  provokes  your  spirit  to  see  such  plain 
men  made  captains  of  horse.  It  had  been  well  that  men  of  honour 
and  birth  had  entered  into  their  employments  ;  but  why  do  they  not 
appear  1  But  seeing  it  is  necessary  the  work  must  go  on,  better  plain 
men  than  none :  but  best  to  have  men  patient  of  wants,  faithful  and 
conscientious  in  their  employment,  and  such,  I  hope,  these  will 
approve  themselves."  The  words  paint  Cromwell's  temper  accurately 
enough  :  he  is  far  more  of  the  practical  soldier  than  of  the  reformer  ; 
though  his  genius  already  breaks  in  upon  his  aristocratic  and  con- 
servative sympathies,  and  catches  glimpses  of  the  social  revolution  to 
which  the  war  was  drifting.  "  I  had  rather,"  he  once  burst  out  im- 
patiently, "have  a  plain  russet-coated  captain,  that  knows  what  he 
fights  for  and  loves  what  he  knows,  than  what  you  call  a  gentleman, 
and  is  nothing  else.  I  honour  a  gentleman  that  is  so  indeed  ! "  he 
ends  with  a  characteristic  return  to  his  more  common  mood  of  feeling. 
The  same  practical  temper  broke  out  in  a  more  startling  innovation. 
Bitter  as  had  been  his  hatred  of  the  bishops,  and  strenuously  as  he  had 
worked  to  bring  about  a  change  in  Church  government,  Cromwell, 
like  most  of  the  Parliamentary  leaders,  seems  to  have  been  content 
with  the  new  Presbyterianism,  and  the  Presbyterians  were  more  than 
content  with  him.  Lord  Manchester  "  suffered  him  to  guide  the  army 
at  his  pleasure."  "  The  man,  Cromwell,"  writes  the  Scotchman  Baillie, 
"  is  a  very  wise  and  active  head,  universally  well  beloved  as  religious 
and  stout."  But  against  dissidents  from  the  legal  worship  of  the 
Church  the  Presbyterians  were  as  bitter  as  Laud  himself ;  and,  as  we 
shall  see.  Nonconformity  was  rising  into  proportions  which  made  its 
claim  of  toleration,  of  the  freedom  of  religious  worship,  one  of  the  pro- 
blems of  the  time.  Cromwell  met  the  problem  in  his  unspeculative 
fashion.  He  wanted  good  soldiers  and  good  men ;  and,  if  they 
were  these,  the  Independent,  the  Baptist,  the  Leveller,  found  entry 
among  his  troops.  "  You  would  respect  them,  did  you  see  them,"  he 
answered  the  panic-stricken  Presbyterians  who  charged  them  with 
"  Anabaptistry  "  and  revolutionary  aims  :  "  they  are  no  Anabaptists  : 
they  are  honest,  sober  Christians  ;  they  expect  to  be  used  as  men." 
He  was  soon  to  be  driven — as  in  the  social  change  we  noticed  before 
—to  a  far  larger  and  grander  point  of  view.  But  as  )  et  he  was  busier 
with  his  new  regiment  than  with  theories  of  Church  and  State ;  and 
his  horsemen  were  no  sooner  in  action  than  they  proved  themselves 
such  soldiers  as  the  war  had  never  seen  yet.  "  Truly  they  were  never  j 
beaten  at  all,"  their  leader  said  proudly  at  its  close.  At  Winceby  fight 
they  charged  "singing  psalms,"  cleared  Lincolnshire  of  the  Cavaliers, 
and  freed  the  eastern  counties  from  all  danger  from  Newcastle's  par- 
tizans.    At  Marston  Moor  they  faced  and  routed  Rupert's  chivalry.    At 


.5S<^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Newbury  it  was  only  Manchester's  reluctance  that  hindered  them  from 
completing  the  ruin  of  Charles. 

Cromwell  had  shown  his  capacity  for  organization  in  the  creation  of 
his  regiment ;  his  military  genius  had  displaced  itself  at  Marston  Moor. 
Newbury  first  raised  him  into  a  political  loader.  "  Without  a  more 
speedy,  vigorous,  and  effective  prosecution  of  the  war,"  he  said  to  the 
Commons  after  his  quarrel  with  Manchester,  "  casting  off  all  lingering 
proceedings,  like  those  of  soldiers  of  fortune  beyond  sea  to  spin  out  a 
war,  we  shall  make  the  kingdom  weary  of  us,  and  hate  the  name  of  a 
Parliament "  But  under  the  leaders  who  at  present  conducted  it 
a  vigorous  conduct  of  the  war  was  hopeless.  They  were,  in  Cromwell's 
plain  words,  "  afraid  to  conquer."  They  desired  not  to  crush  Charles, 
but  to  force  him  back,  with  as  much  of  his  old  strength  remaining  as 
might  be,  to  the  position  of  a  constitutional  King.  The  old  loyalty, 
too,  clogged  their  enterprise  ;  they  shrank  from  the  taint  of  treason. 
"  If  the  King  be  beaten,"  Manchester  urged  at  Newbury,  "  he  will  still 
be  king  ;  if  he  beat  us  he  will  hang  us  all  for  traitors."  To  a  mood  like 
this  Cromwell's  attitude  seemed  horrible;  "  If  1  met  the  King  in  battle," 
he  answered,  according  to  a  later  story,  "  I  would  fire  my  pistol  at  the 
King  as  at  another."  The  army,  too,  as  he  long  ago  urged  at  Edge- 
hill,  was  not  an  army  to  conquer  with.  Now,  as  then,  he  urged  that 
till  the  whole  force  was  new  modelled,  and  placed  under  a  strictei 
discipline,  "they  must  not  expect  any  notable  success  in  anything 
they  went  about."  But  the  first  step  in  such  a  re-organization  must 
be  a  change  of  officers.  The  army  was  led  and  officered  by  members 
of  the  two  Houses,  and  the  Self-denying  C  rdinance,  as  it  was  intro- 
duced by  Cromwell  and  Vane,  declared  the  tenure  of  military  or  civil 
offices  incompatible  with  a  seat  in  either.  The  long  and  bitter  resist- 
ance which  this  measure  met  before  it  was  finally  passed  in  a  modified 
form  was  justified  at  a  later  time  by  the  political  results  which  followed 
the  rupture  of  the  tie  which  had  hitherto  bound  the  army  to  the  Parlia- 
ment. But  the  drift  of  public  opinion  was  too  strong  to  be  withstood. 
The  passage  of  the  Ordinance  brought  about  the  retirement  of  Essex, 
Manchester,  and  Waller  ;  and  the  new  organization  of  the  army  went 
rapidly  on  under  a  new  commander-in-chief,  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  the 
hero  of  the  long  contest  in  Yorkshire,  and  who  had  been  raised  into 
fame  by  his  victory  at  Nantwich,  and  his  bravery  at  Marston  Moor. 
But  behind  Fairfax  stood  Cromwell ;  and  the  principles  on  which 
Cromwell  had  formed  his  brigade  were  carried  out  on  a  larger  scale 
in  the  "  New  Model."  The  one  aim  was  to  get  together  twenty 
thousand  "  honest "  men.  "  Be  careful,"  Cromwell  had  written,  "  what 
captains  of  horse  you  choose,  what  men  be  mounted.  A  few  honest 
men  are  better  than  numbers.  If  you  choose  godly  honest  men  to  be 
captains  of  horse,  honest  men  will  follow  them."  The  result  was  a 
curious  medley  of  men  of  different  ranks  among  the  officers  of  the  New 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


557 


Model.  The  bulk  of  those  in  high  command  remained  men  of  noble 
or  gentle  blood,  Montagues,  Pickerings,  Fortescues,  Sheffields,  Sidneys, 
and  the  like.  But  side  by  side  with  these,  though  in  far  smaller  pro- 
portion, were  seen  officers  like  Ewer,  who  had  been  a  serving-man, 
like  Okey,  who  had  been  a  drayman,  or  Rainsborough,  who  had  been 
a  "  skipper  at  sea."  A  result  hardly  less  notable  was  the  youth  of  the 
officers.  Among  those  in  high  command  there  were  few  who,  like 
Cromwell,  had  passed  middle  age.  Fairfax  was  but  thirty-three,  and 
most  of  his  colonels  were  even  younger.  Equally  strange  was  the 
mixture  of  religions  in  its  ranks  ;  though  a  large  proportion  of  the  in- 
fantry was  composed  of  pressed  recruits,  the  cavalry  was  for  the  most 
part  strongly  Puritan,  and  in  that  part  of  the  army  especially  dissidence 
of  every  type  had  gained  a  firm  foothold. 

Of  the  political  and  religious  aspect  of  the  New  Model  we  shall  have  to 
speak  at  a  later  time  ;  as  yet  its  energy  was  directed  solely  to  "  the  speedy 
and  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war."  Fairfax  was  no  sooner  ready  for 
action  than  the  policy  of  Cromwell  was  aided  by  the  policy  of  the  King. 
From  the  hour  when  Newbury  marked  the  breach  between  the  peace 
and  war  parties  in  the  Parliament,  the  Scotch  Commissioners  and  the 
bulk  of  the  Commons  had  seen  that  their  one  chance  of  hindering 
what  they  looked  on  as  revolution  in  Church  and  State  lay  in  pressing 
for  fresh  negotiations  with  Charles.  Commissioners  met  at  Uxbridge 
to  draw  up  a  treaty ;  but  the  hopes  of  concession  which  Charles  held  out 
were  suddenly  withdrawn  in  the  spring.  He  saw,  as  he  thought,  the 
Parliamentary  army  dissolved  and  ruined  by  its  new  modelling,  at  an 
instant  when  news  came  from  Scotland  of  fresh  successes  on  the  part 
of  Montrose,  and  of  his  overthrow  of  the  Marquis  of  Argyle's  troops  in 
the  victory  of  Inverlochy.  "  Before  the  end  of  the  summer,"  wrote  the 
conqueror,  "  I  shall  be  in  a  position  to  come  to  your  Majesty's  aid 
with  a  brave  army."  The  party  of  war  gained  the  ascendant ;  and  in 
May  the  King  opened  his  campaign  by  a  march  to  the  north.  Leicester 
was  stormed,  the  blockade  of  Chester  raised,  and  the  eastern  counties 
threatened,  until  Fairfax,  who  had  been  unwillingly  engaged  in  a 
siege  of  Oxford,  hurried  at  last  on  his  track.  Cromwell,  who  had 
been  suffered  by  the  House  to  retain  his  command  for  a  few  days 
in  spite  of  the  Ordinance,  joined  Fairfax  as  he  drew  near  the  King,  and 
his  arrival  was  greeted  by  loud  shouts  of  welcome  from  the  troops. 
The  two  armies  met  near  Naseby,  to  the  north-west  of  Northampton. 
The  King  was  eager  to  fight.  "  Never  have  my  affairs  been  in  as 
good  a  state,"  he  cried  ;  and  Prince  Rupert  was  as  impatient  as  his 
uncle.  On  the  other  side,  even  Cromwell  doubted  as  a  soldier  the 
success  of  the  newly-drilled  troops,  though  religious  enthusiasm  swept 
away  doubt  in  the  assurance  of  victory.  "  I  can  say  this  of  Naseby," 
he  wrote  soon  after,  "  that  when  I  saw  the  enemy  draw  up  and 
march    in   gallant   order   towards   us,   and   we   a   company   of    poor 


558 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


ignorant  men,  to  seek  to  order  our  battle,  the  general  having  com- 
manded me  to  order  all  the  horse,  I  could  not,  riding  alone  about 
my  business,  but  smile  out  to  God  in  praises,  in  assurance  of  victory, 
because  God  would  by  things  that  are  not  bring  to  nought  things 
that  are.  Of  which  I  had  great  assurance,  and  God  did  it.*'  The 
battle  began  with  a  furious  charge  of  Rupert  uphill,  which  routed 
the  wing  opposed  to  him  under  Ireton  ;  while  the  royalist  foot, 
after  a  single  discharge,  clubbed  their  muskets  and  fell  on  the  centre 
under  Fairfax  so  hotly  that  it  slowly  and  stubbgrnly  gave  way. 
But  Cromwell's  brigade  were  conquerors  on  the  left.  A  single  charge 
broke  the  northern  horse  under  Langdale,  who  had  already  fled  before 
them  at  Marston  Moor  ;  and  holding  his  troops  firmly  in  hand,  Crom- 
well fell  with  them  on  the  flank  of  the  royalist  foot  in  the  very  crisis 
of  its  success.  A  panic  of  the  King's  reserve,  and  its  flight  from  the 
field,  aided  his  efforts  :  it  was  in  vain  that  Rupert  returned  with  forces 
exhausted  by  pursuit,  that  Charles,  in  a  passion  of  despair,  called  on 
his  troopers  for  *'  one  charge  more."  The  battle  was  over  :  artillery, 
baggage,  even  the  royal  papers,  fell  into  the  conquerors'  hands  ;  five 
thousand  men  surrendered  ;  only  two  thousand  followed  the  King  in 
his  headlong  flight  from  the  field.  The  war  was  ended  at  a  blow. 
While  Charles  wandered  helplessly  along  the  Welsh  border  in  search 
of  fresh  forces,  Fairfax  marched  rapidly  into  Somersetshire,  and  routed 
the  royal  forces  at  Langport.  A  victory  at  Kilsyth,  which  gave  Scotland 
for  the  moment  to  Montrose,  threw  a  transient  gleam  over  the  darken- 
ing fortunes  of  his  master's  cause  ;  but  the  surrender  of  Bristol  to  the 
Parliamentary  army,  and  the  dispersion  of  the  last  force  Charles  could 
collect  in  an  attempt  to  relieve  Chester,  was  followed  by  news  of  the 
crushing  and  irretrievable  defeat  of  the  "Great  Marquis"  at  Philip- 
haugh.  In  the  wreck  of  the  royal  cause  we  may  pause  for  a  moment 
over  an  incident  which  brings  out  in  relief  the  best  temper  of  both  sides. 
Cromwell  "  spent  much  time  with  God  in  prayer  before  the  storm  "  of 
Basing  House,  where  the  Marquis  of  Winchester  had  held  stoutly  out 
through  the  war  for  the  King.  The  storm  ended  its  resistance,  and 
the  brave  old  royalist  was  brought  in  a  prisoner  with  his  house  flaming 
around  him.  He  "  broke  out,"  reports  a  Puritan  bystander,  "  and 
said,  'that  if  the  King  had  no  more  ground  in  England  but  Basing 
House  he  would  adventure  it  as  he  did,  and  so  maintain  it  to  the 
uttermost,'  comforting  himself  in  this  matter  'that  Basing  House  was 
called  Loyalty.' "  Of  loyalty  such  as  this  Charles  was  utterly  unworthy. 
The  seizure  of  his  papers  at  Naseby  had  hardly  disclosed  his  earlier 
intrigues  with  the  Irish  Catholics  when  the  Parliament  was  able  to 
reveal  to  England  a  fresh  treaty  with  them,  which  purchased  no  longer 
their  neutrality,  but  their  aid,  by  the  simple  concession  of  every  demand 
they  had  made.  The  shame  was  without  profit,  for  whatever  aid 
Ireland  might  have  given  came  too  late  to  be  of  service.     The  spring 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


559 


of  1646  saw  the  few  troops  who  still  clung  to  Charles  surrounded  and 
routed  at  Stow.  "  You  have  done  your  work  now,"  their  leader,  Sir 
Jacob  Astley,  said  bitterly  to  his  conquerors,  "  and  may  go  to  play, 
unless  you  fall  out  among  yourselves." 


Section  VIII. -The  Army  and  the  Parliament.     1646— 164-9. 

[Authorities. — Mainly  as  before,  though  Clarendon,  invaluable  during  the 
war,  is  tedious  and  unimportant  here,  and  Cromwell's  letters  become,  unfortu- 
nately, few  at  the  moment  when  we  most  need  their  aid.  On  the  other  hand 
Ludlow  and  Whitelock,  as  well  as  the  passionate  and  unscrupulous  "  Memoirs  " 
of  Holies  and  Major  Hutchinson,  become  of  much  importance.  For  Charles 
himself,  we  have  Sir  Thomas  Herbert's  "Memoirs"  of  the  last  two  years  of 
this  reign.  Burnet's  "  Lives  of  the  Hamiltons  "  throw  a  good  deal  of  light 
on  Scotch  affairs  at  this  time,  and  Sir  James  Turner's  *'  Memoir  of  the  Scotch 
Invasion."  The  early  history  of  the  Independents,  and  of  the  principle  of 
religious  freedom,  is  told  by  Mr.  Masson  ("  Life  of  Milton,"  vol.  iii.).] 

With  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  we  enter  on  a  time  of  confused 
struggles,  a  time  tedious  and  uninteresting  in  its  outer  details,  but  of 
higher  interest  than  even  the  war  itself  in  its  bearing  on  our  after  his- 
tory. Modern  England,  the  England  among  whose  thoughts  and 
sentiments  we  actually  live,  began  however  dimly  with  the  triumph 
of  Naseby.  Old  things  passed  silently  away.  When  Astley  gave  up 
his  sword  the  "  work "  of  the  generations  which  had  struggled  for 
Protestantism  against  Catholicism,  for  public  liberty  against  absolute 
rule,  in  his  own  emphatic  phrase,  was  "  done."  So  far  as  these  con- 
tests were  concerned,  however  the  later  Stuarts  might  strive  to  revive 
them,  England  could  safely  "  go  to  play."  But  with  the  end  of  this 
older  work  a  new  work  began.  The  constitutional  and  ecclesiastical 
problems  which  still  in  one  shape  or  another  beset  us  started  to  the 
front  as  subjects  of  national  debate  in  the  years  between  the  close  of 
the  Civil  War  and  the  death  of  the  King.  The  great  parties  which 
have  ever  since  divided  the  social,  the  political,  and  the  religious  life 
of  England,  whether  as  Independents  and  Presbyterians,  as  Whigs 
and  Tories,  as  Conservatives  and  Liberals,  sprang  into  organized 
existence  in  the  contest  between  the  Army  and  the  Parliament.  Then 
for  the  first  time  began  a  struggle  which  is  far  from  having  ended  yet, 
a  struggle  between  political  traditipn  and  political  progress,  between 
the  principle  of  religious  conforn-^ity  and  the  principle  of  religious 
freedom. 

It  was  the  religious  struggle  which  drew  the  politicaJ  in  its  train. 
We  have  already  witnessed  the  rise  under  Elizabeth  of  sects  who  did 
not  aim,  like  the  Presbyterians,  at  a  change  in  Church  government, 
but  rejected  the  notion  of  a  national  Church  at  all,  and  insisted  on  the 
right  of  each  congregation  to  perfect  independence  of  faith  and  worship. 
At  the  close  of  the  Queen's  reign,  however,  these  "  Brownists  "  had 


s«o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


almost  entirely  disappeared.  Some  of  the  dissidents,  as  in  the  notable 
instance  of  the  congregation  that  produced  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  had 
found  a  refuge  in  Holland ;  but  the  bulk  had  been  driven  by  perse- 
cution to  a  fresh  conformity  with  the  Established  Church.  "  As  for 
those  which  we  call  Brownists,"  says  Bacon,  "  being  when  they  were 
at  the  best  a  very  small  number  of  very  silly  and  base  people,  here  and 
there  in  corners  dispersed,  they  are  now,  thanks  to  God,  by  the  good 
remedies  that  have  been  used,  suppressed  and  worn  out  so  that  there 
is  scarce  any  news  of  them."  As  soon,  however,  as  Abbot's  primacy 
promised  a  milder  rule,  the  Separatist  refugees  began  to  venture 
timidly  back  again  to  England.  During  their  exile  in  Holland  the 
main  body  had  contented  themselves  with  the  free  developement  of 
their  system  of  independent  congregations,  each  forming  in  itself  a 
complete  Church,  and  to  them  the  name  of  Independents  attached 
itself  at  a  later  time.  A  small  part,  however,  had  drifted  into  a  more 
marked  severance  in  doctrine  from  the  Established  Church,  especially 
in  their  belief  of  the  necessity  of  adult  baptism,  a  belief  from  which 
their  obscure  congregation  at  Leyden  became  known  as  that  of  the 
Baptists.  Both  of  these  sects  gathered  a  church  in  London  in  the 
middle  of  James's  reign,  but  the  persecuting  zeal  of  Laud  prevented 
any  spread  of  their  opinions  under  that  of  his  successor  ;  and  it  was 
not  till  their  numbers  were  suddenly  increased  by  the  return  of  a  host 
of  emigrants  from  New  England,  with  Hugh  Peters  at  their  head,  on 
the  opening  of  the  Long  Parliament,  that  the  Congregational  or  Inde- 
pendent body  began  to  attract  attention.  Lilburne  and  Burton  soon 
declared  themselves  adherents  of  what  was  called  "  the  New  England 
way  ;  "  and  a  year  later  saw  in  London  alone  the  rise  of  "  four  score 
congregations  of  several  sectaries,"  as  Bishop  Hall  scornfully  tells  us, 
"  instructed  by  guides  fit  for  them,  cobblers,  tailors,  felt-makers, 
and  such-like  trash."  But  little  religious  weight  however  could  be 
attributed  as  yet  to  the  Congregational  movement.  Baxter  at  this 
time  had  not  heard  of  the  existence  of  any  Independents.  Milton  in 
his  earlier  pamphlets  shows  no  sign  of  their  influence.  Of  the 
hundred  and  five  ministers  present  in  the  Westminster  Assembly 
only  five  were  Congregational  in  sympathy,  and  these  were  all  returned 
refugees  from  Holland.  Among  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  London 
ministers  in  1643,  ^^h'  three  wer^  suspected  of  leanings  towards  the 
Sectaries. 

The  struggle  with  Charles  in  fact  at  its  outset  only  threw  new 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  religious  freedom.  It  was  with  strictly  con- 
servative aims  in  ecclesiastical  as  in  political  matters  that  Pym  and 
his  colleagues  began  the  strife.  Their  avowed  purpose  was  simply  to 
restore  the  Church  of  England  to  its  state  under  Elizabeth,  and  to  free 
it  from  "  innovations,"  from  the  changes  introduced  by  Laud  and  his 
fellow  prelates.     The  great  majority  of  the  Parliament  were  averse  to 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


561 


any  alterations  in  the  constitution  or  doctrine  of  the  Church  itself ;  and 
it  was  only  the  refusal  of  the  bishops  to  accept  any  diminution  of  their 
power  and  revenues,  the  growth  of  a  party  hostile  to  Episcopalian 
government,  the  necessity  for  purchasing  the  aid  of  the  Scots  by  a 
union  in  religion  as.  in  politics,  and  above  all  the  urgent  need  of  con- 
structing some  new  ecclesiastical  organization  in  the  place  of  the  older 
organization  which  had  become  impossible  from  the  political  attitude 
of  the  bishops,  that  forced  on  the  two  Houses  the  adoption  of  the 
Covenant.  But  the  change  to  a  Presbyterian  system  of  Church  govern- 
ment seemed  at  that  time  of  little  import  to  the  bulk  of  Englishmen. 
The  dogma  of  the  necessity  of  bishops  was  held  by  few,  and  the 
change  was  generally  regarded  with  approval  as  one  which  brought 
the  Church  of  England  nearer  to  that  of  Scotland  and  to  the  reformed 
Churches  of  the  Continent.  But  whatever  might  be  the  change  in  its 
administration,  no  one  imagined  that  it  had  ceased  to  be  the  Church 
of  England,  or  that  it  had  parted  with  its  right  to  exact  conformity  to 
its  worship  from  the  nation  at  large.  The  Tudor  theory  of  its  relation 
to  the  State,  of  its  right  to  embrace  all  Enghshmen  within  its  pale,  and 
to  dictate  what  should  be  their  faith  and  form  of  worship,  remained 
utterly  unquestioned  by  any  man  of  note.  The  sentiments  on  which 
such  a  theory  rested  indeed  for  its  main  support,  the  power  of  his- 
torical tradition,  the  association  of  "  dissidence  "  with  danger  to  the 
State,  the  strong  English  instinct  of  order,  the  as  strong  English 
dislike  of  "  innovations,"  with  the  abhorrence  of  "  indifferency,"  as  a 
sign  of  lukewarmness  in  matters  of  religion,  had  only  been  intensified 
by  the  earlier  incidents  of  the  struggle  with  the  King.  The  Parliament 
therefore  had  steadily  pressed  on  the  new  system  of  ecclesiastical 
government  in  the  midst  of  the  troubles  of  the  war.  An  Assembly  of 
Divines  which  was  called  together  at  Westminster  in  1643,  and  which 
sat  in  the  Jerusalem  Chamber  during  the  five  years  which  followed,  was 
directed  to  revise  the  Articles,  to  draw  up  a  Confession  of  Faith,  and 
a  Directory  of  Public  Worship  ;  and  these  with  a  scheme  of  Church 
government,  a  scheme  only  distinguished  from  that  of  Scotland  by  the 
significant  addition  of  a  lay  court  of  superior  appeal  set  by  Parliament 
over  the  whole  system  of  Church  courts  and  assemblies,  were  accepted 
by  the  Houses  and  embodied  in  a  series  of  Ordinances. 

Had  the  change  been  made  at  the  moment  when  "  with  upHfted 
hands "  the  Commons  swore  to  the  Covenant  in  St.  Margaret's  it 
would  probably  have  been  accepted  by  the  country  at  large.  But  it 
met  with  a  very  different  welcome  when  it  came  at  the  end  of  the 
war.  In  spite  of  repeated  votes  of  Parliament  for  its  establishment, 
the  pure  Presbyterian  system  took  root  only  in  London  and  Lanca- 
shire. While  the  Divines,  indeed,  were  drawing  up  their  platform  of 
uniform  belief  and  worship  in  the  Jerusalem  Chamber,  dissidence  had 
grown  into  a  religious  power.     In  the  terrible  agony  of  the  struggle 


562 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


against  Charles,  individual  conviction  became  a  stronger  force  than 
religious  tradition.  Theological  speculation  took  an  unprecedented 
boldness  from  the  temper  of  the  times.  Four  years  after  the  war  had 
begun  a  horror-stricken  pamphleteer  numbered  sixteen  religious  sects 
as  existing  in  defiance  of  the  law  ;  and,  widely  as  these  bodies  differed 
among  themselves,  all  were  at  one  in  repudiating  any  right  of  control  in 
faith  or  worship  by  the  Church  or  its  clergy.  Milton  himself  had  left 
his  Presbyterian  stand-point,  and  saw  that  "  new  Presbyter  is  but  old 
Priest  writ  large."  The  question  of  sectarianism  soon  grew  into  a 
practical  one  from  its  bearing  on  the  war :  for  the  class  specially 
infected  with  the  new  spirit  of  religious  freedom  was  just  the  class  to 
whose  zeal  and  vigour  the  Parliament  was  forced  to  look  for  success 
in  its  struggle.  We  have  seen  the  prevalence  of  this  spirit  among  the 
farmers  from  whom  Cromwell  drew  his  horsemen,  and  his  enlistment 
of  these  "  sectaries  "  was  the  first  direct  breach  in  the  old  system  of 
conformity.  The  sentiments  of  the  farmers  indeed  were  not  his  own. 
Cromwell  had  signed  the  Covenant,  and  there  is  no  reason  for  crediting 
him  with  any  aversion  to  Presbyterianism  as  a  system  of  doctrine  or 
of  Church  organization.  His  first  step  was  a  purely  practical  one,  a 
step  dictated  by  military  necessities,  and  excused  in  his  mind  by  a 
sympathy  with  "  honest "  men,  as  well  as  by  the  growing  but  still  vague 
notion  of  a  communion  among  Christians  wider  than  that  of  outer 
conformity  in  worship  or  belief.  But  the  alarm  and  remonstrances  of 
the  Presbyterians  forced  his  mind  rapidly  forward  on  the  path  of  tole- 
ration. "  The  State  in  choosing  men  to  serve  it,"  Cromwell  wrote 
before  Marston  Moor,  "takes  no  notice  of  these  opinions.  If  they  be 
willing  faithfully  to  serve  it,  that  satisfies/'  Marston  Moor  spurred 
him  to  press  on  the  Parliament  the  need  of  at  least  "tolerating"  dissi- 
dents ;  and  he  succeeded  in  procuring  the  appointment  of  a  Committee 
of  the  Commons  to  find  some  means  of  effecting  this.  But  the  con- 
servative temper  of  the  bulk  of  the  Puritans  was  at  last  roused  by  his 
efforts.  "  We  detest  and  abhor,"  wrote  the  London  clergy  in  1645, 
"the  much  endeavoured  Toleration  ; "  and  the  Corporation  of  London 
petitioned  Parliament  to  suppress  all  sects  "  without  toleration."  The 
Parliament  itself  too  remained  steady  on  the  conservative  side.  But 
the  fortunes  of  the  war  told  for  religious  freedom.  Essex  and  his 
Presbyterians  only  marched  from  defeat  to  defeat.  In  remodelling 
the  army  the  Commons  had  rejected  a  demand  made  by  the  Lords 
that  officers  and  men,  besides  taking  the  Covenant,  should  submit  "  to 
the  form  of  Church  government  that  was  already  voted  by  both 
Houses."  The  victory  of  Naseby  raised  a  wider  question  than  that  of 
mere  toleration.  "  Honest  men  served  you  faithfully  in  this  action," 
Cromwell  wrote  to  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  from  the 
field.  "  Sir,  they  arc  trusty  :  I  beseech  you  in  the  name  of  God  not  to 
discourage  them.      He  that  ventures  his  life  for  the  liberty  of  his 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


563 


country,  I  wish  he  trust  God  for  the  liberty  of  his  conscience."  The 
storm  of  Bristol  encouraged  him  to  proclaim  the  new  principles  yet 
more  distinctly.  "  Presbyterians,  Independents,  all  here  have  the 
same  spirit  of  faith  and  prayer,  the  same  presence  and  answer.  They 
agree  here,  have  no  names  of  difference  ;  pity  it  is  it  should  be  other- 
wise anywhere.  All  that  believe  have  the  real  unity,  which  is  the 
most  glorious,  being  the  inward  and  spiritual,  in  the  body  and  in  the 
head.  For  being  united  in  forms  (commonly  called  uniformity),  every 
Christian  will  for  peace'  sake  study  and  do  as  far  as  conscience  will 
permit.  And  from  brethren  in  things  of  the  mind  we  look  for  no 
compulsion  but  that  of  light  and  reason." 

The  increasing  firmness  of  Cromwell's  language  was  due  to  the 
growing  irritation  of  his  opponents.  The  two  parties  became  every 
day  more  clearly  defined.  The  Presbyterian  ministers  complained 
bitterly  of  the  increase  of  the  sectaries,  and  denounced  the  toleration 
which  had  come  into  practical  existence  without  sanction  from  the 
law.  Scotland,  whose  army  was  still  before  Newark,  pressed  for  the 
execution  of  the  Covenant  and  the  universal  enforcement  of  a  religious 
uniformity.  Sir  Harry  Vane,  on  the  other  hand,  was  striving  to  bring 
the  Parliament  round  to  less  rigid  courses  by  the  introduction  of  two 
hundred  and  thirty  new  members,  who  filled  the  seats  left  vacant  by 
royalist  secessions,  and  the  more  eminent  of  whom,  such  as  Ireton  and 
Algernon  Sidney,  were  inclined  to  support  the  Independents.  But  it 
was  only  the  pressure  of  the  New  Model,  and  the  remonstrances  of 
Cromwell  as  its  mouthpiece,  which  hindered  any  effective  movement 
towards  persecution.  Amidst  the  wreck  of  his  fortunes  Charles  in- 
trigued busily  with  both  parties,  and  promised  liberty  of  worship  to 
Vane  and  the  Independents,  at  the  moment  when  he  was  negotiating 
with  the  Parliament  and  the  Scots.  His  negotiations  were  quickened 
by  the  march  of  Fairfax  upon  Oxford.  Driven  from  his  last  refuge, 
the  King  after  some  aimless  wanderings  made  his  appearance  in  the 
camp  of  the  Scots.  Lord  Leven  at  once  fell  back  with  his  royal  prize 
to  Newcastle.  The  new  aspect  of  affairs  threatened  the  party  of 
religious  freedom  with  ruin.  Hated  as  they  were  by  the  Scots,  by  the 
Lords,  by  the  city  of  London,  the  apparent  junction  of  Charles  with 
their  enemies  destroyed  their  growing  hopes  in  the  Commons,  where 
the  prospects  of  a  speedy  peace  on  Presbyterian  terms  at  once  swelled 
the  majority  of  their  opponents.  The  two  Houses  laid  their  conditions 
of  peace  before  the  King  without  a  dream  of  resistance  from  one  who 
seemed  to  have  placed  himself  at  their  mercy.  They  required  for  the 
Parliament  the  command  of  the  army  and  fleet  for  twenty  years  ;  the 
exclusion  of  all  "  Malignants,"  or  royalists  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
war,  from  civil  and  military  office  ;  the  abolition  of  Episcopacy  ;  and 
the  establishment  of  a  Presbyterian  Church.  Of  toleration  or  liberty 
of  conscience  they  said  not  a  word.     The  Scots  pressed  these  terms 


564 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


on  the  King  "  with  tears ; "  his  friends,  and  even  the  Queen,  urged 
their  acceptance.  But  the  aim  of  Charles  was  simply  delay.  Time 
and  the  dissensions  of  his  enemies,  as  he  believed,  were  fighting  for 
him.  "  I  am  not  without  hope,"  he  wrote  coolly,  "  that  I  shall  be  able 
to  draw  either  the  Presbyterians  or  the  Independents  to  side  with  me 
for  extirpating  one  another,  so  that  I  shall  be  really  King  again." 
His  refusal  of  the  terms  offered  by  the  Houses  was  a  crushing  defeat 
for  the  Presbyterians.  "  What  will  become  of  us,"  asked  one  of  them, 
"  now  that  the  King  has  rejected  our  proposals  ?  "  "  What  would  have 
become  of  us,"  retorted  an  Independent,  "had  he  accepted  them.**" 
The  vigour  of  Holies  and  the  Conservative  leaders  in  the  Parliament 
rallied  however  to  a  bolder  effort.  The  King's  game  lay  in  balancing 
the  army  against  the  Parliament ;  and  while  the  Scotch  army  lay  at 
Newcastle  the  Houses  could  not  insist  on  dismissing  their  own.  It 
was  only  a  withdrawal  of  the  Scots  from  England  and  their  transfer  of 
the  King's  person  into  the  hands  of  the  Houses  that  would  enable 
them  to  free  themselves  from  the  pressure  of  their  own  soldiers  by 
disbanding  the  New  Model.  Hopeless  of  success  with  the  King,  and 
unable  to  bring  him  into  Scotland  in  face  of  the  refusal  of  the  General 
Assembly  to  receive  a  sovereign  who  would  not  swear  to  the  Cove- 
nant, the  Scottish  army  accepted  ^400,000  in  discharge  of  its  claims, 
handed  Charles  over  to  a  committee  of  the  Houses,  and  marched 
back  over  the  Border.  Masters  of  the  King,  the  Presbyterian  leaders 
at  once  moved  boldly  to  their  attack  on  the  New  Mode?  and  the 
Sectaries.  They  voted  that  the  army  should  be  disbanded,  and  that 
a  new  army  should  be  raised  for  the  suppression  of  the  Irish  rebellion 
with  Presbyterian  officers  at  its  head.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  men 
protested  against  being  severed  from  "  officers  that  we  love,"  and  that 
the  Council  of  Officers  strove  to  gain  time  by  pressing  on  the  Parlia- 
ment the  danger  of  mutiny.  Holies  and  his  fellow-leaders  were 
resolute,  and  their  ecclesiastical  legislation  showed  the  end  at  which 
their  resolution  aimed.  Direct  enforcement  of  confonnity  was  im- 
possible till  the  New  Model  was  disbanded  ;  but  the  Parliament  pressed 
on  in  the  work  of  providing  the  machinery  for  enforcing  it  as  soon  as 
the  army  was  gone.  Note  after  vote  ordered  the  setting  up  of  Presby- 
teries throui;hout  the  country,  and  the  first-fruits  of  these  efforts  were 
seen  in  the  Presbyterian  organization  of  London,  and  in  the  first 
meeting  of  its  Synod  at  St.  Paul's.  Even  the  officers  on  Fairfax's  staff 
were  ordered  to  take  the  Covenant. 

All  hung  however  on  the  disbanding  of  the  New  Model,  and  the 
New  Model  showed  no  will  to  disband  itself.  Its  attitude  can  only 
fairly  be  judged  by  remembering  what  many  of  the  conquerors  of 
Naseby  really  were.  They  were  soldiers  of  a  different  class  and  of  a 
different  temper  from  the  soldiers  of  any  other  army  that  the  world  has 
seen.     They  were  for  the  most  part  young  farmers  and  tradesmen  o( 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND 


56s 


the  lower  sort,  maintaining  themselves,  for  the  pay  was  twelve  months 
in  arrear,  mainly  at  their  own  cost.    The  horsemen  in  many  regiments 
had  been  specially  picked  as  "  honest,"  or  religious  men  ;  and  what- 
ever enthusiasm  or  fanaticism  they  may  have  shown,  their  very  ene- 
mies acknowledged  the  order  and  piety  of  their  camp.     They  looked 
on  themselves   not  as  swordsmen,  to  be  caught  up  and  flung  away 
at  the  will  of  a  paymaster,  but  as  men  who  had  left  farm  and  mer- 
chandise at  a  direct  call  from  God.     A  great  work  had  been  given 
them  to  do,  and  the  call  bound  them  till  it  was  done.     Kingcraft, 
as  Charles  was  hoping,  might  yet  restore  tyranny  to  the  throne.     A 
more  immediate  danger  threatened  that  liberty  of  conscience  which 
was  to  them  "  the  ground  of  the  quarrel,  and  for  which  so  many  of 
their  friends'  lives  had  been  lost,  and  so  much  of  their  own  blood  had 
been  spilt."   They  would  wait  before  disbanding  till  these  liberties  were 
secured,  and  if  need  came  they  would  again  act  to  secure  them.     But 
their  resolve  sprang  from  no  pride  in  the  brute  force  of  the  sword  they 
wielded,     i  n  the  contrary,  as  they  pleaded  passionately  at  the  bar  of 
the  Commons,  "on  becoming    soldiers  we   have  not  ceased  to  be 
citizens."     Their  aims  and  proposals  throughout  were  purely  those  of 
citizens,  and  of  citizens  who  were  ready  the  moment  their  aim  was 
won  to  return  peacefully  to  their  homes.     Thought  and  discussion  had 
turned  the  army  into  a  vast  Parliament,  a  Parliament  which  regarded 
itself  as  representative  of  "  godly "  men  in  as  high  a  degree  as  the 
Parliament  at  Westminster,  and  which  must  have  become  every  day 
more  conscious  of  its  superiority  in  political  capacity  to  its  rival. 
Ireton,  the  moving  spirit  of  the  New  Model,  had  no  equal  as  a  states- 
man in  St.  Stephen's  :  nor  is  it  possible  to  compare  the  large  and  far- 
sighted  proposals  of  the  army  with  the  blind  and  narrow  policy  of  the 
two  Houses.     Whatever  we  may  think  of  the  means  by  which  the  New 
Model  sought  its  aims,  we  must  in  justice  remember  that,  so  far  as 
those  aims  went,  the  New  Model  was  in  the  right.     For  the  last  two 
hundred  years  England  has  been  doing  little  more  than  carrying  out 
in   a  slow  and  tentative  way  the  scheme  of  political  and  religious 
reform  which  the  army  propounded  at  the  close  of  the  Civil  War. 
It  was  not  till  the  rejection  of  the  officers' proposals  had  left  little  hope 
of  conciliation  that  the  army  acted,  but  its   action  was  quick  and 
decisive.     It  set  aside  for  all  political  purposes  the  Council  of  Officers, 
and  elected  a  new  Council  of  Agitators  or  Agents,  two  members  being 
named  by  each  regiment,  which  summoned  a  general  meeting  of  the 
army  at  Triploe  Heath,  where  the  proposals  of  pay  and  disbanding 
made  by  the  Parliament  were  rejected  with  cries  of  "  Justice."     While 
the  army  was  gathering,  in  fact,  the  Agitators  had  taken  a  step  which 
put  submission  out  of  the  question.     A  rumour  that  the  King  was  to 
be  removed  to  London,  a  new  army  raised,  a  new  civil  war  begun, 
roused  the  soldiers   to  madness.     Five   hundred   troopers    suddenly 


Sec.  VIII. 
The  Army 

AND   THE 

Parlia- 
ment 

1646 

TO 

1649 


566 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


appeared  before  Holmby  House,  where  the  King  was  residing  in 
charge  of  Parliamentary  Commissioners,  and  displaced  its  guards. 
"Where  is  your  commission  for  this  act?"  Charles  asked  the  cornet 
who  commanded  them.  "  It  is  behind  me,"  said  Joyce,  pointing  to 
his  soldiers.  "  It  is  written  in  very  fine  and  legible  characters,"  laughed 
the  King.  The  seizure  had  in  fact  been  previously  concerted  between 
Charles  and  the  Agitators.  "  I  will  part  willingly,"  he  told  Joyce,  "  if 
the  soldiers  confirm  all  that  you  have  promised  me.  You  will  exact 
from  me  nothing  that  offends  my  conscience  or  my  honour,"  "  It  is 
not  our  maxim,"  replied  the  cornet,  "  to  constrain  the  conscience  of 
any  one,  still  less  that  of  our  King."  After  a  fresh  burst  of  terror  at 
the  news,  the  Parliament  fell  furiously  on  Cromwell,  who  had  relin- 
quished his  command  and  quitted  the  army  before  the  close  of  the 
war,  and  had  ever  since  been  employed  as  a  mediator  between  the  two 
parties.  The  charge  of  having  incited  the  mutiny  fell  before  his 
vehement  protest,  but  he  was  driven  to  seek  refuge  with  the  army,  and 
on  the  25th  of  June  it  was  in  full  march  upon  London.  Its  demands 
were  expressed  with  perfect  clearness  in  an  "  Humble  Representation  " 
which  it  addressed  to  the  Houses.  "  We  desire  a  settlement  of  the 
Peace  of  the  kingdom  and  of  the  liberties  of  the  subject  according 
to  the  votes  and  declarations  of  Parliament.  We  desire  no  alteration 
in  the  civil  government :  as  little  do  we  desire  to  interrupt  or  in  the 
least  to  intermeddle  with  the  settling  of  the  Presbyterial  government." 
They  demanded  toleration  ;  but  "  not  to  open  a  way  to  licentious  living 
under  pretence  of  obtaining  ease  for  tender  consciences,  we  profess,  as 
ever,  in  these  things  when  the  state  has  made  a  settlement  we  have 
nothing  to  say,  but  to  submit  or  suffer."  It  was  with  a  view  to  such 
a  settlement  that  they  demanded  the  expulsion  of  eleven  members 
from  the  Commons,  with  Holies  at  their  head,  whom  the  soldiers 
charged  with  stirring  up  strife  between  the  army  and  the  Parliament, 
and  with  a  design  of  renewing  the  civil  war.  After  fruitless  negotia- 
tions the  terror  of  the  Londoners  forced  the  eleven  to  withdraw ; 
and  the  Houses  named  Commissioners  to  treat  on  the  questioiis 
at  issue. 

Though  Fairfax  and  Cromwell  had  been  forced  from  their  position 
as  mediators  into  a  hearty  co-operation  with  the  army,  its  political 
direction  rested  at  this  moment  with  Cromwell's  son-in-law,  Henry 
Ireton,  and  Ircton  looked  for  a  real  settlement,  not  to  the  Parliament, 
but  to  the  King.  "  There  must  be  some  difference,"  he  urged  bluntly, 
"  between  conquerors  and  conquered  ;  "  but  the  terms  which  he  laid 
before  Charles  were  terms  of  studied  moderation.  The  vindictive 
spirit  which  the  Parliament  had  shown  against  the  royalists  and  the 
Church  disappeared  in  the  terms  exacted  by  the  New  Model ;  and  the 
army  contented  itself  with  the  banishment  of  seven  leading  "delin- 
quents," a  general  Act  of  Oblivion  for  the  rest,  the  withdravral  of  all 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


567 


coercive  power  from  the  clergy,  the  control  of  Parliament  over  the 
military  and  naval  forces  for  ten  years,  and  its  nomination  of  the  great 
officers  of  State.  Behind  these  demands  however  came  a  masterly  and 
comprehensive  plan  of  political  reform  which  had  already  been 
sketched  by  the  army  in  the  "  Humble  Representation,"  with  which  it 
had  begun  its  march  on  London.  Belief  and  worship  were  to  be  free 
to  all.  Acts  enforcing  the  use  of  the  Prayer-book,  or  attendance  at 
Church,  or  the  enforcement  of  the  Covenant  were  to  be  repealed. 
Even  Catholics,  whatever  other  restraints  might  be  imposed,  were  to 
be  freed  from  the  bondage  of  compulsory  worship.  Parliaments  were 
to  be  triennial,  and  the  House  of  Commons  to  be  reformed  by  a  fairer 
distribution  of  seats  and  of  electoral  rights ;  taxation  was  to  be  re- 
adjusted ;  legal  procedure  simplified  ;  a  crowd  of  political,  commercial, 
and  judicial  privileges  abolished.  Ireton  believed  that  Charles  could 
be  "  so  managed "  (says  Mrs.  Hutchinson)  "  as  to  comply  with  the 
public  good  of  his  people  after  he  could  no  longer  uphold  his  violent 
will."  But  Charles  was  equally  dead  to  the  moderation  and  to  the 
wisdom  of  this  great  Act  of  Settlement.  He  saw  in  the  crisis  nothing 
but  an  opportunity  of  balancing  one  party  against  another  ;  and  be- 
lieved that  the  army  had  more  need  of  his  aid  than  he  of  the  army's. 
"  You  cannot  do  without  me — you  are  lost  if  I  do  not  support  you,"  he 
said  to  Ireton  as  he  pressed  his  proposals.  "  You  have  an  intention  to 
be  the  arbitrator  between  us  and  the  Parliament,"  Ireton  quietly 
replied,  "  and  we  mean  to  be  so  between  the  ParUament  and  your 
Majesty."  But  the  King's  tone  was  soon  explained.  A  mob  of 
Londoners  broke  into  the  House  of  Commons,  and  forced  its  members 
to  recall  the  eleven.  While  some  fourteen  peers  and  a  hundred  com- 
moners fled  to  the  army,  those  who  remained  at  Westminster  prepared 
for  an  open  struggle  with  it,  and  invited  Charles  to  return  to  London. 
But  the  news  no  sooner  reached  the  camp  than  the  army  was  again 
on  the  march.  "  In  two  days,"  Cromwell  said  coolly,  "  the  city  will 
be  in  our  hands."  The  soldiers  entered  London  in  triumph,  and  restored 
the  fugitive  members  ;  the  eleven  were  again  expelled,  and  the  army 
leaders  resumed  negotiations  with  the  King.  The  indignation  of  the 
soldiers  at  his  delays  and  intrigues  made  the  task  hourly  more  difficult ; 
but  Cromwell,  who  now  threw  his  whole  weight  on  Ireton's  side,  clung 
to  the  hope  of  accommodation  with  a  passionate  tenacity.  His  mind, 
conservative  by  tradition,  and  above  all  practical  in  temper,  saw  the 
political  difficulties  which  would  follow  on  the  abolition  of  Monarchy, 
and  in  spite  of  the  King's  evasions  he  persisted  in  negotiating  with 
him.  But  Cromwell  stood  almost  alone  ;  the  Parliament  refused  to 
accept  Ireton's  proposals  as.  a  basis  of  peace,  Charles  still  evaded,  and 
the  army  grew  restless  and  suspicious.  There  were  cries  for  a  wide 
reform,  for  the  abolition  of  the  House  of  Peers,  for  a  new  House  of 
Commons ;    and  the  Agitators  called  on  the  Council  of  Officers  to 


5« 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VIII. 
The  Army 

AND   THE 

Parlia- 
ment 

1646 

TO 

164.9 


Flight  of 

the  King 

^ov.  1647 


The 

Second 

Civil  "War 


1648 


discuss  the  question  of  abolishing  royalty  itself.  Cromwell  was  never 
braver  than  when  he  faced  the  gathering  storm,  forbade  the  discussion, 
adjourned  the  Council,  and  sent  the  officers  to  their  regiments.  But  the 
strain  was  too  great  to  last  long,  and  Charles  was  still  resolute  to  "  play 
his  game."  He  was  in  fact  so  far  from  being  in  earnest  in  his  negotia- 
tion with  Cromwell  and  Ireton,  that  at  the  moment  they  were  risking 
their  lives  for  him  he  was  conducting  another  and  equally  delusive 
negotiation  with  the  Parliament,  fomenting  the  discontent  in  London, 
preparing  for  a  fresh  royalist  rising,  and  for  an  intervention  of  the 
Scots  in  his  favour.  "  The  two  nations,"  he  wrote  joyously,  "  will  soon 
be  at  war."  All  that  was  needed  for  the  success  of  his  schemes  was 
his  own  liberty  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  their  hopes  of  an  accommodation 
the  army  leaders  found  with  astonishment  that  they  had  been  duped 
throughout,  and  that  the  King  had  fled. 

The  flight  fanned  the  excitement  of  the  New  Model  into  frenzy,  and 
only  the  courage  of  Cromwell  averted  an  open  mutiny  in  its  gathering 
at  Ware.  But  even  Cromwell  was  powerless  to  break  the  spirit  which 
now  pervaded  the  soldiers,  and  the  King's  perfidy  left  him  without 
resource.  "  The  King  is  a  man  of  great  parts  and  great  understand- 
ing," he  said,  '*  but  so  great  a  dissembler  and  so  false  a  man  that  he  is 
not  to  be  trusted."  The  danger  from  his  escape  indeed  soon  passed 
away.  By  a  strange  error  Charles  had  ridden  from  Hampton  Court 
to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  perhaps  with  some  hope  from  the  sympathy  of 
Colonel  Hammond,  the  Governor  of  Carisbrook  Castle,  and  again 
found  himself  a  prisoner.  Foiled  in  his  effort  to  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  new  civil  war,  he  set  himself  to  organize  it  from  his  prison  ; 
and  while  again  opening  delusive  negotiations  with  the  Parliament,  he 
signed  a  secret  treaty  with  the  Scots  for  the  invasion  of  the  realm. 
The  practical  suspension  of  the  Covenant  and  the  triumph  of  the 
party  of  religious  liberty  in  England  had  produced  a  violent  reaction 
across  the  Tweed.  The  moderate  party  had  gathered  round  the  Duke 
of  Hamilton,  and  carried  the  elections  against  Argyle  and  the  more 
zealous  religionists  ;  and  on  the  King's  consenting  to  a  stipulation  for 
the  re-establishment  of  Presbytery  in  England,  they  ordered  an  army 
to  be  levied  for  his  support.  In  England  the  whole  of  the  conservative 
party,  with  many  of  the  most  conspicuous  members  of  the  Long 
Parliament  at  its  head,  was  drifting,  in  its  horror  of  the  religious  and 
political  changes  which  seemed  impending,  towards  the  King ;  and 
the  news  from  Scotland  gave  the  signal  for  fitful  insurrections  in 
almost  every  quarter.  London  was  only  held  down  by  main  force, 
old  officers  of  the  Parliament  unfurled  the  royal  flag  in  South  Wales, 
and  surprised  Pembroke.  The  seizure  of  Berwick  and  Carlisle  opened 
a  way  for  the  Scotch  invasion.  Kent,  Essex,  and  Hertford  broke  out 
in  revolt.  The  fleet  in  the  Downs  sent  their  captains  on  shore, 
hoisted  the  King's  pennon,  and  blockaded  the  Thames.     "The  hour 


viil] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


569 


is  come  for  the  Parliament  to  save  the  kingdom  and  to  govern  alone," 
cried  Cromwell ;  but  the  Parliament  only  showed  itself  eager  to  take 
advantage  of  the  crisis  to  profess  its  adherence  to  monarchy,  to  re- 
open the  negotiations  it  had  broken  off  with  the  King,  and  to  deal  the 
fiercest  blow  at  religious  freedom  which  it  had  ever  received.  The 
Presbyterians  flocked  back  to  their  seats  ;  and  an  "  Ordinance  for  the 
suppression  of  Blasphemies  and  Heresies,"  which  Vane  and  Cromwell 
had  long  held  at  bay,  was  passed  by  triumphant  majorities.  Any  man 
— ran  this  terrible  statute — denying  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  or  of 
the  Divinity  of  Christ,  or  that  the  books  of  Scripture  are  "the  Word 
of  God,"  or  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  or  a  future  day  of  judgement, 
and  refusing  on  trial  to  abjure  his  heresy,  "  shall  suffer  the  pain  of 
death."  Any  man  declaring  (amidst  a  long  list  of  other  errors)  "  that 
man  by  nature  hath  free  will  to  turn  to  God,"  that  there  is  a  Purgatory, 
that  images  are  lawful,  that  infant  baptism  is  unlawful  ;  any  one 
denying  the  obligation  of  observing  the  Lord's  day,  or  asserting  "that 
the  Church  government  by  Presbytery  is  anti  Christian  or  unlawful," 
shall  on  a  refusal  to  renounce  his  errors  "be  commanded  to  prison." 
It  was  plain  tliat  the  Presbyterians  counted  on  the  King's  success  to 
resume  their  policy  of  conformity,  and  had  Charles  been  free,  or  the 
Mew  Model  disbanded,  their  hopes  would  probably  have  been  realized. 
But  Charles  .was  still  safe  at  Carisbrook ;  and  the  New  Model  was 
facing  fiercely  the  danger  which  surrounded  it.  The  wanton  renewal 
of  the  war  at  a  moment  when  all  tended  to  peace  swept  from  the  mind 
of  Fairfax  and  Cromwell,  as  from  that  of  the  army  at  large,  every 
thought  of  reconciliation  with  the  King,  Soldiers  and  generals  were 
at  last  bound  together  again  in  a  stern  resolve.  On  the  eve  of  their 
march  against  the  revolt  all  gathered  in  a  solemn  prayer-meeting,  and 
came  "to  a  very  clear  and  joint  resolution,  'That  it  was  our  duty,  if 
ever  the  Lord  brought  us  back  again  in  peace,  to  call  Charles  Stuart, 
that  man  of  blood,  to  account  for  the  blood  he  has  shed  and  mischief 
he  has  done  to  his  utmost  against  the  Lord's  cause  and  people  in  this 
poor  nation.'"  In  a  few  days  Fairfax  had  trampled  down  the  Kentish 
insurgents,  and  had  prisoned  those  of  the  eastern  countries  within  the 
walls  of  Colchester,  while  Cromwell  drove  the  Welsh  insurgents  within 
those  of  Pembroke.  Both  towns  however  held  stubbornly  out ;  and 
though  a  rising  under  Lord  Holland  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Londor» 
was  easily  put  down,  there  was  no  force  left  to  stem  the  inroad  of  the 
Scots,  who  poured  over  the  border  some  twenty  thousand  strong. 
Luckily  the  surrender  of  Pembroke  at  this  critical  moment  set  Crom- 
well free.  Pushing  rapidly  northward  with  five  thousand  men,  he 
called  in  the  force  under  Lambert  which  had  been  gallantly  hanging 
on  the  Scottish  flank,  and  pushed  over  the  Yorkshire  hills  into  the 
valley  of  the  Kibble,  where  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  reinforced  by  three 
thousand  royalists  of  the  north,  had  advanced  as  far  as  Preston.     With 


570 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VIII. 
The  Army 

AND   THE 

Parlia- 
ment 

164.6 

TO 

1649 

Aug.  17, 
1648 


Ruin  of 
the  Par- 
liament 


Demands  of 
tht  A  ruty 


N(fv.  30 


an  army  which  now  numbered  ten  thousand  men,  Cromwell  poured 
down  on  the  flank  of  the  Duke's  straggling  line  of  march,  attacked  the 
Scots  as  they  retired  behind  the  Ribble,  passed  the  river  with  them, 
cut  their  rearguard  to  pieces  at  Wigan,  forced  the  defile  at  Warrington, 
where  the  flying  enemy  made  a  last  and  desperate  stand,  and  drove 
their  foot  to  surrender,  while  Lambert  hunted  down  Hamilton  and  the 
horse.  Fresh  from  its  victory,  the  New  Model  pushed  over  the  Border, 
while  the  peasants  of  Ayrshire  and  the  west  rose  in  the  "  Whiggamore 
raid  "  (notable  as  the  first  event  in  which  we  find  the  name  "  Whig,' 
which  is  possibly  the  same  as  our  "Whey,"  and  conveys  a  taunt 
against  the  "  sour-milk  '  faces  of  the  fanatical  Ayrshiremen),  and, 
marching  upon  Edinburgh,  dispersed  the  royalist  party  and  again 
installed  Argyle  in  power. 

Argyle  welcomed  Cromwell  as  a  deliverer,  but  the  victorious  general 
had  hardly  entered  Edinburgh  when  he  was  recalled  by  pressing  news 
from  the  south.  The  temper  with  which  the  Parliament  had  met  the 
royalist  revolt  was,  as  we  have  seen,  widely  different  from  that  of  the 
army.  It  had  recalled  the  eleven  members,  and  had  passed  the  Ordi- 
nance against  heresy.  At  the  moment  of  the  victory  at  Preston  the 
Lords  were  discussing  charges  of  treason  against  Cromwell,  while 
commissioners  were  again  sent  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in  spite  of  the 
resistance  of  the  Independents,  to  conclude  peace  with  the  King. 
Royalists  and  Presbyterians  alike  pressed  Charles  to  grasp  the  easy 
terms  which  were  now  offered  him.  But  his  hopes  from  Scotland  had 
only  broken  down  to  give  place  to  hopes  of  a  new  war  with  the  aid  of 
an  army  from  Ireland  ;  and  the  negotiators  saw  forty  days  wasted  in 
useless  chicanery.  '*  Nothing,"  Charles  wrote  to  his  friends,  "  is 
changed  in  my  designs."  But  the  surrender  of  Colchester  to  Fairfax 
in  August,  and  Cromwell's  convention  with  Argyle,  had  now  set  free 
the  army,  and  petitions  from  its  regiments  at  once  demanded  "justice 
on  the  King."  A  fresh  "  Remonstrance"  from  the  Council  of  C  fficers 
called  for  the  election  of  a  new  Parliament ;  for  electoral  reform  ;  for 
the  recognition  of  the  supremacy  of  the  Houses  "  in  all  things  ;  "  for 
the  change  of  kingship,  should  it  be  retained,  into  a  magistracy  elected 
by  the  Parliament,  and  without  veto  on  its  proceedings.  Above  all, 
they  demanded  "  that  the  capital  and  grand  author  of  our  troubles,  by 
whose  commissions,  commands,  and  procurements,  and  in  whose 
behalf  and  for  whose  interest  only,  of  will  and  power,  all  our  wars  and 
troubles  have  been,  with  all  the  miseries  attending  them,  may  be 
specially  brought  to  justice  for  the  treason,  blood,  and  mischief  he  is 
therein  guilty  of."  The  demand  drove  the  Houses  to  despair.  Their 
reply  was  to  accept  the  King's  concessions,  unimportant  as  they  were, 
as  a  basis  of  peace.  The  step  was  accepted  by  the  soldiers  as  a 
defiance :  Charles  was  again  seized  by  a  troop  of  horse,  and  carried 
off  to  Hurst  Castle,  while  a  letter  from  Fairfax  announced  the  march 


viir.] 


PUlilTAN  ENGLAND. 


571 


of  his  army  upon  London.  "  We  shall  know  now,"  said  Vane,  as  the 
troops  took  their  post  round  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  "  who  is  on 
the  side  of  the  King,  and  who  on  the  side  of  the  people."  But  the 
terror  of  the  army  proved  weaker  among  the  members  than  the 
agonized  loyalty  which  strove  to  save  the  monarchy  and  the  Church, 
and  a  large  majority  in  both  Houses  still  voted  for  the  acceptance  of 
the  terms  which  Charles  had  offered.  The  next  morning  saw  Colonel 
Pride  at  the  door  of  the  House  of  Commons  with  a  list  of  forty  mem- 
bers of  the  majority  in  his  hands.  The  Council  of  Officers  had 
resolved  to  exclude  them,  and  as  each  member  made  his  appearance 
he  was  arrested,  and  put  in  confinement.  "  By  what  right  do  you 
act  ?  "  a  member  asked.  "  By  the  right  of  the  sword,"  Hugh  Peters  is 
said  to  have  replied.  The  House  was  still  resolute,  but  on  the  follow- 
ing morning  forty  more  members  were  excluded,  and  the  rest  gave 
way.  The  sword  had  fallen  ;  and  the  two  great  powers  which  had 
waged  this  bitter  conflict,  the  Parliament  and  the  Monarchy,  suddenly 
disappeared.  The  expulsion  of  one  hundred  and  forty  members,  in 
a  word  of  the  majority  of  the  existing  House,  reduced  the  Commons 
to  a  name.  The  remnant  who  remained  to  co-operate  with  the 
army  were  no  longer  representative  of  the  will  of  the  country;  in  the 
coarse  imagery  of  popular  speech  they  were  but  the  "riimp  "  of  a  Parlia- 
ment. While  the  House  of  Commons  dwindled  to  a  sham,  the  House  of 
Lords  passed  away  altogether.  The  effect  of  "  Pride's  Purge"  was  seen 
in  a  resolution  of  the  Rump  for  the  trial  of  Charles  and  the  nomination 
of  a  Court  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  Commissioners  to  conduct  it,  with 
John  Bradshaw,  a  lawyer  of  eminence,  at  their  head.  The  rejection  of 
this  Ordinance  by  the  few  peers  who  remained  brought  about  a  fresh 
resolution  from  members  who  remained  in  the  Lower  House,  "  that 
the  People  are,  under  God,  the  original  of  all  just  power ;  that  the 
Commons  of  England  in  Parliament  assembled — being  chosen  by,  and 
representing,  the  People — have  the  supreme  power  in  this  nation  ;  and 
that  whatsoever  is  enacted  and  declared  for  law  by  the  Commons  in 
Parliament  assembled  hath  the  force  of  a  law,  and  all  the  people  of 
this  nation  are  concluded  thereby,  although  the  consent  and  concurrence 
of  the  King  or  House  of  Peers  be  not  had  thereunto." 

Charles  appeared  before  Bradshaw's  Court  only  to  deny  its  compe- 
tence and  to  refuse  to  plead  ;  but  thirty-two  witnesses  were  examined 
to  satisfy  the  consciences  of  his  judges,  and  it  was  not  till  the  fifth  day  of 
the  trial  that  he  was  condemned  to  death  as  a  tyrant,  traitor,  murderer, 
and  enemy  of  his  country.  The  popular  excitement  vented  itself  in 
cries  of  "  Justice,"  or  "  God  save  your  Majesty,"  as  the  trial  went  on, 
but  all  save  the  loud  outcries  of  the  soldiers  was  hushed  as  Charles 
passed  to  receive  his  doom.  The  dignity  which  he  had  failed  to 
preserve  in  his  long  jangling  with  Bradshaw  and  the  judges  returned 
at  the  call  of  death.      Whatever  had  been  the  faults  and  follies  of  his 


572 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  IX. 

The 
Common* 

WEALTH 

1649 

TO 

1653 


The 
Conn  ell 
of  State 


life,  "  he  nothing  common  did  nor  mean,  upon  that  memorable  scene." 
Two  masked  executioners  awaited  the  King  as  he  mounted  the  scaffold, 
which  had  been  erected  outside  one  of  the  windows  of  the  Banqueting 
House  at  Whitehall ;  the  streets  and  roofs  were  thronged  with  spec- 
tators, and  a  strong  body  of  soldiers  stood  drawn  up  beneath.  His 
head  fell  at  the  first  blow,  and  as  the  executioner  lifted  it  to  the  sight 
of  all  a  groan  of  pity  and  horror  burst  from  the  silent  crowd. 


Section  IX.— The  Commonwealth.    1649—1653. 

[Authorities. — Rushworth's  collection  ceases  with  the  King's  Trial ;  White- 
lock  and  Ludlow  continue  as  before,  and  must  be  supplemented  by  the  Parlia- 
mentary History  and  the  State  Trials.  Special  lives  of  Vane  and  Martyn  will 
be  found  in  Mr.  Forster's  '*  Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth,"  and  a  vigorous 
defence  of  the  Council  of  State  in  the  "  History  of  the  Commonwealth,"  by 
Mr.  Bisset.  For  Irish  affairs  see  the  Ormond  Papers  collected  by  Carte,  and 
Cromwell's  despatches  in  Carlyle's  "  Letters."  The  account  given  by  Mr. 
Carlyle  of  the  Scotch  war  is  perhaps  the  most  valuable  portion  of  his  work. 
The  foreign  politics  and  wars  of  this  period  are  admirably  illustrated  with  a 
copious  appendix  of  documents  by  M.  Guizot  ("Republic  and  Cromwell," 
vol.  i. ),  whose  account  of  the  whole  period  is  the  fairest  and  best  for  the  general 
reader.  Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon  has  published  a  biography  of  Blake.]  [Mr. 
Masson's  "  Life  of  Milton,"  vols.  iv.  and  v.,  which  illustrate  this  period,  have 
been  published  since  this  list  was  drawn  up. — Ed.] 

The  news  of  the  King's  death  was  received  throughout  Europe  with 
a  thrill  of  horror.  The  Czar  of  Russia  chased  the  English  envoy 
from  his  court.  The  ambassador  of  France  was  withdrawn  on  the 
proclamation  of  the  Republic.  The  Protestant  powers  of  the  Continent 
seemed  more  anxious  than  any  to  disavow  all  connexion  with  the  Pro- 
testant people  who  had  brought  their  King  to  the  block.  Holland 
took  the  lead  in  acts  of  open  hostility  to  the  new  power  as  soon  as  the 
news  of  the  execution  reached  the  Hague  ;  the  States- General  waited 
solemnly  on  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  took  the  title  of  Charles  the 
Second,  and  recognized  him  as  "  Majesty,"  while  they  refused  an 
audience  to  the  English  envoys.  Their  Stadtholder,  his  brother-in- 
law,  the  Prince  of  Orange,  was  supported  by  popular  sympathy  in  the 
aid  and  encouragement  he  afforded  to  Charles ;  and  eleven  ships  of 
the  English  fleet,  which  had  found  a  refuge  at  the  Hague  ever  since 
their  revolt  from  the  Parliament,  were  suffered  to  sail  under  Rupert's 
command,  and  to  render  the  seas  unsafe  for  English  traders.  The 
danger  was  far  greater  nearer  home.  In  Scotland  Argyle  and  his  party 
proclaimed  Chjirles  the  Second  King,  and  despatched  an  Embassy  to 
the  Hague  to  invite  him  to  ascend  the  throne.  In  Ireland,  Ormond  had 
at  last  brought  to  some  sort  of  union  the  factions  who  ever  since  the 
rebellion  had  turned  the  land  into  a  chaos — the  old  Irish  Catholics  or 
native  party  under  Owen  Roe  O'Neil,  the  Catholics  of  the  English 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


573 


Pale,  the  Episcopalian  Royalists,  the  Presbyterian  Royalists  of  the 
north  ;  and  Ormond  called  on  Charles  to  land  at  once  in  a  country 
where  he  would  find  three-fourths  of  its  people  devoted  to  his  cause. 
Nor  was  the  danger  from  without  met  by  resolution  and  energy  on 
the  part  of  the  diminished  Parliament  which  remained  the  sole 
depositary  of  legal  powers.  The  Commons  entered  on  their  new  task 
with  hesitation  and  delay.  Six  weeks  passed  after  the  King's  execu- 
tion before  the  monarchy  was  formally  abolished,  and  the  government 
of  the  nation  provided  for  by  the  creation  of  a  Council  of  State 
consisting  of  forty-one  members  selected  from  the  Commons,  who 
were  entrusted  with  full  executive  power  at  home  or  abroad.  Two 
months  more  elapsed  before  the  passing  of  the  memorable  Act  which 
declared  "  that  the  People  of  England  and  of  all  the  dominions  and 
territories  thereunto  belonging  are,  and  shall  be,  and  are  hereby  con- 
stituted, made,  estabhshed,  and  confirmed  to  be  a  Commonwealth  and 
Free  State,  and  shall  henceforward  be  governed  as  a  Commonwealth 
and  Free  State  by  the  supreme  authority  of  this  nation,  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  People  in  Parliament,  and  by  such  as  they  shall 
appoint  and  constitute  officers  and  ministers  for  the  good  of  the  people, 
and  that  without  any  King  or  House  of  Lords." 

Of  the  dangers  which  threatened  the  new  Commonwealth  some 
were  more  apparent  than  real.  The  rivalry  of  France  and  Spain,  both 
anxious  for  its  friendship,  secured  it  from  the  hostility  of  the  greater 
powers  of  the  Continent  ;  and  the  ill-will  of  Holland  could  be  delayed, 
if  not  averted,  by  negotiations.  The  acceptance  of  the  Covenant  was 
insisted  on  by  Scotland  before  it  would  formally  receive  Charles  as  its 
ruler,  and  nothing  but  necessity  would  induce  him  to  comply  with  such 
a  demand.  On  the  side  of  Ireland  the  danger  was  more  pressing, 
and  an  army  of  twelve  thousand  men  was  set  apart  for  a  vigorous 
prosecution  of  the  Irish  war.  But  the  real  difficulties  were  the  diffi- 
culties at  home.  The  death  of  Charles  gave  fresh  vigour  to  the  royalist 
cause,  and  the  new  loyalty  was  stirred  to  enthusiasm  by  the  publication 
of  the  "  Eikon  Basilike,"  a  work  really  due  to  the  ingenuity  of  Dr. 
Gauden,  a  Presbyterian  minister,  but  which  was  believed  to  have  been 
composed  by  the  King  himself  in  his  later  hours  of  captivity,  and 
which  reflected  with  admirable  skill  the  hopes,  the  suffering,  and  the 
piety  of  the  royal  "martyr."  The  dreams  of  a  rising  were  roughly 
checked  by  the  execution  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  and  Lords  Holland 
and  Capell,  who  had  till  now  been  confined  in  the  Tower.  But  the 
popular  disaffection  told  even  on  the  Council  of  State.  A  majority  of 
its  members  declined  the  oath  offered  to  them  at  their  earliest  meeting, 
pledging  them  to  an  approval  of  the  King's  death  and  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Commonwealth.  Half  the  judges  retired  from  the  bench. 
Thousands  of  refusals  met  the  demand  of  an  engagement  to  be  faith- 
ful to  the  Republic  which  was  made  to  all  beneficed  clergymen  and 


574 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


public  functionaries.  It  was  not  till  May,  and  even  then  in  spite  of 
the  ill-will  of  the  citizens,  that  the  Council  ventured  to  proclaim  the 
Commonwealth  in  London.  The  army  indeed  had  no  thought  of  sett- 
ing up  a  mere  military  rule.  Still  less  did  it  contemplate  leaving  the 
conduct  of  affairs  to  the  small  body  of  members,  which  still  called  itself 
the  House  of  Commons,  a  body  which  numbered  hardly  a  hundred,  and 
whose  average  attendance  was  little  more  than  fifty.  In  reducing  it  by 
"  Pride's  Purge  "  to  the  mere  shadow  of  a  House  the  army  had  never 
dreamed  of  its  continuance  as  a  permanent  assembly :  it  had,  in  fact, 
insisted  as  a  condition  of  even  its  temporary  continuance  that  it  should 
prepare  a  bill  for  the  summoning  of  a  fresh  Parliament.  The  plan  put 
forward  by  the  Council  of  Officers  is  still  interesting  as  the  basis  of 
many  later  efforts  towards  parliamentary  reform.  It  advised  a  dis- 
solution in  the  spring,  the  assembling  every  two  years  of  a  new 
Parliament  consisting  of  four  hundred  members  elected  by  all  house- 
holders rateable  to  the  poor,  and  a  redistribution  of  seats  which 
would  have  given  the  privilege  of  representation  to  every  place  of 
importance.  Paid  military  officers  and  civil  officials  were  excluded 
from  election.  The  plan  was  apparently  accepted  by  the  Commons, 
and  a  bill  based  on  it  was  again  and  again  discussed,  but  there  w^s  a 
suspicion  that  no  serious  purpose  of  its  own  dissolution  was  enter- 
tained by  the  House.  The  popular  discontent  found  a  mouthpiece  in 
John  Lilburne,  a  brave,  hot-headed  soldier,  and  the  excitement  of  the 
army  appeared  suddenly  in  a  formidable  mutiny  in  May.  "  You  must 
cut  these  people  in  pieces,"  Cromwell  broke  out  in  the  Council  of 
State,  "  or  they  will  cut  you  in  pieces  ;  "  and  a  forced  march  of  fifty 
miles  to  Burford  enabled  him  to  burst  on  the  mutinous  regiments  at 
midnight,  and  to  stamp  out  the  revolt.  But  resolute  as  he  was  against 
disorder,  Cromwell  went  honestly  with  the  army  in  its  demand  of  a 
new  Parliament ;  he  believed,  and  in  his  harangue  to  the  mutineers  he 
pledged  himself  to  the  assertion,  that  the  House  proposed  to  dissolve 
itself.  Within  the  House,  however,  a  vigorous  knot  of  politicians 
was  resolved  to  prolong  its  existence  ;  in  a  witty  paraphrase  of  the 
story  of  Moses,  Henry  Martyn  was  soon  to  picture  the  Common- 
wealth as  a  new-born  and  delicate  babe,  and  hint  that  **  no  one  is  so 
proper  to  bring  it  up  as  the  mother  who  has  brought  it  into  the 
world."  As  yet,  however,  their  intentions  were  kept  secret,  and  in  spite 
of  the  delays  thrown  in  the  way  of  the  bill  for  a  new  Representative 
body  Cromwell  entertained  no  serious  suspicion  of  the  Parliament's 
design,  when  he  was  summoned  to  Ireland  by  a  series  of  royalist 
successes  which  left  only  Dublin  in  the  hands  of  the  Parliamentary 
forces. 

With  Scotland  threatening  war,  and  a  naval  struggle  impending  with 
Holland,  it  was  necessary  that  the  work  of  the  army  in  Ireland  should 
be  done  quickly.     The  temper,  too,  of  Cromwell  arid  his  soldiers  was 


VIILJ 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


•;75 


one  of  vengeance,  for  the  horror  of  the  Irish  massacre  remained  living 
in  every  English  breast,  and  the  revolt  was  looked  upon  as  a  continu- 
ance of  the  massacre.  "  We  are  come,"  he  said  on  his  landing,  "  to 
ask  an  account  of  the  innocent  blood  that  hath  been  shed,  and  to 
endeavour  to  bring  to  an  account  all  who  by  appearing  in  arms  shall 
justify  the  same."  A  sortie  from  Dublin  had  already  broken  up 
Ormond's  siege  of  the  capital ;  and  feeling  himself  powerless  to  keep 
the  field  before  the  new  army,  the  Marquis  had  thrown  his  best  troops, 
three  thousand  Englishmen  under  Sir  Arthur  Aston,  as  a  garrison  into 
Drogheda.  The  storm  of  Drogheda  by  Cromwell  was  the  first  of  a 
series  of  awful  massacres.  The  garrison  fought  bravely,  and  repulsed 
the  first  attack  ;  but  a  second  drove  Aston  and  his  force  back  to  the 
Mill-Mount.  "  Our  men  getting  up  to  them,"  ran  Cromwell's  terrible 
despatch,  "  were  ordered  by  me  to  put  them  all  to  the  sword.  And 
indeed,  being  in  the  heat  of  action,  I  forbade  them  to  spare  any  that 
were  in  arms  in  the  town,  and  I  think  that  night  they  put  to  death 
about  two  thousand  men."  A  few  fled  to  St.  Peter's  church,  "  where- 
upon I  ordered  the  steeple  to  be  fired,  where  one  of  them  was  heard 
to  say  in  the  midst  of  the  flames :  '  God  damn  me,  I  burn,  I  burn.' " 
"  In  the  church  itself  nearly  one  thousand  were  put  to  the  sword. 
I  believe  all  their  friars  were  knocked  on  the  head  promiscuously  but 
two,"  but  these  were  the  sole  exceptions  to  the  rule  of  killing  the 
soldiers  only.  At  a  later  time  Cromwell  challenged  his  enemies  to 
give  "  an  instance  of  one  man  since  my  coming  into  Ireland,  not  in 
arms,  massacred,  destroyed,  or  banished."  But  for  soldiers  who 
refused  to  surrender  on  summons  there  was  no  mercy.  Of  the  rem- 
nant who  were  driven  to  yield  at  last  through  hunger,  "  when  they 
submitted,  their  officers  were  knocked  on  the  head,  every  tenth  man 
of  the  soldiers  killed,  and  the  rest  shipped  for  the  Barbadoes."  "  I 
am  persuaded,"  the  despatch  ends,  "  that  this  is  a  righteous  judge- 
ment of  God  upon  these  barbarous  wretches  who  have  imbrued  their 
hands  in  so  much  innocent  blood,  and  that  it  will  tend  to  prevent  the 
effusion  of  blood  for  the  future."  A  detachment  sufficed  to  relieve 
Derry,  and  to  quiet  Ulster  ;  and  Cromwell  turned  to  the  south,  where 
as  stout  a  defence  was  followed  by  as  terrible  a  massacre  at  Wexford. 
A  fresh  success  at  Ross  brought  him  to  Waterford  ;  but  the  city  held 
stubbornly  out,  disease  thinned  his  army,  where  there  was  scarce  an 
officer  who  had  not  been  sick,  and  the  general  himself  was  arrested  by 
illness.  At  last  the  tempestuous  weather  drove  him  into  winter 
quarters  at  Cork  with  his  work  half  done.  The  winter  was  one  of 
terrible  anxiety.  The  Parliament  was  showing  less  and  less  inclination 
to  dissolve  itself,  and  was  meeting  the  growing  discontent  by  a  stricter 
censorship  of  the  press,  and  a  fruitless  prosecution  of  John  Lilburne 
English  commerce  was  being  ruined  by  the  piracies  of  Rupert's  fleet, 
wuich  now  anchored  at  Kinsale  to  support  the  royalist  cause  in  Ireland. 


Sr6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


The  energy  of  Vane  indeed  had  already  re-created  a  navy,  squadrons 
of  which  were  being  despatched  into  the  British  seas,  the  Mediterranean, 
and  the  Levant,  and  Colonel  Blake,  who  had  distinguished  himself  by 
his  heroic  defence  of  Taunton  during  the  war,  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  a  fleet  which  drove  Rupert  from  the  Irish  coast,  and  finally  blockaded 
him  in  the  Tagus.  But  even  the  energy  of  Vane  quailed  before  the 
danger  from  the  Scots.  "  One  must  go  and  die  there,"  the  young 
King  cried  at  the  news  of  Ormond's  defeat  before  Dublin,  "  for  it  is 
shameful  for  me  to  live  elsewhere."  But  his  ardour  for  an  Irish  cam- 
paign cooled  as  Cromwell  marched  from  victory  to  victory  ;  and  from 
the  isle  of  Jersey,  which  alone  remained  faithful  to  him  of  all  his 
southern  dominions,  Charles  renewed  the  negotiations  with  Scotland 
which  his  hopes  from  Ireland  had  broken.  They  were  again  delayed  by 
a  proposal  on  the  part  of  Montrose  to  attack  the  very  Government  with 
whom  his  master  was  negotiating  ;  but  the  failure  and  death  of  the 
Marquis  in  the  spring  forced  Charles  to  accept  the  Presbyterian 
conditions.  The  news  of  the  negotiations  filled  the  English  leaders 
with  dismay,  for  Scotland  was  raising  an  army,  and  Fairfax,  while 
willing  to  defend  England  against  a  Scotch  invasion,  scrupled  to  take 
the  lead  in  an  invasion  of  Scotland.  The  Council  recalled  Cromwell 
from  Ireland,  but  his  cooler  head  saw  that  there  was  yet  time  to  finish 
his  work  in  the  west.  During  the  winter  he  had  been  busily  preparing 
for  a  new  campaign,  and  it  was  only  after  the  storm  of  Clonmell, 
and  the  overthrow  of  the  Irish  under  Hugh  O'Neil,  that  he  embarked 
again  for  England. 

Cromwell  entered  London  amidst  the  shouts  of  a  great  multitude ; 
and  a  month  after  Charles  had  landed  on  the  shores  of  Scotland  the 
English  army  started  for  the  north.  It  crossed  the  Tweed,  fifteen 
thousand  men  strong  ;  but  the  terror  of  his  massacres  in  Ireland  hung 
round  its  leader,  the  country  was  deserted  as  he  advanced,  and  he  was 
forced  to  cling  for  provisions  to  a  fleet  which  sailed  along  the  coast. 
David  Leslie,  with  a  larger  force,  refused  battle  and  lay  obstinately 
in  his  lines  between  Edinburgh  and  Lcith.  A  march  of  the  English 
army  round  his  position  to  the  slopes  of  the  Pentlands  only  brought 
about  a  change  of  the  Scottish  front ;  and  as  Cromwell  fell  back  baffleci 
upon  Dunbar,  Leslie  encamped  upon  the  heights  above  the  town,  and 
cut  off  the  English  retreat  along  the  coast  by  the  seizure  of  Cockbums- 
path.  His  post  was  almost  unassailable,  while  the  soldiers  of  Cromwell 
were  sick  and  starving  ;  and  their  general  had  resolved  on  an  cmbarca- 
tion  of  his  forces,  when  he  saw  in  the  dusk  of  evening  signs  of  move- 
ment in  the  Scottish  camp.  Leslie's  caution  had  at  last  been  overpowered 
by  the  zeal  of  the  preachers,  and  his  army  moved  down  to  the  lower 
ground  between  the  hillside  on  which  it  was  encamped  and  a  littl*' 
brook  which  covered  the  English  front  His  horse  was  far  in  advance 
of  the  main  body,  and  it  had  hardly  reached  the  level  ground  wlieu 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


577 


Cromwell  in  the  dim  dawn  flung  his  whole  force  upon  it.  "  They  run  ; 
I  profess  they  run  ! "  he  cried  as  the  Scotch  horse  broke  after  a  des- 
perate resistance,  and  threw  into  confusion  the  foot  who  were  hurrying 
to  its  aid.  Then,  as  the  sun  rose  over  the  mist  of  the  morning,  he 
added  in  nobler  words :  "  Let  God  arise,  and  let  His  enemies  be 
scattered  !  Like  as  the  mist  vanisheth,  so  shalt  Thou  drive  them 
away  !  "  In  less  than  an  hour  the  victory  was  complete.  The  defeat 
^at  once  became  a  rout ;  ten  thousand  prisoners  were  taken,  with  all  the 
baggage  and  guns  ;  three  thousand  were  slain,  with  scarce  any  loss  on 
the  part  of  the  conquerors.  Leslie  reached  Edinburgh,  a  general 
without  an  army.  The  effect  of  Dunbar  was  at  once  seen  in  the  atti- 
tude of  the  Continental  powers.  Spain  hastened  to  recognize  the 
Republic,  and  Holland  offered  its  alliance.  But  Cromwell  was 
watching  with  anxiety  the  growing  discontent  at  home.  The  general 
amnesty  claimed  by  Ireton,  and  the  bill  for  the  Parliament's  dissolu- 
tion, still  hung  on  hand  ;  the  reform  of  the  courts  of  justice,  which 
had  been  pressed  by  the  army,  failed  before  the  obstacles  thrown  in 
its  way  by  the  lawyers  in  the  Commons.  "  Relieve  the  oppressed," 
Cromwell  wrote  from  Dunbar,  "  hear  the  groans  of  poor  prisoners.  Be 
pleased  to  reform  the  abuses  of  all  professions.  If  there  be  any  one 
that  makes  many  poor  to  make  a  few  rich,  that  suits  not  a  Common- 
wealth." But  the  House  was  seeking  to  turn  the  current  of  public 
opinion  in  favour  of  its  own  continuance  by  a  great  diplomatic  triumph. 
It  resolved  secretly  on  the  wild  project  of  bringing  about  a  union 
between  England  and  Holland,  and  it  took  advantage  of  Cromwell's 
victory  to  despatch  Oliver  St.  John  witl;  a  stately  embassy  to  the 
Hague.  His  rejection  of  an  alliance  and  Treaty  of  Commerce 
which  the  Dutch  offered  was  followed  by  the  disclosure  of  the 
English  proposal  of  union,  but  the  proposal  was  at  once  refused. 
The  envoys,  who  returned  angrily  to  the  Parliament,  attributed  their 
failure  to  the  posture  of  affairs  in  Scotland,  where  Charles  was  pre- 
paring for  a  new  campaign.  Humiliation  after  humiliation  had  been 
heaped  on  Charles  since  he  landed  in  his  northern  realm.  He  had 
subscribed  to  the  Covenant ;  he  had  listened  to  sermons  and  scold- 
ings from  the  ministers  ;  he  had  been  called  on  to  sign  a  declaration 
that  acknowledged  the  tyranny  of  his  father  and  the  idolatry  of  his 
mother.  Hardened  and  shameless  as  he  was,  the  young  King  for  a 
moment  recoiled.  "  I  could  never  look  my  mother  in  the  face  again," 
he  cried,  "  after  signing  such  a  paper  ; "  but  he  signed.  He  was  still, 
however,  a  King  only  in  name,  shut  out  from  the  Council  and  the  army, 
with  his  friends  excluded  from  all  part  in  government  or  the  war.  But 
he  was  at  once  freed  by  the  victory  of  Dunbar.  "  I  believe  the  King 
will  set  up  on  his  own  score  now,"  Cromwell  wrote  after  his  victory. 
With  the  overthrow  of  Leslie  fell  the  power  of  Argyle  and  the  narrow 
Presbyterians  whom  he  led.      Hamilton,  the  brother  and  successor  of 

u 


578 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAt». 


the  Duke  who  had  been  captured  at  Preston,  brought  back  vhe 
royalists  to  the  camp,  and  Charles  insisted  on  taking  part  in  zhe 
Council  and  on  being  crowned  at  Scone.  Master  of  Edinburgh,  but 
foiled  in  an  attack  on  Stirling,  Cromwell  waited  through  the  winter 
and  the  long  spring,  while  intestine  feuds  broke  up  the  nation  opposed 
to  him,  and  while  the  stricter  Covenanters  retired  sulkily  from  the 
royal  army  on  the  return  of  the  "  Malignants,"  the  royalists  of  the 
earlier  war,  to  its  ranks.  With  summer  the  campaign  recommenced,, 
but  Leslie  again  fell  back  on  his  system  of  positions,  and  Cromwell, 
finding  the  Scotch  camp  at  Stirling  unassailable,  crossed  into  Fife  and 
left  the  road  open  to  the  south.  The  bait  was  taken.  In  spite  of 
Leslie's  counsels  Charles  resolved  to  invade  England,  and  was  soon  in 
full  march  through  Lancashire  upon  the  Severn,  with  the  English  horse 
under  Lambert  hanging  on  his  rear,  and  the  EngHsh  foot  hastening  by 
York  and  Coventry  to  close  the  road  to  London.  "  We  have  done  to 
the  best  of  our  judgement,"  Cromwell  replied  to  the  angry  alarm  of  the 
Parliament,  "  knowing  that  if  some  issue  were  not  put  to  this  business 
it  would  occasion  another  winter's  war."  At  Coventry  he  learnt 
Charles's  position,  and  swept  round  by  Evesham  upon  Worcester, 
where  the  Scotch  King  was  encamped.  Throwing  half  his  force  across 
the  river,  Cromwell  attacked  the  town  on  both  sides  on  the  anniversary 
of  his  victory  at  Dunbar.  He  led  the  van  in  person,  and  was  "  the  first 
to  set  foot  on  the  enemy's  ground."  When  Charles  descended  from 
the  cathedral  tower  to  fling  himself  on  the  eastern  division,  Cromwell 
hurried  back  across  the  Severn,  and  was  soon  "  riding  in  the  midst  of 
the  fire."  For  four  or  five  hours,  he  told  the  Parliament,  "  it  was  as 
stiff  a  contest  as  ever  I  have  seen  ; "  the  Scots,  outnumbered  and 
beaten  into  the  city,  gave  no  answer  but  shot  to  offers  of  quarter, 
and  it  was  not  till  nightfall  that  all  was  over.  The  loss  of  the  victors 
was  as  usual  inconsiderable.  The  conquered  lost  six  thousand  men, 
and  all  their  baggage  and  artillery.  Leslie  was  among  the  prisoners  : 
Hamilton  among  the  dead.  Charles  himself  fled  from  the  field  ;  and 
after  months  of  wanderings  made  his  escape  to  France. 

"  Now  that  the  King  is  dead  and  his  son  defeated,"  Cromwell  said 
gravely  to  the  Parliament,  "  I  think  it  necessary  to  come  to  a  settle- 
ment." But  the  settlement  which  had  been  promised  after  Naseby  was 
still  as  distant  as  ever  after  Worcester.  The  bill  for  dissolving  the 
present  Parliament,  though  Cromwell  pressed  it  in  person,  was  only 
passed,  after  bitter  opposition,  by  a  majority  of  two  ;  and  even  this 
success  had  been  purchased  by  a  compromise  which  permitted  the 
House  to  sit  for  three  years  more.  Internal  affairs  were  almost  at  a 
dead  lock.  The  Parliament  appointed  committees  to  prepare  plans  for 
legal  reforms,  or  for  ecclesiastical  reforms,  but  it  did  nothing  to  carry 
them  into  effect.  It  was  overpowered  by  the  crowd  of  affairs  which 
the  confusion  of  the  war  had  thrown  itito  its  hands,  by  confiscations^ 


VIII.} 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


579 


sequestrations,  appointments  to  civil  and  military  offices,  in  fact,  the 
whole  administration  of  the  state  ;  and  there  were  times  when  it  was 
driven  to  a  resolve  not  to  take  any  private  affairs  for  weeks  together  in 
order  that  it  might  make  some  progress  with  public  business.  To  add 
to  this  confusion  and  muddle  there  were  the  inevitable  scandals  which 
arose  from  it ;  charges  of  malversation  and  corruption  were  hurled  at 
the  members  of  the  house  ;  and  some,  like  Haselrig,  were  accused  with 
justice  of  using  their  power  to  further  their  own  interests.  The  one 
remedy  for  all  this  was,  as  the  army  saw,  the  assembly  of  a  new  and 
complete  Parliament  in  place  of  the  mere  "  rump  "  of  the  old  ;  but  this 
was  the  one  measure  which  the  House  was  resolute  to  avert.  Vane 
spurred  it  to  a  new  activity.  The  Amnesty  Bill  was  forced  through 
after  fifteen  divisions.  A  Grand  Committee,  with  Sir  Matthew  Hale 
at  its  head,  was  appointed  to  consider  the  reform  of  the  law.  A  union 
with  Scotland  was  pushed  resolutely  forward  ;  eight  English  Com- 
missioners convoked  a  Convention  of  delegates  from  its  counties  and 
boroughs  at  Edinburgh,  and  in  spite  of  dogged  opposition  procured  a 
vote  in  favour  of  the  proposal.  A  bill  was  introduced  which  gave  legal 
form  to  the  union,  and  admitted  representatives  from  Scotland  into  the 
next  Parliament.  A  similar  plan  was  proposed  for  a  union  with 
Ireland.  But  it  was  necessary  for  Vane's  purposes  not  only  to  show 
the  energy  of  the  Parliament,  but  to  free  it  from  the  control  of  the 
army.  His  aim  was  to  raise  in  the  navy  a  force  devoted  to  the  House, 
and  to  eclipse  the  glories  of  Dunbar  and  Worcester  by  yet  greater 
triumphs  at  sea.  With  this  view  the  quarrel  with  Holland  had  been 
carefully  nursed  ;  a  "  Navigation  Act"  prohibiting  the  importation  in 
foreign  ve'^sels  of  any  but  the  products  of  the  countries  to  which  they 
belonged  struck  a  fatal  blow  at  the  carrying  trade  from  which  the  Dutch 
drew  their  wealth  ;  and  fresh  debates  arose  from  the  English  claim  to 
salutes  from  all  vessels  in  the  Channel.  The  two  fleets  met  before 
Dover,  and  a  summons  from  Blake  to  lower  the  Dutch  flag  was  met  by 
the  Dutch  admiral.  Van  Tromp,  with  a  broadside.  The  States- General 
attributed  the  collision  to  accident,  and  offered  to  recall  Van  Tromp  ; 
but  the  English  demands  rose  at  each  step  in  the  negotiations  till  war 
became  inevitable.  The  army  hardly  needed  the  warning  conveyed  by 
the  introduction  of  a  bill  for  its  disbanding  to  understand  the  new 
pohcy  of  the  Parliament.  It  was  significant  that  while  accepting  the 
bill  for  its  own  dissolution  the  House  had  as  yet  prepared  no  plan  for 
the  assembly  which  was  to  follow  it ;  and  the  Dutch  war  had  hardly 
been  declared  when,  abandoning  the  attitude  of  inaction  which  it  had 
observed  since  the  beginning  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  army  petitioned, 
not  only  for  reform  in  Church  and  State,  but  for  an  explicit  declaration 
that  the  House  would  bring  its  proceedings  to  a  close.  The  Petition 
forced  the  House  to  discuss  a  bill  for  "  a  New  Representative,"  but  the 
discussion  soon  brought  out  the  resolve  of  the  sitting  members  to 


S8o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


continue  as  a  part  of  the  coming  Parliament  without  re-election.  The 
ofificers,  irritated  by  such  a  claim,  demanded  in  conference  after  con- 
ference an  immediate  dissolution,  and  the  House  as  resolutely  refused. 
In  ominous  words  Cromwell  supported  the  demand  of  the  army.  "  As 
for  the  members  of  this  Parliament,  the  army  begins  to  take  them  in 
disgust.  I  would  it  did  so  with  less  reason."  There  was  just  ground, 
he  urged,  for  discontent  in  their  selfish  greed  of  houses  and  lands,  the 
scandalous  lives  of  many,  their  partiality  as  judges,  their  interference 
with  the  ordinary  course  of  law  in  matters  of  private  interest,  their 
delay  of  law  reform,  above  all  in  their  manifest  design  of  perpetuating 
their  own  power.  "There  is  little  to  hope  for  from  such  men,"  he 
ended  with  a  return  to  his  predominant  thought,  "for  a  settlement 
of  the  nation." 

For  the  moment  the  crisis  was  averted  by  the  events  of  the  war.  A 
terrible  storm  had  separated  the  two  fleets  when  on  the  point  of  en- 
gaging in  the  Orkneys,  but  Ruyter  and  Blake  met  again  in  the  Channel, 
and  after  a  fierce  struggle  the  Dutch  were  forced  to  retire  under  cover 
of  night.  Since  the  downfall  of  Spain  Holland  had  been  the  first  naval 
power  in  the  world,  and  the  spirit  of  the  nation  rose  gallantly  with  its 
earliest  defeat.  Immense  efforts  were  made  to  strengthen  the  fleet,  and 
the  veteran,  Van  Tromp,  who  was  replaced  at  its  head,  appeared  in  the 
Channel  with  seventy-three  ships  of  war.  Blake  had  but  half  the 
number,  but  he  at  once  accepted  the  challenge,  and  the  unequal 
fight  went  on  doggedly  till  nightfull,  when  the  English  fleet  withdrew 
shattered  into  the  Thames.  Tromp  swept  the  Channel  in  triumph,  with 
a  broom  at  his  masthead  ;  and  the  tone  of  the  Commons  lowered  with 
the  defeat  of  their  favourite  force.  A  compromise  seems  to  have  been 
arranged  between  the  two  parties,  for  the  bill  providing  a  new  Repre- 
sentative was  again  pushed  on,  and  the  Parliament  agreed  to  retire  in 
the  coming  November,  while  Cromwell  offered  no  opposition  to  a  reduc- 
tion of  the  army.  But  the  courage  of  the  House  rose  afresh  with  a 
turn  of  fortune.  The  strenuous  efforts  of  Blake  enabled  him  again  to 
put  to  sea  in  a  few  months  after  his  defeat,  and  a  running  fight  through 
four  days  ended  at  last  in  an  English  victory,  though  Tromp's  fine 
seamanship  enabled  him  to  save  the  convoy  he  was  guarding.  The 
House  at  opce  insisted  on  the  retention  of  its  power.  Not  only  were 
the  existing  members  to  continue  as  members  of  the  new  Parliament 
depriving  the  places  they  represented  of  their  right  of  choosing  re- 
presentatives, but  they  were  to  constitute  a  Committee  of  Revision, 
to  determine  the  validity  of  each  election,  and  the  fitness  of  the 
members  returned.  A  conference  took  place  between  the  leaders  of 
the  Commons  and  the  Officers  of  the  Army,  who  resolutely  demanded 
not  only  the  omission  of  these  clauses,  but  that  the  Parliament 
should  at  once  dissolve  itself,  and  commit  the  new  elections  to  the 
Council   of  State.     "  Our  charge,"   retorted    Haselrig,   "  cannot  be 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


581 


transferred  to  any  one."  The  conference  was  adjourned  till  the  next 
morning,  on  an  understanding  that  no  decisive  step  should  be  taken  : 
but  it  had  no  sooner  re-assembled  than  the  absence  of  the  leading 
members  confirmed  the  news  that  Vane  was  fast  pressing  the  bill  for 
a  new  Representative  through  the  House.  "  It  is  contrary  to  common 
honesty,"  Cromwell  angrily  broke  out ;  and,  quitting  Whitehall,  he 
summoned  a  company  of  musketeers  to  follow  him  as  far  as  the  door 
Df  the  Commons.  He  sate  down  quietly  in  his  place,  "clad  in  plain 
grey  clothes  and  grey  worsted  stockings,"  and  listened  to  Vane's 
passionate  arguments.  "  I  am  come  to  do  what  grieves  me  to  the 
heart,"  he  said  to  his  neighbour,  St.  John  ;  but  he  still  remained 
quiet,  till  Vane  pressed  the  House  to  waive  its  usual  forms  and  pass 
the  bill  at  once.  "  The  time  has  come,"  he  said  to  Harrison.  "  Think 
well,"  replied  Harrison,  "  it  is  a  dangerous  work  ! "  and  Cromwell 
listened  for  another  quarter  of  an  hour.  At  the  question  "  that  this 
Bill  do  pass,"  he  at  length  rose,  and  his  tone  grew  higher  as  he 
repeated  his  former  charges  of  injustice,  self-interest,  and  delay. 
"  Your  hour  is  come,"  he  ended,  "  the  Lord  hath  done  with  you  ! "  A 
crowd  of  members  started  to  their  feet  in  angry  protest.  "  Come, 
come,"  replied  Cromwell,  "  we  have  had  enough  of  this  ;  "  and  striding 
into  the  midst  of  the  chamber,  he  clapt  his  hat  on  his  head,  and 
exclaimed,  "I  will  put  an  end  to  your  prating!"  In  the  din  that 
followed  his  voice  was  heard  in  broken  sentences — "  It  is  not  fit  that 
you  should  sit  here  any  longer  !  You  should  give  place  to  better  men  ! 
You  are  no  Parliament."  Thirty  musketeers  entered  at  a  sign  from 
their  General,  and  the  fifty  members  present  crowded  to  the  door. 
"  Drunkard  ! "  Cromwell  broke  out  as  Wentworth  passed  him  ;  and 
Martin  was  taunted  with  a  yet  coarser  name.  Vane,  fearless  to  the 
last,  told  him  his  act  was  "against  all  right  and  all  honour."  "Ah, 
Sir  Harry  Vane,  Sir  Harry  Vane,"  Cromwell  retorted  in  bitter  indig- 
nation at  the  trick  he  had  been  played,  "  you  might  have  prevented 
all  this,  but  you  are  a  juggler,  and  have  no  common  honesty  !  The 
Lord  deliver  me  from  Sir  Harry  Vane  !  "  The  Speaker  refused  to  quit 
his  seat,  till  Harrison  offered  to  "lend  him  a  hand  to  comedown.'' 
Cromwell  lifted  the  mace  from  the  table.  "What  shall  we  do  with 
this  bauble  ? "  he  said.  "  Take  it  away  !  "  The  door  of  the  House 
was  locked  at  last,  and  the  dispersion  of  the  Parliament  was  followed 
a  few  hours  after  by  that  of  its  executive  committee,  the  Council  of 
State.  Cromwell  himself  summoned  them  to  withdraw.  "  We  have 
heard,"  replied  the  President,  John  Bradshaw,  "  what  you  have  done 
this  morning  at  the  House,  and  in  some  hours  all  England  will  hear 
it.  But  you  mistake,  sir,  if  you  think  the  Parliament  dissolved. 
No  power  on  earth  can  dissolve  the  Farhament  but  itself,  be  sure 
of  that  ! " 


5^2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Section  X.— The  Fall  of  Puritanism.    1653— 1660. 

[Authoriiies. — Many  of  the  works  mentioned  before  are  still  valnable,  but 
the  real  key  to  the  history  of  this  period  lies  in  Cromwell's  remarkable  series  of 
Speeches  (Carlyle,  "  Letters  and  Speeches,"  vol.  iii.).  Thurlow's  State  Papers 
furnish  an  immense  mass  of  documents.  For  the  Second  Parliament  of  the  Pro- 
tector we  have  Burton's  "  Diarv."  For  the  Restoration,  M.  Guizot's  "  Richard 
Cromwell  and  the  Restoration,  Ludlow's  **  Memoirs,"  Baxter's  "Autobio- 
graphy," and  the  minute  and  accurate  account  given  by  Clarendon  himself.] 

The  dispersion  of  the  Parliament  and  of  the  Council  of  State  left 
England  without  a  government,  for  the  authority  of  every  official 
ended  with  that  of  the  body  from  which  his  power  was  derived.  Crom- 
well, in  fact,  as  Captain- General  of  the  forces,  was  forced  to  recognize 
his  responsibility  for  the  maintenance  of  public  order.  But  no  thought 
of  military  despotism  can  be  fairly  traced  in  the  acts  of  the  general 
or  the  army.  They  were  in  fact  far  from  regarding  their  position  as  a 
revolutionary  one.  Though  incapable  of  justification  on  any  formal 
ground,  their  proceedings  since  the  establishment  of  the  Commonwealth 
had  as  yet  been  substantially  in  vindication  of  the  rights  of  the  country 
to  representation  and  self-government ;  and  public  opinion  had  gone 
fairly  with  the  army  in  its  demand  for  a  full  and  efficient  body  of  repre- 
sentatives, as  well  as  in  its  resistance  to  the  project  by  which  the  Rump 
would  have  deprived  half  England  of  its  right  of  election.  It  was 
only  when  no  other  means  existed  of  preventing  such  a  wrong  that  the 
soldiers  had  driven  out  the  wrongdoers.  "  It  is  you  that  have  forced 
me  to  this,"  Cromwell  exclaimed,  as  he  drove  the  members  from  the 
House  ;  "  I  have  sought  the  Lord  night  and  day  that  He  would  rather 
slay  me  than  put  me  upon  the  doing  of  this  work."  The  act  was  one 
of  violence  to  the  members  of  the  House,  but  the  act  which  it  aimed 
at  preventing  was  one  of  violence  on  their  part  to  the  constitutional 
rights  of  the  whole  nation.  The  people  had  in  fact  been  "  dissatisfied 
in  every  corner  of  the  realm  "at  the  state  of  public  affairs:  and  the 
expulsion  of  the  members  was  ratified  by  a  general  assent.  "  We 
did  not  hear  a  dog  bark  at  their  going,"  the  Protector  said  years  after- 
wards. Whatever  anxiety  may  have  been  felt  at  the  use  which  was  like 
to  be  made  of  "  the  power  of  the  sword,"  was  in  great  part  dispelled  by 
a  proclamation  of  the  officers.  Their  one  anxiety  was  "  not  to  grasp 
the  power  ourselves  nor  to  keep  it  in  military  hands,  no  not  for  a  day," 
and  their  promise  to  "  call  to  the  government  men  of  approved  fidelity 
and  honesty"  was  to  some  extent  redeemed  by  the  nomination  of  a 
provisional  Council  of  State,  consisting  of  eight  officers  of  high  rank 
and  four  civilians,  with  Cromwell  as  their  head,  and  a  seal  in  which  was 
offered,  though  fruitlessly,  to  Vane.  The  first  business  of  such  a  bodv 
was  clearly  to  summon  a  new  Parliament  and  to  resign  its  trust  into  its 
hands  :  but  the  bill  for  Parliamentary  reform  had  dropped  with  the  ex- 
pulsion :  and  reluctant  as  the  Council  was  to  summon  a  new  Parliament 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


583 


on  the  old  basis  of  election,  it  shrank  from  the  responsibility  of  effecting 
so  fundamental  a  change  as  the  creation  of  a  new  basis  by  its  own 
authority.  It  was  this  difficulty  which  led  to  the  expedient  of  a  Con- 
stituent Convention.  Cromwell  told  the  story  of  this  unlucky  assembly 
some  years  after  with  an  amusing  frankness.  "  I  will  come  and  tell 
you  a  story  of  my  own  weakness  and  folly.  And  yet  it  was  done  in  my 
simplicity — I  dare  avow  it  was.  ...  It  was  thought  then  that  men  of 
our  own  judgment,  Who  had  fought  in  the  wars,  and  were  all  of  a  piece 
on  that  account — why,  surely,  these  men  will  hit  it,  and  these  men 
will  do  it  to  the  purpose,  whatever  can  be  desired !  And  surely  we 
did  think,  and  I  did  think  so — the  more  blame  to  me  ! "  Of  the 
hundred  and  fifty-six  men,  "  faithful,  fearing  God,  and  hating  covetous- 
ness,"  whose  names  were  selected  for  this  purpose  by  the  Council  of 
State,  from  lists  furnished  by  the  congregational  churches,  the  bulk 
were  men,  like  Ashley  Cooper,  of  good  blood  and  "  free  estates  ; "  and 
the  proportion  of  burgesses,  such  as  the  leather-merchant,  Praise-God 
Barebones,  whose  name  was  eagerly  seized  on  as  a  nickname  for  the 
body  to  which  he  belonged,  seems  to  have  been  much  the  same  as  in 
earlier  Parliaments.  But  the  circumstances  of  their  choice  told  fatally 
on  the  temper  of  its  members.  Cromwell  himself,  in  the  burst  of 
rugged  eloquence  with  which  he  welcomed  their  assembling,  was 
carried  away  by  a  strange  enthusiasm.  "  Convince  the  nation,"  he 
said,  "  that  as  men  fearing  God  have  fought  them  out  of  their  bondage 
under  the  regal  power,  so  men  fearing  God  do  now  rule  them  in  the 
fear  of  God.  .  .  .  Own  your  call,  for  it  is  of  God:  indeed,  it  is 
marvellous,  and  it  hath  been  unprojected.  .  .  .  Never  was  a  supreme 
power  under  such  a  way  of  owning  God,  and  being  owned  by  Him." 
A  spirit  yet  more  enthusiastic  appeared  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
Convention  itself.  The  resignation  of  their  powers  by  Cromwell  and 
the  Council  into  its  hands  left  it  the  one  supreme  authority ;  but  by 
the  instrument  which  convoked  it  provision  had  been  made  that  this 
authority  should  be  transferred  in  fifteen  months  to  another  assembly 
elected  according  to  its  directions.  Its  work  was,  in  fact,  to  be  that 
of  a  constituent  assembly,  paving  the  way  for  a  Parliament  oh  a  really 
national  basis.  But  the  Convention  put  the  largest  construction  on  its 
commission,  and  boldly  undertook  the  whole  task  of  constitutional 
reform.  Committees  were  appointed  to  consider  the  needs  of  the 
Church  and  the  nation.  The  spirit  of  economy  and  honesty  which 
pervaded  the  assembly  appeared  in  its  redress  of  the  extravagance 
which  prevailed  in  the  civil  service,  and  of  the  inequality  of  taxation. 
With  a  remarkable  energy  it  undertook  a  host  of  reforms,  for  whose 
execution  England  has  had  to  wait  to  our  own  day.  The  Long 
Parliament  had  shrunk  from  any  reform  of  the  Court  of  Chancery, 
where  twenty-three  thousand  cases  were  waiting  unheard.  The 
Convention  proposed  its  abohtion.     The  work  of  compiling  a  single 


584 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


code  of  laws,  begun  under  the  Long  Parliament  by  a  committee  with 
Sir  Matthew  Hale  at  its  head,  was  again  pushed  forward.  The 
frenzied  alarm  which  these  bold  measures  aroused  among  the  lawyer 
class  was  soon  backed  by  that  of  the  clergy,  who  saw  their  wealth 
menaced  by  the  establishment  of  civil  marriage,  and  by  proposals  to 
substitute  the  free  contributions  of  congregations  for  the  payment  of 
tithes.  The  landed  proprietors  too  rose  against  the  scheme  for  the 
abolition  of  lay-patronage,  which  was  favoured  by  the  Convention,  and 
predicted  an  age  of  confiscation.  The  "  Barebones  Parliament,"  as 
the  assembly  was  styled  in  derision,  was  charged  with  a  design  to  ruin 
property,  the  Church,  and  the  law,  with  enmity  to  knowledge,  and  a 
blind  and  ignorant  fanaticism.  Cromwell  himself  shared  the  general 
uneasiness  at  its  proceedings.  His  mind  was  that  of  an  adminis- 
trator, rather  than  that  of  a  statesman,  unspeculative,  deficient  in 
foresight,  conservative,  and  eminently  practical.  He  saw  the  need  of 
administrative  reform  in  Church  and  State  ;  but  he  had  no  sympathy 
whatever  with  the  revolutionary  theories  which  were  filling  the  air 
around  him.  His  desire  was  for  "a  settlement"  which  should  be 
accompanied  with  as  little  disturbance  of  the  old  state  of  things  as 
possible.  If  Monarchy  had  vanished  in  the  turmoil  of  war,  his 
experience  of  the  Long  Parliament  only  confirmed  him  in  his  belief  of 
the  need  of  establishing  an  executive  power  of  a  similar  kind,  apart 
from  the  power  of  the  legislature,  as  a  condition  of  civil  liberty.  His 
sword  had  won  "  liberty  of  conscience  ;  "  but  passionately  as  he  clung 
to  it,  he  was  still  for  an  established  Church,  for  a  parochial  system,  and 
a  ministry  maintained  by  tithes.  His  social  tendencies  were  simply 
those  of  the  class  to  which  he  belonged.  "  I  was  by  birth  a  gentle- 
man," he  told  a  later  Parliament,  and  in  the  old  social  arrangement  of 
'*a  nobleman,  a  gentleman,  a  yeoman,"  he  saw  "a  good  interest  of 
the  nation  and  a  great  one."  He  hated  "that  levelling  principle" 
which  tended  to  the  reducing  of  all  to  one  equality.  "  What  was  the 
purport  of  it,"  he  asks  with  an  amusing  simplicity,  "  but  to  make  the 
tenant  as  liberal  a  fortune  as  the  landlord  ?  Which,  I  think,  if  obtained, 
would  not  have  lasted  long.  The  men  of  that  principle,  after  they  had 
served  their  own  turns,  would  then  have  cried  up  property  and  interest 
fast  enough." 

To  a  practical  temper  such  as  this  the  speculative  refomis  of  the 
Convention  were  as  distasteful  as  to  the  lawyers  and  clergy  whom 
they  attacked.  "  Nothing,"  said  Cromwell,  "  was  in  the  hearts  of  these 
men  but  *  overturn,  overturn.'  "  But  he  was  delivered  from  his  em- 
barrassment by  the  internal  dissensions  of  the  Asse:nbly  itself.  The 
day  after  the  decision  against  tithes  the  more  conservative  members 
snatched  a  vote  by  surprise  "  that  the  sitting  of  this  Parliament  any 
longer,  as  now  constituted,  will  not  be  for  the  good  of  the  Common- 
wealth, and  that  it  is  requisite  to  deliver  up  unto  the  Lord- General  the 


vrii.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


58s 


powers  we  received  from  him."  The  Speaker  placed  their  abdication 
in  Cromwell's  hands,  and  the  act  was  confirmed  by  the  subsequent 
adhesion  of  a  majority  of  the  members.  The  dissolution  of  the  Con- 
vention replaced  matters  in  the  state  in  which  its  assembly  had  found 
them  ;  but  there  was  still  the  same  general  anxiety  to  substitute  some 
sort  of  legal  rule  for  the  power  of  the  sword.  The  Convention  had 
named  during  its  session  a  fresh  Council  of  State,  and  this  body  at 
once  drew  up,  under  the  name  of  the  Instrument  of  Government,  a 
remarkable  Constitution,  which  was  adopted  by  the  Council  of  Officers. 
They  were  driven  by  necessity  to  the  step  from  which  they  had  shrunk 
before,  that  of  convening  a  Parliament  on  the  reformed  basis  of  repre- 
sentation, though  such  a  basis  had  no  legal  sanction.  The  House  was 
to  consist  of  four  hundred  members  from  England,  thirty  from  Scot- 
land, and  thirty  from  Ireland.  The  seats  hitherto  assigned  fo  small 
and  rotten  boroughs  were  transferred  to  larger  constituencies,  and  for 
the  most  part  to  counties.  All  special  rights  of  voting  in  the  election 
of  members  were  abolished,  and  replaced  by  a  general  right  of  suffrage, 
based  on  the  possession  of  real  or  personal  property  to  the  value  of 
two  hundred  pounds.  Catholics  and  "  Malignants,"  as  those  who  had 
fought  for  the  King  were  called,  were  excluded  for  the  while  from  the 
franchise.  Constitutionally,  all  further  organization  of  the  form  of 
government  should  have  been  left  to  this  Assembly  ;  but  the  dread  of 
disorder  during  the  interval  of  its  election,  as  well  as  a  longing  for 
"  settlement,"  drove  the  Council  to  complete  their  work  by  pressing 
the  office  of  "  Protector"'  upon  Cromwell.  "  They  told  me  that  except 
I  would  undertake  the  government  they  thought  things  would  hardly 
come  to  a  composure  or  settlement,  but  blood  and  confusion  would 
break  in  as  before."  If  we  follow  however  his  own  statement,  it 
was  when  they  urged  that  the  acceptance  of  such  a  Protectorate 
actually  limited  his  power  as  Lord-General,  and  "bound  his  hands 
to  act  nothing  without  the  consent  of  a  Council  until  the  Parliament," 
that  the  post  was  accepted.  The  powers  of  the  new  Protector  indeed 
were  strictly  limited.  Though  the  members  of  the  Council  were 
originally  named  by  him,  each  member  was  irremovable  save  by 
consent  of  the  rest :  their  advice  was  necessary  in  all  foreign  affairs, 
their  consent  in  matters  of  peace  and  war,  their  approval  in  nomina- 
tions to  the  great  offices  of  state,  or  the  disposal  of  the  military 
or  civil  power.  With  this  body  too  lay  the  choice  of  all  future 
Protectors.  To  the  administrative  check  of  the  Council  was  added 
the  political  check  of  the  Parliament.  Three  years  at  the  most  were  to 
elapse  between  the  assembling  of  one  Parliament  and  another.  Laws 
could  not  be  made,  nor  taxes  imposed  but  by  its  authority,  and  after 
the  lapse  of  twenty  days  the  statutes  it  passed  became  laws  even  if 
the  Protector's  assent  was  refused  to  them.  The  new  Constitution  was 
undoubtedly  popular ;  and  the  promise  of  a  real  Parliament  in  a  few 

U* 


Skc.  X. 

The 

Fall  of 
Puritanism 

1653 

no 
1660 


The  rnttni- 

ntent  of 
Govemnttnt 


586 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


months  covered  the  want  of  any  legal  character  in  the  new  rule.  The 
Government  was  generally  accepted  as  a  provisiona4  one,  which  could 
only  acquire  legal  authority  from  the  ratification  of  its  acts  in  the 
coming  session  ;  and  the  desire  to  settle  it  on  such  a  Parliamentary 
basis  was  universal  among  the  members  of  the  new  Assembly  which 
met  in  the  autumn  at  Westminster. 

Few  Parliaments  have  ever  been  more  memorable,  or  more  truly 
representative  of  the  English  people,  than  the  Parliament  of  1654. 
It  was  the  first  Parliament  in  our  history  where  members  from  Scot- 
land and  Ireland  sate  side  by  side  with  those  from  England,  as  they 
sit  in  the  Parliament  of  to-day.  The  members  for  rotten  boroughs 
and  pocket-boroughs  had  disappeared.  In  spite  of  the  exclusion  of 
royalists  and  Catholics  from  the  polling-booths,  and  the  arbitrary 
erasure  of  the  names  of  a  few  ultra-republican  members  by  the 
Council,  the  House  had  a  better  title  to  the  name  of  a  "free  Parlia- 
ment "  than  any  which  had  sat  before.  The  freedom  with  which  the 
electors  had  exercized  their  right  of  voting  was  seen  indeed  in  the 
large  number  of  Presbyterian  members  who  were  returned,  and  in  the 
reappearance  of  Haselrig  and  Bradshaw,  with  many  members  of  the 
Long  Parliament,  side  by  side  with  Lord  Herbert  and  the  older  Sir 
Harry  Vane.  The  first  business  of  the  House  was  clearly  to  consider 
the  question  of  government ;  and  Haselrig,  with  the  fiercer  republicans, 
at  once  denied  the  legal  existence  of  either  Council  or  Protector,  on 
the  ground  that  the  Long  Parliament  had  never  been  dissolved.  Such 
an  argument,  however,  told  as  much  against  the  Parliament  in  which 
they  sate  as  against  the  administration  itself,  and  the  bulk  of  the 
Assembly  contented  themselves  with  declining  to  recognize  the  Con- 
stitution or  Protectorate  as  of  more  than  provisional  validity.  They 
proceeded  at  once  to  settle  the  government  on  a  Parliamentary  basis. 
The  "  Instrument"  vas  taken  as  the  groundwork  of  the  new  Consti- 
tution, and  carried  clause  by  clause.  That  Cromwell  should  retain 
his  rule  as  Protector  was  unanimously  agreed  ;  that  he  should  possess 
the  right  of  veto  or  a  co-ordinate  legislative  power  with  the  Parliament 
was  hotly  debated,  though  the  violent  language  of  Haselrig  did  little  to 
disturb  the  general  tone  of  moderation.  Suddenly,  however,  Cromwcl) 
interposed.  If  he  had  undertaken  the  duties  of  Protector  with  reluct- 
ance, he  looked  on  all  legal  defects  in  his  title  as  more  than  supplied 
by  the  consent  of  the  nation.  "  I  called  not  myself  to  this  place,"  he 
urged, "  God  and  the  people  of  these  kingdoms  have  borne  testimony  to 
it."  His  rule  had  been  accepted  by  London,  by  the  army,  by  the  solemn 
decision  of  the  judges,  by  addresses  from  every  shire,  by  the  very 
appearance  of  the  members  of  the  Parliament  in  answer  to  his  writ 
"  Why  may  I  not  balance  this  Providence,"  he  asked,  "with  any  heredi- 
tary interest  ?  "  In  this  national  approval  he  saw  a  call  from  God,  a  Di- 
vine Right  of  a  higher  order  than  that  of  the  kings  who  had  gone  before. 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


5«7 


But  there  was  another  ground  for  the  anxiety  with  which  he  watched 
the  proceedings  of  the  Commons.  His  passion  for  administration 
had  far  overstepped  the  bounds  of  a  merely  provisional  rule  in  the 
interval  before  the  assembling  of  the  Parliament.  His  desire  for 
"  settlement "  had  been  strengthened  not  only  by  the  drift  of  public 
opinion,  but  by  the  urgent  need  of  every  day ;  and  the  power  reserved 
by  the  "Instrument"  to  issue  temporary  ordinances  "until  further 
order  in  such  matters,  to  be  taken  by  the  Parliament,"  gave  a  scope 
to  his  marvellous  activity  of  which  he  at  once  took  advantage.  Sixty- 
four  Ordinances  had  been  issued  in  the  nine  months  before  the 
meeting  of  the  Parliament.  Peace  had  been  concluded  with  Holland. 
The  Church  had  been  set  in  order.  The  law  itself  had  been  minutely 
regulated.  The  union  with  Scotland  had  been  brought  to  completion. 
So  far  was  Cromwell  from  dreaming  that  these  measures,  or  the 
authority  which  enacted  them,  would  be  questioned,  that  he  looked 
to  Parliament  simply  to  complete  his  work.  "  The  great  end  of  your 
meeting,"  he  said  at  the  first  assembly  of  its  members,  "  is  healing 
and  settling."  Though  he  had  himself  done  much,  he  added,  "  there 
was  still  much  to  be  done."  Peace  had  to  be  made  with  Portugal,  and 
alliance  with  Spain.  Bills  were  laid  before  the  House  for  the  codifica- 
tion of  the  law.  The  plantation  and  settlement  of  Ireland  had  still  to 
be  completed.  He  resented  the  setting  these  projects  aside  for  con- 
stitutional questions  which,  as  he  held,  a  Divine  call  had  decided,  but 
he  resented  yet  more  the  renewed  claim  advanced  by  Parliament  to 
the  sole  power  of  legislation.  As  we  have  seen,  his  experience  of  the 
evils  which  had  arisen  from  the  concentration  of  legislative  and 
executive  power  in  the  Long  Parliament  had  convinced  Cromwell  of 
the  danger  to  public  liberty  which  lay  in  such  a  union.  He  saw  in 
the  joint  government  of  "  a  single  person  and  a  Parliament"  the  only 
assurance  "  that  Parliaments  should  not  make  themselves  perpetual," 
or  that  their  power  should  not  be  perverted  to  public  wrong.  But 
whatever  strength  there  may  have  been  in  the  Protector's  arguments, 
the  act  by  which  he  proceeded  to  enforce  them  was  fatal  to  liberty, 
and  in  the  end  to  Puritanism.  "  If  my  calling  be  from  God,"  he 
ended,  "  and  my  testimony  from  the  People,  God  and  the  People 
shall  take  it  from  me,  else  I  will  not  part  from  it."  And  he  announced 
that  no  member  would  be  suffered  to  enter  the  House  without  signing 
an  engagement  "not  to  alter  the  Government  as  it  is  settled  in  a 
single  person  and  a  Parliament."  No  act  of  the  Stuarts  had  been 
ft  bolder  defiance  of  constitutional  law  ;  and  the  act  was  as  needless 
as  it  was  illegal.  One  hundred  members  alone  refused  to  take  the 
engagement,  and  the  signatures  of  three-fourths  of  the  House  proved 
that  the  security  Cromwell  desired  might  have  been  easily  procured 
by  a  vote  of  Parliament.  But  those  who  remained  resumed  their 
constitutional  task  with  unbroken  firmness.      They  quietly  asserted 


588 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


their  sole  title  to  government  by  referring  the  Protector's  Ordinances 
to  Committees  for  revision,  and  for  conversion  into  laws.  The 
"Instrument  of  Government"  was  turned  into  a  bill,  debated,  and 
after  some  modifications  read  a  third  time.  Money  votes,  as  in 
previous  Parliaments,  were  deferred  till  "grievances"  had  been  settled, 
iiut  Cromwell  once  more  intervened.  The  royalists  were  astir  again  : 
and  he  attributed  their  renewed  hopes  to  the  hostile  attitude  which 
he  ascribed  to  the  Parliament.  The  army,  which  remained  unpaid 
while  the  suppHes  were  delayed,  was  seething  with  discontent.  "  It 
looks,"  said  the  Protector,  "  as  if  the  laying  grounds  for  a  quarrel 
had  rather  been  designed  than  to  give  the  people  settlement.  Judge 
yourselves  whether  the  contesting  of  things  that  were  provided  for  by 
this  government  hath  been  profitable  expense  of  time  for  the  good  of 
this  nation."  In  words  of  angry  reproach  he  declared  the  Parliament 
dissolved. 

With  the  dissolution  of  the  Parliament  of  1654  ended  all  show  ot 
constitutional  rule.  The  Protectorate,  deprived  by  its  own  act  of  all 
chance  of  legal  sanction,  became  a  simple  tyranny.  Cromwell  pro- 
fessed, indeed,  to  be  restrained  by  the  "  Instrument " :  but  the  one 
great  restraint  on  his  power  which  the  Instrument  provided,  the  inability 
to  levy  taxes  save  by  consent  of  Parliament,  was  set  aside  on  the  plea 
of  necessity.  "  The  People,"  said  the  Protector  in  words  which  Strafford 
might  have  uttered,  "  will  prefer  their  real  security  to  forms."  That  a 
danger  of  royalist  revolt  existed  was  undeniable,  but  the  danger  was 
at  once  doubled  by  the  generr.l  discontent.  From  this  moment,  White- 
lock  tells  us,  "many  sober  and  noble  patriots,"  in  despair  of  public 
liberty,  "  did  begin  to  incline  to  the  King's  restoration."  In  the  mass 
of  the  population  the  reaction  was  far  more  rapid.  "  Charles  Stuart," 
writes  a  Cheshire  correspondent  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  "hath  five 
hundred  friends  in  these  adjacent  counties  for  every  one  friend  to  you 
among  them."  But  before  the  overpowering  strength  of  the  army  even 
this  general  discontent  was  powerless.  Yorkshire,  where  the  royalist 
insurrection  was  expected  to  be  most  formidable,  never  ventured  to 
rise  at  all.  There  were  risings  in  Devon,  Dorset,  and  the  Welsh 
Marches,  but  they  were  quickly  put  down,  and  their  leaders  brought  to 
the  scaffold.  Easily  however  as  the  revolt  was  suppressed,  the  terroi 
of  the  Government  was  seen  in  the  energetic  measures  to  which 
Cromwell  resorted  in  the  hope  of  securing  order.  The  country  was 
divided  into  ten  military  governments,  each  with  a  major-general  at 
its  head,  who  was  empowered  to  disarm  all  Papists  and  royalists,  and 
to  arrest  suspected  persons.  Funds  for  the  supports  of  this  military 
despotism  were  provided  by  an  Ordinance  of  the  Council  of  State, 
which  enacted  that  all  who  had  at  any  time  borne  arms  for  the  King 
should  pay  every  year  a  tenth  part  of  their  income,  in  spite  of  the  Act 
of  Oblivion,  as  a  fine  for  their  royalist  tendencies.     The  desDOtism 


VIII. 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


589 


of  the  major-generals  was  seconded  by  the  older  expedients  of  tyranny. 
The  ejected  clergy  had  been  zealous  in  promoting  the  insurrection, 
and  they  were  forbidden  in  revenge  to  act  as  chaplains  or  as  tutors. 
The  press  was  placed  under  a  strict  censorship.  The  payment  of  taxes 
levied  by  the  sole  authority  of  the  Protector  was  enforced  by  distraint  ; 
and  when  a  collector  was  sued  in  the  courts  for  redress,  the  counsel 
for  the  prosecution  were  sent  to  the  Tower. 

If  pardon,  indeed,  could  ever  be  won  for  a  tyranny,  the  wisdom 
and  grandeur  with  which  he  used  the  power  he  had  usurped  would 
win  pardon  for  the  Protector.  The  greatest  among  the  many  great 
enterprises  undertaken  by  the  Lord  Parliament  had  been  the  Union 
of  the  three  Kingdoms  :  and  that  of  Scotland  with  England  had 
been  brought  about,  at  the  very  end  of  its  career,  by  the  tact  and 
vigour  of  Sir  Harry  Vane.  But  its  practical  realization  was  left  to 
Cromwell.  In  four  months  of  hard  fighting  General  Monk  brought 
the  Highlands  to  a  new  tranquilHty  ;  and  the  presence  of  an  army 
of  eight  thousand  men,  backed  by  a  line  of  forts,  kept  the  most 
restless  of  the  clans  in  good  order.  The  settlement  of  the  country 
was  brought  about  by  the  temperance  and  sagacity  of  Monk's  successor, 
General  Deane.  No  further  interference  with  the  Presbyterian  system 
was  attempted  beyond  the  suppression  of  the  General  Assembly.  But 
religious  liberty  was  resolutely  protected,  and  Deane  ventured  even 
to  interfere  on  behalf  of  the  miserable  victims  whom  Scotch  bigotry 
was  torturing  and  burning  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft.  Even  steady 
royalists  acknowledged  the  justice  of  the  Government  and  the  wonder- 
ful discipline  of  its  troops.  "  We  always  reckon  those  eight  years 
of  the  usurpation,"  said  Burnet  afterwards,  "a  time  of  great  peace 
and  prosperity."  Sterner  work  had  to  be  done  before  Ireland  could 
be  brought  into  real  union  with  its  sister  kingdoms.  The  work  of 
conquest  had  been  continued  by  Ireton,  and  completed  after  his 
death  by  General  Ludlow,  as  mercilessly  as  it  had  begun.  Thousands 
perished  by  famine  or  the  sword.  Shipload  after  shipload  of  those 
who  surrendered  were  sent  over  sea  for  sale  into  forced  labour 
in  Jam:iica  and  the  West  Indies.  More  than  forty  thousand  of  the 
beaten  Catholics  were  permitted  to  enlist  for  foreign  service,  and 
found  a  refuge  in  exile  under  the  banners  of  France  and  Spain. 
The  work  of  settlement,  which  was  undertaken  by  Henry  Cromwell, 
the  younger  and  abler  of  the  Protector's  sons,  turned  out  to  be 
even  more  terrible  than  the  work  of  the  sword.  It  took  as  its 
model  the  Colonization  of  Ulster,  the  fatal  measure  which  had 
destroyed  all  hope  of  a  united  Ireland  and  had  brought  inevitably 
in  its  train  the  revolt  and  the  war.  The  people  were  divided  into 
classes  in  the  order  of  their  assumed  guilt.  AH  who  after  fair  trial 
were  proved  to  have  personally  taken  part  in  the  massacre  were 
sentenced  to  banishment  or  death.     The  general  amnesty  which  freed 


590 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


"those  of  the  meaner  sort"  from  all  question  on  other  scores  was 
far  from  extending  to  the  landowners.  Catholic  proprietors  who  had 
shown  no  goodwill  to  the  Parliament,  even  though  they  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  war,  were  punished  by  the  forfeiture  of  a  third  of  their 
estates.  All  who  had  borne  arms  were  held  to  have  forfeited  the  whole, 
and  driven  into  Connaught,  where  fresh  estates  v/ere  carved  out  for 
them  from  the  lands  of  the  native  clans.  No  such  doom  had  ever 
fallen  on  a  nation  in  modern  times  as  fell  upon  Ireland  in  its  new 
settlement.  Among  the  bitter  memories  which  part  Ireland  from 
England  the  memory  of  the  bloodshed  and  confiscation  which  the 
Puritans  wrought  remains  the  bitterest ;  and  the  worst  curse  an  Irish 
peasant  can  hurl  at  his  enemy  is  "  the  curse  of  Cromwell."  But 
pitiless  as  the  Protector's  policy  was,  it  was  successful  in  the  ends  at 
which  it  aimed.  The  whole  native  population  lay  helpless  and  crushed. 
Peace  and  order  were  restored,  and  a  large  incoming  of  Protestant 
settlers  from  England  and  Scotland  brought  a  new  prosperity  to  the 
wasted  country.  Above  all,  the  legislative  union  which  had  been 
brought  about  with  Scotland  was  now  carried  out  with  Ireland,  and 
thirty  seats  were  allotted  to  its  representatives  in  the  general  Parliament. 
In  England  Cromwell  dealt  with  the  royalists  as  irreconcilable 
enemies  ;  but  in  every  other  respect  he  carried  fairly  out  his  pledge  of 
"  healing  and  settling."  The  series  of  administrative  reforms  plannec 
by  the  Convention  had  been  partially  carried  into  effect  before  the  meet- 
ing of  Parliament  in  1 654 ;  but  the  work  was  pushed  on  after  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  House  with  yet  greater  energy.  Nearly  a  hundred  ordinances 
showed  the  industry  of  the  Government.  Police,  public  amusements, 
roads,  finances,  the  condition  of  prisons,  the  imprisonment  of  debtors, 
were  a  few  among  the  subjects  which  claimed  Cromwell's  attention. 
An  ordinance  of  more  than  fifty  clauses  reformed  the  Court  of 
Chancery.  The  anarchy  which  had  reigned  in  the  Church  since 
the  break-down  of  Episcopacy  and  the  failure  of  the  Presbyterian 
system  to  supply  its  place,  was  put  an  end  to  by  a  series  of  wise  and 
temperate  measures  for  its  reorganization.  Rights  of  patronage  were 
left  untouched  ;  but  a  Board  of  Triers,  a  fourth  of  whom  were  laymen, 
was  appointed  to  examine  the  fitness  of  ministers  presented  to  livings  ; 
and  a  Church  board  of  gentry  and  clergy  was  set  up  in  every  county 
to  exercise  a  supervision  over  ecclesiastical  affairs,  and  to  detect  and 
remove  scandalous  and  ineffectual  ministers.  Even  by  the  confession 
of  Cromwell's  opponents,  the  plan  worked  well.  It  furnished  the 
country  with  "  able,  serious  preachers,"  Baxter  tells  us,  "  who  lived  a 
godly  life,  of  what  tolerable  opinion  soever  they  were,"  and,  as  both 
Presbyterian  and  Independent  ministers  were  presented  to  livings  at 
the  will  of  their  patrons,  it  solved  so  far  as  practical  working  was  con- 
cerned the  problem  of  a  religious  union  among  the  Puritans  on  the  base 
of  a  wide  variety  of  Christian  opinion.     From  the  Church  which  waf 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


591 


thus  reorganized  all  power  of  interference  with  faiths  differing  from  its 
own  was  resolutely  withheld.  Save  in  his  dealings  with  the  Episco- 
palians, whom  he  looked  on  as  a  pohtical  danger,  Cromwell  remained 
true  throughout  to  the  cause  of  religious  liberty.  Even  the  Quaker, 
rejected  by  all  other  Christian  bodies  as  an  anarchist  and  blasphemer, 
found  sympathy  and  protection  in  the  Protector.  The  Jews  had  been 
excluded  from  England  since  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First ;  and  a 
prayer  which  they  now  presented  for  leave  to  return  was  refused  by 
the  commission  of  merchants  and  divines  to  whom  the  Protector 
referred  it  for  consideration.  But  the  refusal  was  quietly  passed  over, 
and  the  connivance  of  Cromwell  in  the  settlement  of  a  few  Hebrews  in 
London  and  Oxford  was  so  clearly  understood  that  no  one  ventured 
to  interfere  with  them. 

No  part  of  his  policy  is  more  characteristic  of  Cromwell's  mind, 
whether  in  its  strength  or  in  its  weakness,  than  his  management  of 
foreign  affairs.  While  England  had  been  absorbed  in  her  long  and  ob- 
stinate struggle  for  freedom  the  whole  face  of  the  world  around  her  had 
changed.  The  Thirty  Years'  War  was  over.  The  victories  of  Gustavus, 
and  of  the  Swedish  generals  who  followed  him,  had  been  seconded  by 
the  policy  of  Richelieu  and  the  intervention  of  France.  Protestantism 
in  Germany  was  no  longer  in  peril  from  the  bigotry  or  ambition  of  the 
House  of  Austria  :  and  the  Treaty  of  Westphalia  had  drawn  a 
permanent  line  between  the  territories  belonging  to  the  adherents  of 
the  old  religion  and  the  new.  There  was  little  danger,  indeed,  now 
to  Europe  from  the  great  Catholic  House  which  had  threatened  its 
freedom  ever  since  Charles  the  Fifth.  Its  Austrian  branch  was  called 
away  from  dreams  of  aggression  in  the  west  to  a  desperate  struggle 
with  the  Turk  for  the  possession  of  Hungary  and  the  security  of  Austria 
itself.  Spain  was  falling  into  a  state  of  strange  decrepitude.  So  far 
from  aiming  to  be  mistress  of  Europe,  she  was  rapidly  sinking  into 
the  almost  helpless  prey  of  France.  It  was  France  which  had  now 
become  the  dominant  power  in  Christendom,  though  her  position  was 
far  from  being  as  commanding  as  it  was  to  become  under  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth.  The  peace  and  order  which  prevailed  after  the  cessation 
of  the  religious  troubles  throughout  her  compact  and  fertile  territory 
gave  scope  at  last  to  the  quick  and  industrious  temper  of  the  French 
people  ;  while  her  wealth  and  energy  were  placed  by  the  centralizing 
administration  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  of  Richelieu,  and  of  Mazarin, 
almost  absolutely  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown.  Under  the  three  great 
rulers  who  have  just  been  named  her  ambition  was  steadily  directed  to 
the  same  purpose  of  territorial  aggrandizement,  and  though  limited  as 
yet  to  the  annexation  of  the  Spanish  and  Imperial  territories  which 
still  parted  her  frontier  from  the  Pyrenees,  the  Alps,  and  the  Rhine,  a 
statesman  of  wise  political  genius  would  have  discerned  the  beginning 
of  that  great  struggle  for  supremacy  over  Europe  at  large  which  was 


592 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Sec.  X. 

The 

Fall  o? 
Puritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 


War  with 
Spain 


i6S4 


only  foiled  by  the  genius  of  Marlborough  and  the  victories  of  the 
Grand  Alliance.  But  in  his  view  of  European  politics  Cromwell 
was  misled  by  the  conservative  and  unspeculative  temper  of  his  mind 
as  well  as  by  the  strength  of  his  religious  enthusiasm.  Of  the  change 
in  the  world  around  him  he  seems  to  have  discerned  nothing.  He 
brought  to  the  Europe  of  Mazarin  the  hopes  and  ideas  with  which 
all  England  was  thrilling  in  his  youth  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War.  Spain  was  still  to  him  "the  head  of  the  Papal  Interest,'^ 
whether  at  home  or  abroad.  "  The  Papists  in  England,"  he  said  to 
the  Parliament  of  1656,  "  have  been  accounted,  ever  since  I  was  bom, 
Spaniolized  ;  they  never  regarded  France,  or  any  other  Papist  state, 
but  Spain  only."  The  old  English  hatred  of  Spain,  the  old  English 
resentment  at  the  shameful  part  which  the  nation  had  been  forced  to 
play  in  the  great  German  struggle  by  the  policy  of  James  and  of  Charles, 
lived  on  in  Cromwell,  and  was  only  strengthened  by  the  religious 
enthusiasm  which  the  success  of  Puritanism  had  kindled  within  him. 
"  The  Lord  Himself,"  he  wrote  to  his  admirals  as  they  sailed  to  the 
West  Indies,  "hath  a  controversy  with  your  enemies  ;  even  with  that 
Romish  Babylon  of  which  the  Spaniard  is  the  great  underpropper. 
In  that  respect  we  fight  the  Lord's  battles."  What  Sweden  had  been 
under  Gustavus,  England,  Cromwell  dreamt,  might  be  now — the  head 
of  a  great  Protestant  League  in  the  struggle  against  Catholic  aggres- 
sion. "  You  have  on  your  shoulders,"  he  said  to  the  Parliament  of 
1654,  "  the  interest  of  all  the  Christian  people  of  the  world.  I  wish  it 
may  be  written  on  our  hearts  to  be  zealous  for  that  interest." 

The  first  step  in  such  a  struggle  was  necessarily  to  league  the  Pro- 
testant powers  together,  and  Cromwell's  earliest  efibrts  were  directed  to 
bring  the  ruinous  and  indecisive  quarrel  with  Holland  to  an  end.  The 
fierceness  of  the  strife  had  grown  with  each  engagement  ;  but  the  hopes 
of  Holland  fell  with  her  admiral,  Tromp,  who  received  a  mortal  wound 
at  the  moment  when  he  had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  English  line ; 
and  the  skill  and  energy  of  his  successor,  De  Ruyter,  struggled  in  vain 
to  restore  her  waning  fortunes.  She  was  saved  by  the  expulsion  of 
the  Long  Parliament,  which  had  persisted  in  its  demand  of  a  political 
union  of  the  two  countries  ;  and  the  new  policy  of  Cromwell  was  seen 
in  the  conclusion  of  peace.  The  United  Provinces  recognized  the 
supremacy  of  the  English  flag  in  the  British  seas,  and  submitted  10  the 
Navigation  Act,  while  Holland  pledged  itself  to  shut  out  the  House  of 
Orange  from  power,  and  thus  relieved  England  from  the  risk  of  seeing 
a  Stuart  restoration  supported  by  Dutch  forces.  The  peace  with  the 
Dutch  was  followed  by  the  conclusion  of  like  treaties  with  Sweden  and 
with  Denmark  ;  and  on  the  arrival  of  a  Swedish  envoy  with  offers  of  a 
league  of  friendship,  Cromwell  endeavoured  to  bring  the  Dutch,  the 
Brandenburgers,  and  the  Danes  into  a  confederation  of  the  Protestant 
powers.      His  efforts  in  this  direction   however,  though  they  never 


VIII  ] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


593 


wholly  ceased,  remained  fruitless  ;  but  the  Protector  was  resolute  to 
carry  out  his  plans  single-handed.  The  defeat  of  the  Dutch  had  left 
England  the  chief  sea-power  of  the  world  ;  and  before  the  dissolution 
of  the  Parliament,  two  fleets  put  to  sea  with  secret  instructions.  The 
first,  under  Blake,  appeared  in  the  Mediterranean,  exacted  reparation 
from  Tuscany  for  wrongs  done  to  English  commerce,  bombarded 
Algiers,  and  destroyed  the  fleet  with  which  its  pirates  had  ventured 
through  the  reign  of  Charles  to  insult  the  English  coast.  The  thunder 
of  Blake's  guns,  every  Puritan  believed,  would  be  heard  in  the  castle 
of  St.  Angelo,  and  Rome  itself  would  have  to  bow  to  the  greatness 
of  Cromwell.  But  though  no  declaration  of  war  had  been  issued 
against  Spain,  the  true  aim  of  both  expeditions  was  an  attack  on  that 
power  ;  and  the  attack  proved  singularly  unsuccessful.  Though  Blake 
sailed  to  the  Spanish  coast,  he  failed  to  intercept  the  treasure  fleet 
from  America  ;  and  the  second  expedition,  which  made  its  way  to  the 
West  Indies,  was  foiled  in  a  descent  on  St.  Domingo.  Its  conquest  of 
Jamaica,  important  as  it  really  was  in  breaking  through  the  monopoly 
of  the  New  World  in  the  South  which  Spain  had  till  now  enjoyed, 
seemed  at  the  time  but  a  poor  result  for  a  vast  expenditure  of  blood 
and  money.  Its  leaders  were  sent  to  the  Tower  on  their  return  ;  but 
Cromwell  found  himself  at  war  with  Spain,  and  thrown  whether  he 
would  or  no  into  the  hands  of  the  French  minister  Mazarin. 

He  was  forced  to  sign  a  treaty  of  alhance  with  France;  while  the 
cost  of  his  abortive  expeditions  drove  him  again  to  face  a  Parhament. 
But  Cromwell  no  longer  trusted,  as  in  his  earlier  Parliament,  to  freedom 
of  elections.  The  sixty  members  sent  from  Ireland  and  Scotland 
under  the  Ordinances  of  union  were  simply  nominees  of  the  Govern- 
ment. Its  whole  influence  was  exerted  to  secure  the  return  of  the 
more  conspicuous  members  of  the  Council  of  State.  It  was  calculated 
that  of  the  members  returned  one-half  were  bound  to  the  Government 
by  ties  of  profit  or  place.  But  Cromwell  was  still  unsatisfied.  A 
certificate  of  the  Council  was  required  from  each  member  before  ad- 
mission to  the  House  ;  and  a  fourth  of  the  whole  number  returned — 
one  hundred  in  all,  with  Haselrig  at  their  bead — were  by  this  means 
excluded  on  grounds  of  disaffection  or  want  of  religion.  To  these 
arbitrary  acts  of  violence  the  House  replied  only  by  a  course  of 
singular  moderation  and  wisdom.  From  the  first  it  disclaimed  any 
purpose  of  opposing  the  Government.  One  of  its  earliest  acts  pro- 
vided securities  for  Cromwell's  person,  which  was  threatened  by 
constant  plots  of  assassination.  It  supported  him  in  his  war  policy, 
and  voted  supplies  of  unprecedented  extent  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
struggle.  It  was  this  attitude  of  loyalty  which  gave  force  to  its  steady 
refusal  to  sanction  the  system  of  tyranny  which  had  practically  placed 
England  under  martial  law.  In  his  opening  address  Cromwell  boldly 
took  his  stand  in  support  of  the  military  despotism  wielded  by  the 


594 


Sec  X. 

Thb 

Fall  of 

puritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


XCHAP. 


Offer 
of  the 
CroTvu 
to  Crom- 
well 


Mar.  1657 


major  generals.  "  It  hath  been  more  effectual  towards  the  discoun- 
tenancing of  vice  and  settling  religion  than  anything  done  these  fifty 
years.  I  will  abide  by  it,"  he  said,  with  singular  vehemence,  "not- 
withstanding the  envy  and  slander  of  foolish  men.  I  could  as  soon 
venture  my  life  with  it  as  with  anything  I  ever  undertook.  If  it  were 
to  be  done  again,  I  would  do  it."  But  no  sooner  had  a  bill  been 
introduced  into  Parliament  to  confirm  the  proceedings  of  the  major- 
generals  than  a  long  debate  showed  the  temper  of  the  Commons. 
They  had  resolved  to  acquiesce  in  the  Protectorate,  but  they  were 
equally  resolved  to  bring  it  again  to  a  legal  mode  of  government. 
This  indeed  was  the  aim  of  even  Cromwell's  wiser  adherents.  "  What 
makes  me  fear  the  passing  of  this  Act,"  one  of  them  wrote  to  his  son 
Henry,  ^  is  that  thereby  His  Highness'  government  will  be  more  founded 
in  force,  and  more  removed  from  that  natural  foundation  which  the 
people  in  Parliament  are  desirous  to  give  him,  supposing  that  he  will 
become  more  theirs  than  now  he  is."  The  bill  was  rejected,  and 
Cromwell  bowed  to  the  feeling  of  the  nation  by  withdrawing  the  powers 
of  the  major-generals. 

But  the  defeat  of  the  tyranny  of  the  sword  was  only  a  step  towards 
a  far  bolder  effort  for  the  restoration  of  the  power  of  the  law.  It  was 
no  mere  pedantry,  still  less  was  it  vulgar  flattery,  which  influenced  the 
Parliament  in  their  offer  to  Cromwell  of  the  title  of  King.  The 
experience  of  the  last  few  years  had  taught  the  nation  the  value  of  the 
traditional  forms  under  which  its  liberties  had  grown  up.  A  king  was 
limited  by  constitutional  precedents.  "The  king's  prerogative,"  it 
was  well  urged,  "  is  under  the  courts  of  justice,  and  is  bounded  as  well 
as  any  acre  of  land,  or  anything  a  man  hath."  A  Protector,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  new  in  our  history,  and  there  were  no  traditional 
means  of  limiting  his  power.  "  The  one  office  being  lawful  in  its 
nature,"  said  Glynne,  "  known  to  the  nation,  certain  in  itself,  and 
confined  and  regulated  by  the  law,  and  the  other  not  so — that  was  the 
great  ground  why  the  Parliament  did  so  much  insist  on  this  office  and 
title."  Under  the  name  of  Monarchy,  indeed,  the  question  really  at 
issue  between  the  party  headed  by  the  officers  and  the  party  led  by  the 
lawyers  in  the  Commons  was  that  of  the  restoration  of  constitutional 
and  legal  rule.  The  proposal  was  carried  by  an  overwhelming  majority, 
but  a  month  passed  in  endless  consultations  between  the  Parliament 
and  the  Protector.  His  good  sense,  his  knowledge  of  the  general 
feeling  of  the  nation,  his  real  desire  to  obtain  a  settlement  which  should 
secure  the  ends  for  which  Puritanism  fought,  political  and  religious 
liberty,  broke  in  conference  after  conference  through  a  mist  of  words. 
But  his  real  concern  throughout  was  with  the  temper  of  the  army.  Crom- 
well knew  well  that  his  government  was  a  sheer  government  of  the  sword, 
and  that  the  discontent  of  his  soldiery  would  shake  the  fabric  of  his 
power.  He  vibrated  to  and  fro  between  his  sense  of  the  political  advan* 


vni.1 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


595 


'tages  of  such  a  settlement,  and  his  sense  of  its  impossibiHty  in  face  of 
the  mood  of  the  army.  His  soldiers,  he  said,  were  no  common  swords- 
men. They  were  "  godly  men,  men  that  will  not  be  beaten  down  by 
a  worldly  and  carnal  spirit  while  they  keep  their  integrity ; "  men  in 
whose  general  voice  he  recognized  the  voice  of  God.  "  They  are 
honest  and  faithful  men,"  he  urged,  "  true  to  the  great  things  of  the 
Government.  And  though  it  really  is  no  part  of  their  goodness  to 
be  unwilling  to  submit  to  what  a  Parliament  shall  settle  over  them, 
yet  it  is  my  duty  and  conscience  to  beg  of  you  that  there  may  be 
no  hard  things  put  upon  them  which  they  cannot  swallow.  I  cannot 
think  God  would  bless  an  undertaking  of  anything  which  would  justly 
and  with  cause  grieve  them."  The  temper  of  the  army  was  soon 
shown.  Its  leaders,  with  Lambert,  Fleetwood,  and  Desborough  at 
their  head,  placed  their  commands  in  Cromwell's  hands.  A  petition 
from  the  officers  to  Parliament  demanded  the  withdrawal  of  the  pro- 
posal to  restore  the  Monarchy,  "  in  the  name  of  the  old  cause  for 
which  they  had  bled."  Cromwell  at  once  anticipated  the  coming 
debate  on  this  petition,  a  debate  which  might  have  led  to  an  open 
breach  between  the  army  and  the  Commons,  by  a  refusal  of  the  crown. 
"  I  cannot  undertake  this  Government,"  he  said,  "  with  that  title  of 
King ;  and  that  is  my  answer  to  this  great  and  weighty  business." 

Disappointed  as  it  was,  the  Parliament  with  singular  self-restraint 
turned  to  other  modes  of  bringing  about  its  purpose.  The  offer  of  the 
crown  had  been  coupled  with  the  condition  of  accepting  a  consti- 
tution which  was  a  modification  of  the  Instrument  of  Government 
adopted  by  the  Parliament  of  1654,  and  this  constitution  Cromwell 
emphatically  approved.  "  The  things  provided  by  this  Act  of  Govern- 
ment," he  owned,  "  do  secure  the  liberties  of  the  people  of  God  as  they 
never  before  have  had  them."  With  a  change  of  the  title  of  King  into 
that  of  Protector,  the  Act  of  Government  now  became  law ;  and  the 
solemn  inauguration  of  the  Protector  by  the  Parliament  was  a  prac- 
tical acknowledgment  on  the  part  of  Cromwell  of  the  illegality  of  his 
former  rule.  In  the  name  of  the  Commons  the  Speaker  invested  him 
with  a  mantle  of  State,  placed  the  sceptre  in  his  hand,  and  girt  the 
sword  of  justice  by  his  side.  By  the  new  Act  of  Government  Crom- 
well was  allowed  to  name  his  own  successor,  but  in  all  after  cases  the 
office  was  to  be  an  elective  one.  In  every  other  respect  the  forms  of 
the  older  Constitution  were  carefully  restored.  Parliament  was  again 
to  consist  of  two  Houses,  the  seventy  members  of  "  the  other  House  " 
being  named  by  the  Protector.  The  Commons  regained  their  old 
right  of  exclusively  deciding  on  the  qualification  of  their  members. 
Parliamentary  restrictions  were  imposed  on  the  choice  of  members  of 
the  Council,  and  officers  of  State  or  of  the  army.  A  fixed  revenue 
was  voted  to  the  Protector,  and  it  was  provided  that  no  moneys  should 
be  raised  but  by  assent  of  Parliament.     Liberty  of  worship  was  secured 


596 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


Sac.  X. 

Tirti 

Fall  of 

Puritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 
Crom- 
well's 
trfcamphs 


1658 


1  eatb  of 
Cromwell 


for  all  but  Papists,  Prelatists,  Socinians,  or  those  who  denied  the 
inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  liberty  of  conscience  was  secured 
for  all. 

The  adjournment  of  the  House  after  his  inauguration  left  Cromwell 
at  the  height  of  his  power.  He  seemed  at  last  to  have  placed  hiii 
government  on  a  legal  and  national  basis.  The  ill-success  of  his 
earlier  operations  abroad  was  forgotten  in  a  blaze  of  glory.  On  the 
eve  of  the  Parliament's  assembly  one  of  Blake's  captains  had  managed 
to  intercept  a  part  of  the  Spanish  treasure  fleet.  At  the  close  of  1656 
the  Protector  seemed  to  have  found  the  means  of  realizing  his  schemes 
for  rekindling  the  religious  war  throughout  Europe  in  a  quarrel 
between  the  Duke  of  Savoy  and  his  Protestant  subjects  in  the  valleys 
of  Piedmont.  A  ruthless  massacre  of  these  Vaudois  by  the  Duke's 
troops  roused  deep  resentment  throughout  England,  a  resentment 
which  still  breathes  in  the  noblest  of  Milton's  sonnets.  While  the 
poet  called  on  God  to  avenge  his  "  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones  lie 
scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold,"  Cromwell  was  already  busy 
with  the  work  of  earthly  vengeance.  An  English  envoy  appeared  at 
the  Duke's  court  with  haughty  demands  of  redress.  Their  refusal 
would  have  been  followed  by  instant  war,  for  the  Protestant  Cantons 
of  Switzerland  were  bribed  into  promising  a  force  of  ten  thousand  men 
for  an  attack  on  Savoy.  The  plan  was  foiled  by  the  cool  diplomacy  of 
Mazarin,  who  forced  the  Duke  to  grant  Cromwell's  demands  ;  but  the 
apparent  success  of  the  Protector  raised  his  reputation  at  home  and 
abroad.  The  spring  of  1657  saw  the  greatest  as  it  was  the  last  of  the 
triumphs  of  Blake.  He  found  the  Spanish  Plate  fleet  guarded  by 
galleons  in  the  strongly-armed  harbour  of  Santa  Cruz  ;  he  forced  an 
entrance  into  the  harbour  and  burnt  or  sank  every  ship  within  it. 
Triumphs  at  sea  were  followed  by  a  triumph  on  land.  Cromwell's 
demand  of  Dunkirk,  which  had  long  stood  in  the  way  of  any  acceptance 
of  his  offers  of  aid,  was  at  last  conceded  ;  and  a  detachment  of  the 
Puritan  army  joined  the  French  troops  who  were  attacking  Flanders 
under  the  command  of  Turenne.  Their  valour  and  discipline  were 
shown  by  the  part  they  took  in  the  capture  of  Mardyke  ;  and  still  more 
by  the  victory  of  the  Dunes,  a  victory  which  forced  the  Flemish 
towns  to  open  their  gates  to  the  French,  and  gave  Dunkirk  to 
Cromwell. 

Never  had  the  fame  of  an  English  ruler  stood  higher  ;  but  in  the 
midst  of  his  glory  the  hand  of  death  was  falling  on  the  Protector. 
He  had  long  been  weary  of  his  task.  "  God  knows,"  he  had  burst  out 
to  the  Parliament  a  year  before,  "  I  would  have  been  glad  to  have  lived 
under  my  woodside,  and  to  have  kept  a  flock  of  sheep,  rather  than  to 
have  undertaken  this  government."  And  now  to  the  weariness  of  powei 
was  added  the  weakness  and  feverish  impatience  of  disease.  Vigorous 
and  energetic  as  his  life  had  seemed,  his  health  was  by  no  means  as 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


597 


strong  as  his  will ;  he  had  been  struck  down  by  intermittent  fever  in 
the  midst  of  his  triumphs  both  in  Scotland  and  in  Ireland,  and  during 
the  past  year  he  had  suffered  from  repeated  attacks  of  it.  "  I  have 
some  infirmities  upon  me,"  he  owned  twice  over  in  his  speech  at  the 
re-opening  of  the  Parliament  after  an  adjournment  of  six  months ; 
'\nd  his  feverish  irritability  was  quickened  by  the  public  danger.  No 
supplies  had  been  voted,  and  the  pay  of  the  army  was  heavily  in 
arrear,  while  its  temper  grew  more  and  more  sullen  at  the  appearance 
of  the  new  Constitution  and  the  re-awakening  of  the  royalist  intrigues. 
Under  the  terms  of  the  new  Constitution  the  members  excluded  in  the 
preceding  year  took  their  places  again  in  the  House.  The  mood  of 
the  nation  was  reflected  in  the  captious  and  quarrelsome  tone  of  the 
Commons.  They  still  delayed  the  grant  of  supplies.  Meanwhile  a 
hasty  act  of  the  Protector  in  giving  to  his  nominees  in  "the  other  House," 
as  the  new  second  chamber  he  had  devised  was  called,  the  title  of 
"  Lords,"  kindled  a  strife  between  the  two  Houses  which  was  busily 
fanned  by  Haselrig  and  other  opponents  of  the  Government.  It  was 
contended  that  the  "other  House"  had  under  the  new  Constitution 
simply  judicial  and  not  legislative  powers.  Such  a  contention  struck 
at  Cromwell's  work  of  restoring  the  old  political  forms  of  English  life  ; 
and  the  reappearance  of  Parliamentary  strife  threw  him  at  last,  says  an 
observer  at  his  court,  "  into  a  rage  and  passion  like  unto  madness." 
What  gave  weight  to  it  was  the  growing  strength  of  the  royalist  party, 
and  its  preparations  for  a  coming  rising.  Charbs  himself  with  a  large 
body  of  Spanish  troops  drew  to  the  coast  of  Flanders  to  take  advantage 
of  it.  His  hopes  were  above  all  encouraged  by  the  strife  in  the  Commons, 
and  their  manifest  dislike  of  the  system  of  the  Protectorate.  It  was 
this  that  drove  Cromwell  to  action.  Summoning  his  coach,  by  a 
sudden  impulse,  the  Protector  drove  with  a  few  guards  to  Westminster ; 
and  setting  aside  the  remonstrances  of  Fleetwood,  summoned  the  two 
Houses  to  his  presence.  "  I  do  dissolve  this  Parliament,"  he  ended  a 
speech  of  angry  rebuke,  "  and  let  God  be  judge  between  you  and  me." 
Fatal  as  was  the  error,  for  the  moment  all  went  well.'  The  army  was 
reconcihd  by  the  blow  levelled  at  its  opponents,  and  the  few  murmurers 
were  weeded  from  its  ranks  by  a  careful  remodelling.  The  triumphant 
officers  vowed  to  stand  or  fall  with  his  Highness.  The  danger  of  a 
royalist  rising  vanished  before  a  host  of  addresses  from  the  counties. 
Great  news  too  came  from  abroad,  where  victory  in  Flanders,  and  the 
cession  of  Dunkirk,  set  the  seal  on  Cromwell's  glory.  But  the  fever 
crept  steadily  on,  and  his  looks  told  the  tale  of  death  to  the  Quaker, 
Fox,  who  met  him  riding  in  Hampton  Court  Park.  "  Before  I  came 
to  him,"  he  says,  "  as  he  rode  at  the  head  of  his  Life  Guards,  I  saw  and 
felt  a  waft  of  death  go  forth  against  him,  and  when  I  came  to  him 
he  looked  like  a  dead  man."  In  the  midst  of  his  triumph  Cromwell's 
heart  was  in  fact  heavy  with  the  sense  of  failure.     He  had  no  desire  to 


598 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sbc,  X. 

The 

Fall  of 

pcritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 


Au£.  1658 


Tbe  Fall 
of  Puri- 
tanism 


Richard 
CromwtU 


fan.  1659 


play  the  tyrant ;  nor  had  he  any  belief  in  the  permanence  of  a  mere 
tyranny.  He  clung  desperately  to  the  hope  of  bringing  the  country  to 
his  side.  He  had  hardly  dissolved  the  Parliament  before  he  was 
planning  the  summons  of  another,  and  angry  at  the  opposition  which 
his  Council  offered  to  the  project.  "  I  will  take  my  own  resolutions," 
he  said  gloomily  to  his  household  ;  **  I  can  no  longer  satisfy  myself  to 
sit  still,  and  make  myself  guilty  of  the  loss  of  all  the  honest  party  and 
of  the  nation  itself."  But  before  his  plans  could  be  realized  the  over- 
taxed strength  of  the  Protector  suddenly  gave  way.  He  saw  too 
clearly  the  chaos  into  which  his  death  would  plunge  England  to  be 
willing  to  die.  "  Do  not  think  I  shall  die,"  he  burst  out  with  feverish 
energy  to  the  physicians  who  gathered  round  him  ;  "  say  not  I 
have  lost  my  reason  !  I  tell  you  the  truth.  I  know  it  from  better 
authority  than  any  you  can  have  from  Galen  or  Hippocrates.  It  is  the 
answer  of  God  Himself  to  our  prayers ! "  Prayer  indeed  rose  from 
every  side  for  his  recovery,  but  death  drew  steadily  nearer,  till  even 
Cromwell  felt  that  his  hour  was  come.  "  I  would  be  willing  to  live," 
the  dying  man  murmured,  "  to  be  further  serviceable  to  God  and  His 
people,  but  my  work  is  done  !  Yet  God  will  be  with  His  people  !  " 
A  storm  which  tore  roofs  from  houses,  and  levelled  huge  trees  in  every 
forest,  seemed  a  fitting  prelude  to  the  passing  away  of  his  mighty 
spirit.  Three  days  later,  on  the  third  of  September,  the  day  which 
had  witnessed  his  victories  of  Worcester  and  Dunbar,  Cromwell 
quietly  breathed  his  last. 

So  absolute  even  in  death  was  his  sway  over  the  minds  of  men, 
that,  to  the  wonder  of  the  excited  royalists,  even  a  doubtful  nomina- 
tion on  his  death-bed  was  enough  to  secure  the  peaceful  succession 
of  his  son,  Richard  Cromwell.  Many,  in  fact,  who  had  rejected  the 
authority  of  his  father  submitted  peaceably  to  the  new  Protector. 
Their  motives  were  explained  by  Baxter,  the  most  eminent  among  the 
Presbyterian  ministers,  in  the  address  to  Richard  which  announced  his 
adhesion.  *'  I  observe,"  he  says,  "  that  the  nation  generally  rejoice 
in  your  peaceable  entrance  upon  the  Government.  Many  are  per- 
suaded that  you  have  been  strangely  kept  from  participating  in  any  of 
our  late  bloody  contentions,  that  God  might  make  you  the  healer  of 
our  breaches,  and  employ  you  in  that  Temple  work  which  David  him- 
self might  not  be  honoured  with,  though  it  was  in  his  mind,  because 
he  shed  blood  abundantly  and  made  great  wars."  The  new  Protector 
was  a  weak  and  worthless  man,  but  the  bulk  of  the  nation  were  con- 
tent to  be  ruled  by  one  who  was  at  any  rate  no  soldier,  no  Puritan,  and 
no  innovator.  Richard  was  known  to  be  lax  and  worldly  in  his  con- 
duct, and  he  was  believed  to  be  conservative  and  even  royalist  in 
heart.  The  tide  of  reaction  was  felt  even  in  his  Council.  Their  first 
act  was  to  throw  aside  one  of  the  greatest  of  Cromwell's  reforms 
and  to  fall  back  in  the  summons  which  they  issued  for  the  new  Par 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


599 


liament  on  the  old  system  of  election.  It  was  felt  far  more  keenly 
in  the  tone  of  the  new  House  of  Commons.  The  republicans  under 
Vane,  backed  adroitly  by  the  secret  royalists,  fell  hotly  on  Cromwell's 
system.  The  fiercest  attack  of  all  came  from  Sir  Ashley  Cooper,  a 
Dorsetshire  gentleman  who  had  changed  sides  in  the  civil  war,  had 
fought  for  the  King  and  then  for  the  Parliament,  had  been  a  mem- 
ber of  Cromwell's  Council,  and  had  of  late  ceased  to  be  a  member  of 
it.  His  virulent  invective  on  "his  Highness  of  deplorable  memory, 
who  with  fraud  and  force  deprived  you  of  your  liberty  when  living,  and 
entailed  slavery  on  you  at  his  death,"  was  followed  by  an  equally 
virulent  invective  against  the  army.  "  They  have  not  only  subdued 
their  enemies,"  said  Cooper,  "  but  the  masters  who  raised  and  main- 
tained them  !  They  have  not  only  conquered  Scotland  and  Ireland, 
but  rebellious  England  too  ;  and  there  suppressed  a  Malignant  party 
of  magistrates  and  laws."  The  army  was  quick  with  its  reply.  It 
had  already  demanded  the  appointment  of  a  soldier  as  its  General  in 
the  place  of  the  new  Protector,  who  had  assumed  the  command.  The 
tone  of  the  Council  of  Officers  now  became  so  menacing  that  the 
Commons  ordered  the  dismissal  of  all  officers  who  refused  to  engage 
"not  to  disturb  or  interrupt  the  free  meetings  of  Parliament." 
Richard  ordered  the  Council  of  Officers  to  dissolve.  Their  reply 
was  a  demand  for  the  dissolution  of  the  Parliament,  a  demand  with 
which  Richard  was  forced  to  comply.  The  purpose  of  the  army 
however  was  still  to  secure  a  settled  government ;  and  setting  aside 
the  new  Protector,  whose  weakness  was  now  evident,  they  resolved  to 
come  to  a  reconciliation  with  the  republican  party,  and  to  recall  the 
fragment  of  the  Commons  whom  they  had  expelled  from  St.  Stephen's 
in  1653.  Of  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  members  who  had  continued 
to  sit  after  the  King's  death,  about  ninety  returned  to  their  seats,  and 
resumed  the  administration  of  affairs.  But  the  continued  exclusion  of 
the  members  who  had  been  "purged"  from  the  House  in  1648,  proved 
that  no  real  intention  existed  of  restoring  a  legal  rule.  The  House 
was  soon  at  strife  with  the  soldiers.  In  spite  of  Vane's  counsels,  it 
proposed  a  reform  of  the  officers,  and  though  a  royalist  rising  in 
Cheshire  during  August  threw  the  disputants  for  a  moment  together, 
the  struggle  revived  as  the  danger  passed  away.  A  new  hope  indeed 
filled  men's  minds.  Not  only  was  the  nation  sick  of  military  rule, 
but  the  army,  unconquerable  so  long  as  it  held  together,  at  last  showed 
signs  of  division.  In  Ireland  and  Scotland  the  troops  protested 
against  the  attitude  of  their  English  comrades  ;  and  Monk,  the  com- 
mander of  the  Scottish  army,  threatened  to  march  on  London  and  free 
the  Parliament  from  their  pressure.  Their  divisions  encouraged 
Haselrig  and  his  coadjutors  to  demand  the  dismissal  of  Fleetwood 
and  Lambert  from  their  commands.  They  answered  by  driving  the 
Parliament  again  from  Westminster,  and  by  marching  under  Lambert 


6oo 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sbc.  X 

The 

Fall  ok 

P';ritanism 


1653 

TO 

1060 

%n.  1660 


/ 


The 
Convention 
April  25 


Return  oj 
Charles 

May  25 


Milton 


to  the  north  to  meet  Monk's  army.  Negotiation  gave  Monk  time  to 
gather  a  Convention  at  Edinburgh,  and  strengthen  himself  with  money 
and  recruits.  His  attitude  roused  England  to  action.  So  rapidly  did 
the  tide  of  feeling  rise  throughout  the  country  that  the  army  was 
driven  to  undo  its  work  by  recalling  the  Rump.  Monk  however  ad- 
vanced rapidly  to  Coldstream,  and  crossed  the  border.  The  cry  of 
"A  free  Parliament"  ran  like  fire  through  the  country.  Not  only 
Fairfax,  who  appeared  in  arms  in  Yorkshire,  but  the  ships  on  the 
Thames  and  the  mob  which  thronged  the  streets  of  London  caught  up 
the  cry  ;  and  Monk,  who  lavished  protestations  of  loyalty  to  the  Rump, 
while  he  accepted  petitions  for  a  "  Free  Parliament,"  entered  London 
unopposed.  From  the  moment  of  his  entry  the  restoration  of  the 
Stuarts  became  inevitable.  The  army,  resolute  as  it  still  remained  for 
the  maintenance  of  "the  cause,"  was  deceived  by  Monk's  declarations  of 
loyalty  to  it,  and  rendered  powerless  by  his  adroit  dispersion  of  the  troops 
over  the  country.  At  the  instigation  of  Ashley  Cooper,  those  who  re- 
mained of  the  members  who  had  been  excluded  from  the  House  of  Com- 
mons by  Pride's  Purge  in  1648  again  forced  their  way  into  Parliament, 
and  at  once  resolved  on  a  dissolution  and  the  election  of  a  new  House 
of  Commons.  The  new  House,  which  bears  the  name  of  the  Conven- 
tion, had  hardly  taken  the  solemn  League  and  Covenant  which  showed 
its  Presbyterian  temper,  and  its  leaders  had  only  begun  to  draw  up 
terms  on  which  the  King's  restoration  might  be  assented  to,  when  they 
found  that  Monk  was  in  negotiation  with  the  exiled  Court.  All  exac- 
tion of  terms  was  now  impossible  ;  a  Declaration  from  Breda,  in  which 
Charles  promised  a  general  pardon,  religious  toleration,  and  satisfac- 
tion to  the  army,  was  received  with  a  burst  of  national  enthusiasm ; 
and  the  old  Constitution  was  restored  by  a  solemn  vote  of  the  Conven- 
tion, "  that  according  to  the  ancient  and  fundamental  laws  of  this 
Kingdom,  the  government  is,  and  ought  to  be,  by  King,  Lords,  and 
Commons."  The  King  was  at  once  invited  to  hasten  to  his  realm  ;  he 
landed  at  Dover,  and  made  his  way  amidst  the  shouts  of  a  great  multi- 
tude to  Whitehall.  "It  is  my  own  fault,"  laughed  the  new  King,  with 
characteristic  irony,  "  that  I  had  not  come  back  sooner  ;  for  I  find 
nobody  who  does  not  tell  me  he  has  always  longed  for  my  return." 

Puritanism,  so  men  believed,  had  fallen  never  to  rise  again.  As  a 
oolitical  experiment  it  had  ended  in  utter  failure  and  disgust.  As  a 
religious  system  of  national  life  it  brought  about  the  wildest  outbreak 
of  moral  revolt  that  England  has  ever  witnessed.  And  yet  Puritanism 
was  far  from  being  dead  ;  it  drew  indeed  a  nobler  life  from  suffering  and 
defeat.  Nothing  aids  us  better  to  trace  the  real  course  of  Puritan  influ- 
ence since  the  fall  of  Puritanism  than  the  thought  of  the  two  great  works 
which  have  handed  down  from  one  generation  to  another  its  highest 
and  noblest  spirit.  From  that  time  to  this  the  most  popular  of  all  reli- 
gious books  has  been  the  Puritan  allegory  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress.** 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


6oi 


The  most  popular  of  all  English  poems  has  been  the  Puritan  epic  of 
the  "  Paradise  Lost."  Milton  had  been  engaged  during  the  civil  war 
in  strife  with  Presbyterians  and  with  Royalists,  pleading  for  civil  and 
religious  freedom,  for  freedom  of  social  life,  and  freedom  of  the  press. 
At  a  later  time  he  became  Latin  Secretary  to  the  Protector,  in  spite  of 
a  blindness  which  had  been  brought  on  by  the  intensity  of  his  study. 
The  Restoration  found  him  of  all  living  men  the  most  hateful  to  the 
Royalists  ;  for  it  was  his  "  Defence  of  the  English  People"  which  had 
justified  throughout  Europe  the  execution  of  the  King.  Parliament 
ordered  his  book  to  be  burnt  by  the  common  hangman  ;  he  was  for 
a  time  imprisoned,  and  even  when  released  he  had  to  live  amidst 
threats  of  assassination  from  fanatical  Cavaliers.  To  the  ruin  of  his 
cause  were  added  personal  misfortunes  in  the  bankruptcy  of  the 
scrivener  who  held  the  bulk  of  his  property,  and  in  the  Fire  of  London, 
which  deprived  him  of  much  of  what  was  left.  As  age  drew  on,  he  found 
himself  reduced  to  comparative  poverty,  and  driven  to  sell  his  library 
for  subsistence.  Even  among  the  sectaries  who  shared  his  pohtical 
opinions  Milton  stood  in  religious  opinion  alone,  for  he  had  gradually 
severed  himself  from  every  accepted  form  of  faith,  had  embraced 
Arianism,  and  had  ceased  to  attend  at  any  place  of  worship.  Nor 
was  his  home  a  happy  one.  The  grace  and  geniality  of  his  youth  dis- 
appeared in  the  drudgery  of  a  schoolmaster's  hfe  and  amongst  the 
invectives  of  controversy.  In  age  his  temper  became  stern  and  exact- 
ing. His  daughters,  who  were  forced  to  read  to  their  blind  father  in 
languages  which  they  could  not  understand,  revolted  utterly  against 
their  bondage.  But  solitude  and  misfortune  only  brought  out  into 
bolder  relief  Milton's  inner  greatness.  There  was  a  grand  simplicity 
in  the  life  of  his  later  years.  He  listened  every  morning  to  a  chapter 
of  the  Hebrew  Bible,  and  after  musing  in  silence  for  a  while  pursued 
his  studies  till  midday.  Then  he  took  exercise  for  an  hour,  played 
for  another  hour  on  the  organ  or  viol,  and  renewed  his  studies. 
The  evening  was  spent  in  converse  with  visitors  and  friends.  For, 
lonely  and  unpopular  as  Milton  was,  there  was  one  thing  about 
him  which  made  his  house  in  Bunhill  Fields  a  place  of  pilgrimage 
to  the  wits  of  the  Restoration.  He  was  the  last  of  the  Elizabethans. 
He  had  possibly  seen  Shakspere,  as  on  his  visits  to  London  after 
his  retirement  to  Stratford  the  playwright  passed  along  Bread  Street 
to  his  wit  combats  at  the  Mermaid.  He  had  been  the  contemporary 
of  Webber  and  Massinger,  of  Herrick  and  Crashaw.  His  "  Comus" 
and  "Arcades"  had  rivalled  the  masques  of  Ben  Jonson.  It  was 
with  a  reverence  drawn  from  thoughts  like  these  that  men  looked 
on  the  blind  poet  as  he  sate,  clad  in  black,  in  his  chamber  hung  with 
rusty  green  tapestry,  his  fair  brown  hair  falling  as  of  old  over  a  calm, 
serene  face  that  still  retained  much  of  its  youthful  beauty,  his  c'  eeks 
delicately  coloured,  his  clear  grey  eyes   showing  no   trace   of  their 


6o2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


The 

Fall  of 
Puritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 

The 

Paradise 

Lost 


blindness.  But  famous,  whether  for  good  or  ill,  as  his  prose  writings 
had  made  him,  during  fifteen  years  only  a  few  sonnets  had  broken 
his  silence  as  a  singer.  It  was  now,  in  his  blindness  and  old  age, 
with  the  cause  he  loved  trodden  under  foot  by  men  as  vile  as  the  rabble 
in  "  Comus,"  that  the  genius  of  Milton  took  refuge  in  the  great  poem  on 
which  through  years  of  silence  his  imagination  had  still  been  brooding. 
On  his  return  from  his  travels  in  Italy,  Milton  had  spoken  of  himself 
as  musing  on  "  a  work  not  to  be  raised  from  the  heat  of  youth  or  the 
vapours  of  wine,  like  that  which  flows  at  waste  from  the  pen  of  some 
vulgar  amourist  or  the  trencher  fury  of  a  rhyming  parasite,  nor  to  be 
obtained  by  the  invocation  of  Dame  Memory  and  her  Siren  daughters  ; 
but  by  devout  prayer  to  that  Eternal  Spirit  who  can  enrich  with  all 
utterance  and  knowledge,  and  sends  out  His  Seraphim,  with  the 
hallowed  fire  of  His  altar,  to  touch  and  purify  the  lips  of  whom  He 
pleases."  His  lips  were  touched  at  last.  In  his  quiet  retreat  he  mused 
during  these  years  of  persecution  and  loneliness  on  his  great  work. 
Seven  years  after  the  Restoration  appeared  the  "  Paradise  Lost,"  and 
four  years  later  the  "  Paradise  Regained"  and  "  Samson  Agonistes," 
in  the  severe  grandeur  of  whose  verse  we  see  the  poet  himself  "  fallen," 
like  Samson,  "  on  evil  days  and  evil  tongues,  with  darkness  and  with 
danger  compassed  round."  But  great  as  the  two  last  works  were,  their 
greatness  was  eclipsed  by  that  of  their  predecessor.  The  whole  genius 
of  Milton  expressed  itself  in  the  "  Paradise  Lost."  The  romance,  the 
gorgeous  fancy,  the  daring  imagination  which  he  shared  with  the  Eliza- 
bethan poets,  the  large  but  ordered  beauty  of  form  which  he  had 
drunk  in  from  the  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome,  the  sublimity  of 
conception,  the  loftiness  of  phrase,  which  he  owed  to  the  Bible,  blended 
in  this  story  "  of  man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit  of  that  for- 
bidden tree,  whose  mortal  taste  brought  death  into  the  world  and  all 
our  woe."  It  is  only  when  we  review  the  strangely  mingled  elements 
which  make  up  the  poem,  that  we  realize  the  genius  which  fused 
them  into  such  a  perfect  whole.  The  meagre  outline  of  the  Hebrew 
legend  is  lost  in  the  splendour  and  music  of  Milton's  verse.  The 
stern  idealism  of  Geneva  is  clothed  in  the  gorgeous  robes  of  the 
Renascence.  If  we  miss  something  of  the  free  play  of  Spenser's 
fancy,  and  yet  more  of  the  imaginative  delight  in  their  own  creations 
which  gives  so  exquisite  a  life  to  the  poetry  of  the  early  dramatists, 
we  find  in  place  of  these  the  noblest  example  which  our  literature 
affords  of  the  ordered  majesty  of  classic  form  But  it  is  not  with  the 
literary  value  of  the  "  Paradise  Lost "  that  we  are  here  concerned. 
Its  historic  importance  lies  in  this,  that  it  is  the  Epic  of  Puritanism. 
Its  scheme  is  the  problem  with  which  the  Puritan  wrestled  in  hours 
of  gloom  and  darkness,  the  problem  of  sin  and  redemption,  of  the 
world-wide  struggle  of  evil  against  good.  The  intense  moral  concen- 
tration of  the  Puritan  had  given  an  almost  bodily  shape  to  spiritual 


VIII.] 


PURITAN  ENGLAND. 


603 


abstractions  before  Milton  gave  life  and  being  to  the  forms  of  Sin  and 
Death.  It  was  the  Puritan  tendency  to  mass  into  one  vast  "  body  of 
sin"  the  various  forms  of  human  evil,  and  by  the  very  force  of  a 
passionate  hatred  to  exaggerate  their  magnitude  and  their  power,  to 
which  we  owe  the  conception  of  Milton's  Satan.  The  greatness  of 
the  Puritan  aim  in  the  long  and  wavering  struggle  for  justice  and  law 
and  a  higher  good ;  the  grandeur  of  character  which  the  contest 
developed  ;  the  colossal  forms  of  good  and  evil  which  moved  over  its 
stage  ;  the  debates  and  conspiracies  and  battles  which  had  been  men's 
life  for  twenty  years  ;  the  mighty  eloquence  and  mightier  ambition 
which  the  war  had  roused  into  being — all  left  their  mark  on  the 
"Paradise  Lost."  Whatever  was  highest  and  best  in  the  Puritan 
temper  spoke  in  the  nobleness  and  elevation  of  the  poem,  in  its 
purity  of  tone,  in  its  grandeur  of  conception,  in  its  ordered  and 
equable  realization  of  a  great  purpose.  Even  in  his  boldest  flights, 
Milton  is  calm  and  master  of  himself.  His  touch  is  always  sure. 
Whether  he  passes  from  Heaven  to  Hell,  or  from  the  council  hall  of 
Satan  to  the  sweet  conference  of  Adam  and  Eve,  his  tread  is  steady 
and  unfaltering.  But  if  the  poem  expresses  the  higher  qualities  of  the 
Puritan  temper,  it  expresses  no  less  exactly  its  defects.  Throughout 
it  we  feel  almost  painfully  a  want  of  the  finer  and  subtler  sympathies, 
of  a  large  and  genial  humanity,  of  a  sense  of  spiritual  mystery. 
Dealing  as  Milton  does  with  subjects  the  most  awful  and  mysterious 
that  poet  ever  chose,  he  is  never  troubled  by  the  obstinate  questionings 
of  invisible  things  which  haunted  the  imagination  of  Shakspere.  We 
look  in  vain  for  any  ^Eschylean  background  of  the  vast  unknown. 
"  Man's  disobedience  "  and  the  scheme  for  man's  redemption  are  laid 
down  as  clearly  and  with  just  as  little  mystery  as  in  a  Puritan  dis- 
course. On  topics  such  as  these,  even  God  the  Father  (to  borrow 
Pope's  sneer)  "turns  a  school  divine."  As  in  his  earlier  poems  he 
had  ordered  and  arranged  nature,  so  in  the  "Paradise  Lost"  Milton 
orders  and  arranges  Heaven  and  Hell.  His  mightiest  figures,  Angel 
or  Archangel,  Satan  or  Belial,  stand  out  colossal  but  distinct.  There 
is  just  as  little  of  the  wide  sympathy  with  all  that  is  human  which  is 
so  loveable  in  Chaucer  and  Shakspere.  On  the  contrary  the  Puritan 
individuality  is  nowhere  so  overpowering  as  in  Milton.  He  leaves  the 
stamp  of  himself  deeply  graven  on  all  he  creates.  We  hear  his  voice 
in  every  line  of  his  poem.  The  cold,  severe  conception  of  moral 
virtue  which  reigns  throughout  it,  the  intellectual  way  in  which  he 
paints  and  regards  beauty  (for  the  beauty  of  Eve  is  a  beauty  which  no 
mortal  man  may  love)  are  Milton's  own.  We  feel  his  inmost  temper  in 
the  stoical  self-repression  which  gives  its  dignity  to  his  figures.  Adam 
utters  no  cry  of  agony  when  he  is  driven  from  Paradise.  Satan 
suffers  in  a  defiant  silence.  It  is  to  this  intense  self-concentration 
that  we  must  attribute  the  strange  deficiency  of  humour  which  Milton 


6o4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sfc.  X. 

Thb 
Fall  of 

Puritanism 

1653 

TO 

1660 


Disband- 
ing: of 
tbeArmy 


shared  with  the  Puritans  generally,  and  which  here  and  there  breaks 
the  sublimity  of  his  poem  with  strange  slips  into  the  grotesque.  But 
it  is  above  all  to  this  Puritan  deficiency  in  human  sympathy  that  we 
must  attribute  his  wonderful  want  of  dramatic  genius.  Of  the  power 
which  creates  a  thousand  different  characters,  which  endows  each  with 
its  appropriate  act  and  word,  which  loses  itself  in  its  own  creations, 
no  great  poet  ever  had  less. 

The  poem  of  Milton  was  the  epic  of  a  fallen  cause.  The  broken 
hope,  which  had  seen  the  Kingdom  of  the  Saints  pass  like  a  dream 
away,  spoke  in  its  very  name.  Paradise  was  lost  once  more,  when 
the  New  Model,  which  embodied  the  courage  and  the  hope  of  Puri- 
tanism, laid  down  its  arms.  In  his  progress  to  the  capital  Charles 
passed  in  review  the  soldiers  assembled  on  Blackheath.  Betrayed  by 
their  general,  abandoned  by  their  leaders,  surrounded  as  they  were  by  a 
nation  in  arms,  the  gloomy  silence  of  their  ranks  awed  even  the  careless 
King  with  a  sense  of  danger.  But  none  of  the  victories  of  the  New 
Model  were  so  glorious  as  the  victory  which  it  won  over  itself.  Quietly, 
and  without  a  struggle,  as  men  who  bowed  to  the  inscrutable  will  of 
God,  the  farmers  and  traders  who  had  dashed  Rupert's  chivalry  to 
pieces  on  Naseby  field,  who  had  scattered  at  Worcester  the  "army  of  the 
aliens,"  and  driven  into  helpless  flight  the  sovereign  that  now  came  "to 
enjoy  his  own  again,"  who  had  renewed  beyond  sea  the  glories  of  Cr^y 
and  Agincourt,  had  mastered  the  Parliament,  had  brought  a  King  to 
justice  and  the  block,  had  given  laws  to  England,  and  held  even 
Cromwell  in  awe,  became  farmers  and  traders  again,  and  were  known 
among  their  fellow-men  by  no  other  sign  than  their  greater  soberness 
and  industry.  And,  with  them,  Puritanism  laid  down  the  sword.  It 
ceased  from  the  long  attempt  to  build  up  a  kingdom  of  God  by  force 
and  violence,  and  fell  back  on  its  truer  work  of  building  up  a  kingdom 
of  righteousness  in  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men.  It  was  from 
the  moment  of  its  seeming  fall  that  its  real  victory  began.  As  soon  as 
the  wild  orgy  of  the  Restoration  was  over,  men  began  to  see  that  nothing 
that  was  really  worthy  in  the  work  of  Purlt#inism  had  been  undone. 
The  revels  of  Whitehall,  the  scepticism  and  debauchery  of  courtiers, 
the  corruption  of  statesmen,  left  the  mass  of  Englishmen  what 
Puritanism  had  made  them,  serious,  earnest,  sober  in  life  and  conduct, 
firm  in  their  love  of  Protestantism  and  of  freedom.  In  the  Revolution 
of  1688  Puritanism  did  the  work  of  civil  liberty  which  it  had  failed  to 
do  in  that  of  1642.  It  wrought  out  through  Wesley  and  the  revival 
of  the  eighteenth  century  the  work  of  religious  reform  which  its 
earlier  efforts  had  only  thrown  back  for  a  hundred  years.  Slowly  but 
steadily  it  introduced  its  own  seriousness  and  purity  into  English 
society,  English  literature,  English  politics.  The  whole  history  of 
English  progress  since  the  Restoration,  on  its  moral  and  spiritual 
sides,  has  been  the  history  of  Puritanism. 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


605 


CHAPTER    IX. 
THE   REVOLUTION. 

Section  I  .—England  and  the  Revolution. 

\Authorities. — For  the  social  change  see  Memoirs  of  Pepys  and  Evelyn, 
the  dramatic  works  of  Wycherly  and  Etherege,  and  Lord  Macaulay's  "  Essay 
on  the  Dramatists  of  the  Restoration."  For  the  earlier  history  of  English 
Science  see  Hallam's  sketch  (*' Literary  History,"  vol.  iv.) ;  the  histories  of 
the  Royal  Society  by  Thompson  or  Wade  ;  and  Sir  D.  Brewster's  biography 
of  Newton.      Sir  W.  Molesworth  has  edited  the  works  of  Hobbes.] 

The  entry  of  Charles  the  Second  into  Whitehall  marked  a  deep  and 
lasting  change  in  the  temper  of  the  English  people.  With  it  modern 
England  began.  The  influences  which  had  up  to  this  time  moulded 
our  history,  the  theological  influence  of  the  Reformation,  the  mon- 
archical influence  of  the  new  kingship,  the  feudal  influence  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  the  yet  earlier  influence  of  tradition  and  custom,  sud- 
denly lost  power  over  the  minds  of  men.  From  the  moment  of  the 
Restoration  we  find  ourselves  all  at  once  among  the  great  Currents 
of  thought  and  activity  which  have  gone  on  widening  and  deepening 
from  that  time  to  this.  The  England  around  us  becomes  our  own 
England,  an  England  whose  chief  forces  are  industry  and  science, 
the  love  of  popular  freedom  and  of  law,  an  England  which  presses 
steadily  forward  to  a  larger  social  justice  and  equality,  and  which 
tends  more  and  more  to  bring  every  custom  and  tradition,  religious, 
intellectual,  and  political,  to  the  test  of  pure  reason.  Between  modern 
thought,  on  some  at  least  of  its  more  important  sides,  and  the  thought 
of  men  before  the  Restoration  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed.  A  political 
thinker  in  the  present  day  would  find  it  equally  hard  to  discuss  any 
point  of  statesmanship  with  Lord  Burleigh  or  with  Oliver  Cromwell. 
He  would  find  no  point  of  contact  between  their  ideas  of  national  life 
or  national  welfare,  their  conception  of  government  or  the  ends  of 
government,  their  mode  of  regarding  economical  and  social  questions, 
and  his  own.  But  no  gulf  of  this  sort  parts  us  from  the  men  who 
followed  the  Restoration.  From  that  time  to  this,  whatever  differences 
there  may  have  been  as  to  practical  conclusions  drawn  from  them, 
there  has  been  a  substantial  agreement  as  to  the  grounds  of  our 
political,  our  social,  our  intellectual  and  religious  life.  Paley  would 
have  found  no  difficulty  in  understanding  Tillotson  :  Newton  and  Sir 


r 


606 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHA*. 


Sec.  I. 
England 

AND  THE 

Revolution 

The 

Puritan 

Ideal 


Humphry  Davy  could  have  talked  without  a  sense  of  severance.  There 
would  have  been  nothing  to  hinder  a  perfectly  clear  discussion  on 
government  or  law  between  John  Locke  and  Jeremy  Bentham. 

The  change  from  the  old  England  to  the  new  is  so  startling  that  we 
are  apt  to  look  oi^.it  as  a  more  sudden  change  than  it  really  was,  and 
the  outer  aspect  of  th%  'Restoration  does  much  to  strengthen  this 
impression  of  suddenness.  The  aim  of  the  Puritan  had  been  to  set 
up  a  visible  Kingdom  of  God  upon  earth.  He  had  wrought  out  his 
aim  by  reversing  the  policy  of  the  Stuarts  and  the  Tudors.  From  the 
time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  to  the  time  of  Charles  the  First,  the  Church 
had  been  looked  upon  primarily  as  an  instrument  for  securing,  by 
moral  and  religious  influences,  the  social  and  political  ends  of  the 
State.  Under  the  Commonwealth,  the  State,  in  its  turn,  was  regarded 
primarily  as  an  instrument  for  securing  through  its  political  and  social 
influences  the  moral  and  religious  ends  of  the  Church.  In  the  Puritan 
theory,  Englishmen  were  "  the  Lord's  people  ; "  a  people  dedicated  to 
Him  by  a  solemn  Covenant,  and  whose  end  as  a  nation  was  to  carry 
out  His  will.  For  such  an  end  it  was  needful  that  rulers,  as  well  as 
people,  should  be  "godly  men."  Godliness  became  necessarily  the 
chief  qualification  for  public  employment.  The  new  modelling  of  the 
army  filled  its  ranks  with  "  saints."  Parliament  resolved  to  employ  no 
man  "but  such  as  the  House  shall  be  satisfied  of  his  real  godliness." 
The  Covenant  which  bound  the  nation  to  God  bound  it  to  enforce 
God's  laws  even  more  earnestly  than  its  own.  The  Bible  lay  on  the 
table  of  the  House  of  Commons  ;  and  its  prohibition  of  swearing, 
of  drunkenness,  of  fornication  became  part  of  the  law  of  the  land. 
Adultery  was  made  felony  without  the  benefit  of  clergy.  Pictures 
whose  subjects  jarred  with  the  new  decorum  were  ordered  to  be  burnt, 
and  statues  were  chipped  ruthlessly  into  decency.  It  was  in  the  same 
temper  that  Puritanism  turned  from  public  life  to  private.  The 
Covenant  bound  not  the  whole  nation  only,  but  every  individual 
member  of  the  nation,  to  "  a  jealous  God,"  a  God  jealous  of  any 
superstition  that  robbed  him  of  the  worship  which  was  exclusively 
his  due,  jealous  of  the  distraction  and  frivolity  which  robbed  him  of 
the  entire  devotion  of  man  to  his  service.  The  want  of  poetry,  oF 
fancy,  in  the  common  Puritan  temper  condemned  half  the  popular 
observance!  of  England  as  superstitions.  It  was  superstitious  to  keep 
Christmas,  or  to  deck  the  house  with  holly  and  ivy.  It  was  super- 
stitious to  dance  round-the  village  May-pole.  It  was  flat  Popery  to  cat 
a  mince-pie.  The  rough  sport,  the  mirth  and  fun  of  "  merry  England," 
were  out  of  place  in  an  England  called  with  so  great  a  calling.  Bull- 
baiting,  bear-baiting,  horse-racing,  cock-fighting,  the  village  revel,  the 
dance  under  the  May-pole,  were  put  down  with  the  same  indiscrim- 
inating  severity.  The  long  struggle  between  the  Puritans  and  the 
play-wrights  ended  in  the  closing  of  every  theatre. 


IX.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


607 


I'he  Restoration  brought  Charles  to  Whitehall :  and  in  an  instant  the 
whole  face  of  England  was  changed.  All  that  was  noblest  and  best 
in  Puritanism  was  whirled  away  with  its  pettine^  and  its  tyranny  in 
the  current  of  the  nation's  hate.  Religion  had  Been  turned  into  a 
system  of  political  and  social  jippression,  and  it  fell  with  their  fall. 
Godliness  became  a  by- word  of  scorn ;.  sobriety  in  dress,  in  speech,  in 
manners  was  flouted  as  a  mark  of  the  detested  Puritanism.  Butler  in 
his  "  Hudibras  "  poured  insult  on  the  past  with  a  pedantic  buffoonery 
for  which  the  general  hatred,  far  more  ihan  its  humour,  secured  a 
hearing.  Archbishop  Sheldon  listened/ to  the  mock  sermon  of  a 
Cavalier  who  held  up  the  Puritan  phjase  and  the  Puritan  twang  to 
ridicule  in  his  hall  at  LambBthr-^uelling  and  raking  became  the 
marks  of  a  fine  gentleman  ;  and  grave  divines  winked  at  the  follies  of 
"  honest  fellows,"  who  fought,  gambled,  swore,  drank,  and  ended  a  day 
of  debauchery  by  a  night  in  the  gutter.  Life  among  men  of  fashion 
vibrated  between  frivolity  and  excess.  One  of  the  comedies  of  the 
time  tells  the  courtier  that  "  he  must  dress  well,  dance  well,  fence  well, 
have  a  talent  for  love-letters,  an  agreeable  voice,  be  amorous  and  dis- 
creet— but  not  too  constant."  To  graces  such  as  these  the  rakes  of  the 
Restoration  added  a  shamelessness  and  a  brutality  which  passes  behef 
Lord  Rochester  was  a  fashionable  poet,  and  the  titles  of  some  of  his 
poems  are  such  as  no  pen  of  our  day  could  copy.  Sir  Charles  Sedley 
was  a  fashionable  wit,  and  the  foulness  of  his  words  made  even  the 
porters  of  Covent  Garden  pelt  him  from  the  balcony  when  he  ventured 
to  address  them.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  a  fair  type  of  the  time, 
and  the  most  characteristic  event  in  the  Duke's  life  was  a  duel  in  which 
he  consummated  his  seduction  of  Lady  Shrewsbury  by  killing  her  hus- 
band, while  the  Countess  in  disguise  as  a  page  held  his  horse  for  him 
and  looked  on  at  the  murder.  Vicious  as  the  stage  was,  it  only  re- 
flected the  general  vice  of  the  time.  The  Comedy  of  the  Restoration 
borrowed  everything  from  the  Comedy  of  France  save  the  poetry,  the 
delicacy,  and  good  taste  which  veiled  its  grossness.  Seduction,  in- 
trigue, brutality,  cynicism,  debauchery,  found  fitting  expression  in 
dialogue  of  a  studied  and  deliberate  foulness,  which  even  its  wit  fails 
to  redeem  from  disgust.  Wycherly,  the  popular  play-wright  of  the 
time,  remains  the  most  brutal  among  all  writers  of  the  stage ;  and 
nothing  gives  so  damning  an  impression  of  his  day  as  the  fact  that 
he  found  actors  to  repeat  his  words  and  audiences  to  applaud  them. 
Men  such  as  Wycherly  gave  Milton  models  for  the  Belial  of  his  great 
poem,  *'  than  whom  a  spirit  more  lewd  fell  not  from  Heaven,  or  more 
gross  to  love  vice  for  itself."  The  dramatist  piques  himself  on  the 
frankness  and  "  plain  dealing  "  which  painted  the  world  as  he  saw  it, 
a  world  of  brawls  and  assignations,  of  orgies  at  Vauxhall,  and  fights 
with  the  watch,  of  lies  and  double-entendres,  of  knaves  and  dupes,  of 
men  wno  sold  their  daughters,  and  women  who  cheated  their  husbands. 


Go8 


HISTORY  OY  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA». 


Sec.  I. 
England 

AND  THE 

Revolution 

The 
Earlier 
Change 


But  the  cynicism  of  Wycherly  was  no  greater  than  that  of  the  me" 
about  him  ;  and  in  mere  love  of  what  was  vile,  in  contempt  oi  virtue 
w  honesty,  the  King  himself  stood  ahead  of  any 


and  disbelief  in  purit^r 
of  his  subjects,     ^r 
It  is  however -^sy  to  ( 


asy  to  exaggerate  the  extent  of  this  reaction.  So  far 
as  we  can  judge  from  the  memoirs  of  the  time,  its  more  violent  forms 
were  practically  confined  to  the  capital  and  the  court.  The  mass  of 
Englishmen  were  satisfied  with  getting  back  their  May-poles  and  mince- 
pies  ;  and  a  large-praft  of  the  people  remained  Puritan  in  life  and 
belief,  though^^tney  threw  aside  many  of  the  outer  characteristics  of 
Puritanisni;  Nor  was  the  revolution  in  feeling  as  sudden  as  it  seemed. 
Even  ir  the  political  strength  of  Puritanism  had  remained  unbroken, 
its  social  influence  must  soon  have  ceased.  The  young  Englishmen 
who  grew  up  in  the  midst  of  the  civil  war  knew  nothing  of  the  bitter 
tyranny  which  gave  its  zeal  and  fire  to  the  religion  of  their  fathers. 
From  the  social  and  religious  anarchy  around  them,  from  the  endless 
controversies  and  discussions  of  the  time,  they  drank  in  the  spirit 
of  scepticism,  of  doubt,  of  free  inquiry.  If  religious  enthusiasm  had 
broken  the  spell  of  ecclesiastical  tradition,  its  own  extravagance 
broke  the  spell  of  religious  enthusiasm  ;  and  the  new  generation 
turned  in  disgust  to  try  forms  of  political  government  and  spiritual 
belief  by  the  cooler  and  less  fallible  test  of  reason.  The  children 
even  of  the  leading  Puritans  stood  aloof  from  Puritanism.  The  eldest 
of  Cromwell's  sons  made  small  pretensions  to  religion.  Cromwell 
himself  in  his  later  years  felt  bitterly  that  Puritanism  had  missed 
its  aim.  He  saw  the  country  gentleman,  alienated  from  it  by  the 
despotism  it  had  brought  in  its  train,  alienated  perhaps  even  more 
by  the  appearance  of  a  religious  freedom  for  which  he  was  un- 
prepared, drifting  into  a  love  of  the  older  Church  that  he  had  once 
opposed.  He  saw  the  growth  of  a  dogged  resistance  in  the  people  at 
large.  The  attempt  to  secure  spiritual  results  by  material  force  had 
failed,  as  it  always  fails.  It  broke  down  before  the  indifference  and 
resentment  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  of  men  who  were  neither 
lawless  nor  enthusiasts,  but  who  clung  to  the  older  traditions  of  social 
order,  and  whose  humour  and  good  sense  revolted  alike  from  the 
artificial  conception  of  human  life  which  Puritanism  had  formed  and 
from  its  effort  to  force  such  a  conception  on  a  people  by  law.  It  broke 
down,  too,  before  the  corruption  of  the  Puritans  themselves.  It  was 
impossible  to  distinguish  between  the  saint  and  the  hypocrite  as  soon  as 
godliness  became  profitable.  Even  amongst  the  really  earnest  Puritans 
prosperity  disclosed  a  pride,  a  worldliness,  a  selfish  hardness  which  had 
been  hidden  in  the  hour  of  persecution.  The  tone  of  Cromwell's  later 
speeches  shows  his  consciousness  that  the  ground  was  slipping  from 
under  his  feet.  He  no  longer  dwells  on  the  dream  of  a  Puritan  Eng'and. 
of  a  nation  rising  as  a  whole  into  a  people  of  God.    He  falls  back  on  Ui« 


(X.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


609 


phrases  of  his  youth,  and  the  saints  become  again  a  "pecuhar  people," 
a  remnant,  a  fragment  among  the  nation  at  large.  But  the  influences 
which  were  really  foiling  Cromwell's  aim,  and  forming  beneath  his  eyes 
the  new  England  from  which  he  turned  in  despair,  were  influences 
whose  power  he  can  hardly  have  recognized.  Even  before  the  out- 
burst of  the  Civil  War  a  small  group  of  theological  Latitudinarians 
had  gathered  round  Lord  Falkland  at  Great  Tew.  In  the  very  year 
when  the  King's  standard  was  set  up  at  Nottingham,  Hobbes  published 
the  first  of  his  works  on  Government.  The  last  royalist  had  only  just 
laid  down  his  arms  when  the  little  company  who  were  at  a  later  time 
to  be  known  as  the  Royal  Society  gathered  round  Wilkins  at  Oxford. 
It  is  in  this  group  of  scientific  observers  that  we  catch  the  secret  of 
the  coming  generation.  From  the  vexed  problems,  political  and  re- 
ligious, with  which  it  had  so  long  wrestled  in  vain,  England  turned  at 
last  to  the  physical  world  around  it,  to  the  observation  of  its  phenomena, 
to  the  discovery  of  the  laws  which  govern  them.  The  pursuit  of  physical 
science  became  a  passion  ;  and  its  method  of  research,  by  observation, 
comparison,  and  experiment,  transformed  the  older  methods  of  inquiry 
in  matters  without  its  pale.  In  religion,  in  politics,  in  the  study  of  man 
and  of  nature,  not  faith  but  reason,  not  tradition  but  inquiry,  were  to  be 
the  watchwords  of  the  coming  time.  The  dead-weight  of  the  past  was 
suddenly  rolled  away,  and  the  new  England  heard  at  last  and  understood 
the  call  of  Francis  Bacon. 

Bacon  had  already  called  men  with  a  trumpet-voice  to  such  studies  ; 
but  in  England  at  least  Bacon  stood  before  his  age.  The  beginnings 
of  physical  science  were  more  slow  and  timid  there  than  in  any  country 
of  Europe.  Only  two  discoveries  of  any  real  value  came  from  English 
research  before  the  Restoration  ;  the  first,  Gilbert's  discovery  of 
terrestrial  magnetism  in  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign  ;  the  next,  the 
great  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  which  was  taught  by 
Harvey  in  the  reign  of  James.  Apart  from  these  illustrious  names 
England  took  little  share  in  the  scientific  movement  of  the  continent ; 
and  her  whole  energies  seemed  to  be  whirled  into  the  vortex  of  theology 
and  politics  by  the  Civil  War.  But  the  war  had  not  reached  its  end 
when  a  little  group  of  students  were  to  be  seen  in  London,  men 
"  inquisitive,"  says  one  of  them,  "  into  natural  philosophy  and  other 
parts  of  human  learning,  and  particularly  of  what  hath  been  called 
the  New  Philosophy,  .  .  .  whichfrom  the  times  of  Galileo  at  Florence, 
and  Sir  Francis  Bacon  (Lord  Verulam)  in  England,  hath  been  much 
cultivated  in  Italy,  France,  Germany,  ^nd  other  parts  abroad,  as  well 
as  with  us  in  England."  The  strife  of  the  time  indeed  aided  in 
directing  the  minds  of  men  to  natural  inquiries.  "  To  have  been 
always  tossing  about  some  theological  question,"  says  the  first  historian 
of  the  Royal  Society,  Bishop  Sprat,  "  would  have  been  to  have  made 
uiat  their  private  diversion,  the  excese  of  which  they  disliked  in  the 

X 


6io 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


public.  To  have  been  eternally  musing  on  civil  business  and  the 
distresses  of  the  country  was  too  melancholy  a  reflection.  It  was 
nature  alone  which  could  pleasantly  entertain  them  in  that  estate." 
Foremost  in  the  group  stood  Doctors  Wallis  and  Wilkins,  whose  re- 
moval to  Oxford,  which  had  just  been  reorganized  by  the  Puritan 
Visitors,  divided  the  little  company  into  two  societies.  The  Oxford 
society,  which  was  the  more  important  of  the  two,  held  its  meetings  at 
the  lodgings  of  Dr.  Wilkins,  who  had  become  Warden  of  Wadham 
College,  and  added  to  the  names  of  its  members  that  of  the  eminent 
mathematician  Dr.  Ward,  and  that  of  the  first  of  English  economists, 
Sir  William  Petty.  "  Our  business,"  Wallis  tells  us,  "  was  (precluding 
matters  of  theology  and  State  affairs)  to  discourse  and  consider  of  philo 
sophical  inquiries  and  such  as  related  thereunto,  as  Physick,  Anatomy, 
Geometry,  Astronomy,  Navigation,  Statics,  Magnetics,  Chymicks, 
Mechanicks,  and  Natural  Experiments:  with  the  state  of  these  studies, 
as  then  cultivated  at  home  and  abroad.  We  then  discoursed  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  the  valves  in  the  ven<x  lactea^  the  lymphatic 
vessels,  the  Copemican  hypothesis,  the  nature  of  comets  and  new 
stars,  the  satellites  of  Jupiter,  the  oval  shape  of  Saturn,  the  spots  in 
the  sun  and  its  turning  on  its  own  axis,  the  inequalities  and  seleno- 
graphy of  the  moon,  the  several  phases  of  Venus  and  Mercury,  the 
improvement  of  telescopes,  the  grinding  of  glasses  for  that  purpose, 
the  weight  of  air,  the  possibility  or  impossibihty  of  vacuities,  and 
Nature's  abhorrence  thereof,  the  Torricellian  experiment  in  quicksilver, 
the  descent  of  heavy  bodies  and  the  degree  of  acceleration  therein, 
and  divers  other  things  of  like  nature." 

The  other  little  company  of  inquirers,  who  remained  in  London,  was 
at  last  broken  up  by  the  troubles  of  the  Second  Protectorate  ;  but 
it  was  revived  at  the  Restoration  by  the  return  to  London  of  the  more 
eminent  members  of  the  Oxford  group.  Science  suddenly  became  the 
fashion  of  the  day.  Charles  was  himself  a  fair  chymist,  and  took  a 
keen  interest  in  the  problems  of  navigation.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham 
varied  his  freaks  of  riming,  drinking,  and  fiddling  by  fits  of  devotion 
to  his  laboratory.  Poets  like  Dryden  and  Cowley,  courtiers  like  Sir 
Robert  Murray  and  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  joined  the  scientific  company  to 
which  in  token  of  his  sympathy  with  it  the  King  gave  the  title  of"  The 
Royal  Society."  The  curious  glass  toys  called  Prince  Rupert's  drops 
recall  the  scientific  inquiries  which,  with  the  study  of  etching,  amused 
the  old  age  of  the  great  cavalry-leader  of  the  Civil  War.  Wits  and  fops 
crowded  to  the  meetings  of  the  new  Society.  Statesmen  like  Lord  Somers 
felt  honoured  at  being  chosen  its  presidents.  Its  definite  establishment 
marks  the  opening  of  a  great  age  of  scientific  discovery  in  England. 
Almost  every  year  of  the  half-century  which  followed  saw  some  step 
made  to  a  wider  and  truer  knowledge.  Our  first  national  observatory 
rose  at  Greenwich,  and  modern  astronomy  began  with  the  long  series 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


6if 


of  astronomical  observations  which  immortalized  the  name  of  Flamsteed. 
His  successor,  Halley,  undertook  the  investigation  of  the  tides,  of 
comets,  and  of  terrestrial  magnetism.  Hooke  improved  the  microscope, 
and  gave  a  fresh  impulse  to  microscopical  research.  Boyle  made  the 
air-pump  a  means  of  advancing  the  science  of  pneumatics,  and  be- 
came the  founder  of  experimental  chymistry.  Wilkins  pointed  forward 
to  the  science  of  philology  in  his  scheme  of  a  universal  language. 
Sydenham  introduced  a  careful  observation  of  nature  and  facts  which 
changed  the  whole  face  of  medicine.  The  physiological  researches  of 
Willis  first  threw  light  upon  the  structure  of  the  brain.  Woodward 
was  the  founder  of  mineralogy.  In  his  edition  of  Willoughby's 
"  Ornithology ,''  and  in  his  own  "  History  of  Fishes,"  John  Ray  was  the 
first  to  raise  zoology  to  the  rank  of  a  science ;  and  the  first  scientific 
classificationof  animals  was  attempted  in  his  "Synopsis  of  Quadrupeds." 
Modern  botany  began  with  his  "  History  of  Plants,"  and  the  researches 
of  an  Oxford  professor,  Robert  Morrison  ;  while  Grew  divided  with 
Malpighi  the  credit  of  founding  the  study  of  vegetable  physiology. 
But  great  as  some  of  these  names  undoubtedly  are,  they  are  lost  in 
the  lustre  of  Isaac  Newton.  Newton  was  born  at  Woolsthorpe  in 
Lincolnshire,  on  Christmas-day,  in  the  memorable  year  which  saw  the 
outbreak  of  the  Civil  War.  In  the  year  of  the  Restoration  he  entered 
Cambridge,  where  the  teaching  of  Isaac  Barrow  quickened  his  genius 
for  mathematics,  and  where  the  method  of  Descartes  had  superseded 
the  older  modes  of  study.  From  the  close  of  his  Cambridge  career  his 
life  became  a  series  of  great  physical  discoveries.  At  twenty-three 
he  facilitated  the  calculation  of  planetary  movements  by  his  theory  of 
Fluxions.  The  optical  discoveries  to  which  he  was  led  by  his  experi- 
ments with  the  prism,  and  which  he  partly  disclosed  in  the  lectures 
which  he  delivered  as  Mathematical  Professor  at  Cambridge,  were 
embodied  in  the  theory  of  light  which  he  laid  before  the  Royal  Society 
on  becoming  a  Fellow  of  it.  His  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation 
had  been  made  as  early  as  1666  ;  but  the  erroneous  estimate  which 
was  then  generally  received  of  the  earth's  diameter  prevented  him  from 
disclosing  it  for  sixteen  years  ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  eve  of  the 
Revolution  that  the  "  Principia  "  revealed  to  the  world  his  new  theory 
of  the  Universe. 

It  is  impossible  to  do  more  than  indicate,  in  such  a  summary  as  we 
have  given,  the  wonderful  activity  of  directly  scientific  thought  which 
distinguished  the  age  of  the  Restoration.  But  the  sceptical  and 
experimental  temper  of  mind  which  this  activity  disclosed  was  telling 
at  the  same  time  on  every  phase  of  the  world  around  it.  We  see  the 
attempt  to  bring  religious  speculation  into  harmony  with  the  con- 
clusions of  reason  and  experience  in  the  school  of  Latitudinarian 
theologians  which  sprang  from  the  group  of  thinkers  that  gathered  on 
the  eve  of  the  Civil  War  round  Lord  Falkland  at  Great  Tew.    Whatever 


6t2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


verdict  history  may  pronounce  on  Falkland's  political  career,  his  name 
must  ever  remain  memorable  in  the  history  of  religious  thought.  A 
new  era  in  English  theology  began  with  the  speculations  of  the  men 
he  gathered  round  him.  Their  work  was  above  all  to  deny  the 
authority  of  tradition  in  matters  of  faith,  as  Bacon  had  denied  it  in 
matters  of  physical  research  ;  and  to  assert  in  the  one  field  as  in  the 
other  the  supremacy  of  reason  as  a  test  of  truth.  Of  the  authority  of 
the  Church,  its  Fathers,  and  its  Councils,  John  Hales,  a  canon  of 
Windsor,  and  a  friend  of  Laud,  said  briefly  "  it  is  none."  He  dis- 
missed with  contempt  the  accepted  test  of  universality.  "  Universality 
is  such  a  proof  of  truth  as  truth  itself  is  ashamed  of.  The  most 
singular  and  strongest  part  of  human  authority  is  properly  in  the 
wisest  and  the  most  virtuous,  and  these,  I  trow,  are  not  the  most 
universal"  William  Chillingworth,  a  man  of  larger  if  not  keener 
mind,  had  been  taught  by  an  early  conversion  to  Catholicism,  and  by  a 
speedy  return,  the  insecurity  of  any  basis  for  belief  but  that  of  private 
judgment.  In  his  "  Religion  of  Protestants  "  he  set  aside  ecclesias- 
tical tradition  or  Church  authority  as  grounds  of  faith  in  favour  of  the 
Bible,  but  only  of  the  Bible  as  interpreted  by  the  common  reason  of 
men.  Jeremy  Taylor,  the  most  brilliant  of  English  preachers,  a 
sufferer  like  Chillingworth  on  the  royalist  side  during  the  troubles, 
and  who  was  rewarded  at  the  Restoration  with  the  bishopric  of  Down, 
limited  even  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  themselves.  Reason  was 
the  one  means  which  Taylor  approved  of  in  interpreting  the  Bible ; 
but  the  certainty  of  the  conclusions  which  reason  drew  from  the  Bible 
varied,  as  he  held,  with  the  conditions  of  reason  itself.  In  all  but  the 
simplest  truths  of  natural  religion  "  we  are  not  sure  not  to  be  deceived." 
The  deduction  of  points  of  belief  from  the  words  of  the  Scriptures  was 
attended  with  all  the  uncertainty  and  liability  to  error  which  sprang 
from  the  infinite  variety  of  human  understandings,  the  difficulties  which 
hinder  the  discovery  of  truth,  and  the  influences  which  divert  the  mind 
from  accepting  or  rightly  estimating  it.  It  was  plain  to  a  mind  like 
Chillingworth's  that  this  denial  of  authority,  this  perception  of  the 
imperfection  of  reason  in  the  discovery  of  absolute  truth,  struck  as 
directly  at  the  root  of  Protestant  dogmatism  as  at  the  root  of  Catholic 
infallibility.  "  If  Protestants  are  faulty  in  this  matter  [of  claiming 
authority]  it  is  for  doing  it  too  much  and  not  too  little.  This  pre- 
sumptuous imposing  of  the  senses  of  man  upon  the  words  of  God,  of 
the  special  senses  of  man  upon  the  general  words  of  God,  and  laying 
them  upon  men's  consciences  together  under  the  equal  penalty  of 
death  and  damnation,  this  vain  conceit  that  we  can  speak  of  the 
things  of  God  better  than  in  the  words  of  God,  this  deifying  our  own 
interpretations  and  tyrannous  enforcing  them  upon  o:hers,  this  re- 
straining of  the  word  of  God  from  that  latitude  and  generality,  and  the 
understandings  of  men  from  that  liberty  wherein  Christ   and  His 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


613 


apostles  left  them,  is  and  hath  been  the  only  foundation  of  all  the 
schisms  of  the  Church,  and  that  which  makes  them  immortal."  In  his 
"  Liberty  of  Prophesying"  Jeremy  Taylor  pleaded  the  cause  of  tolera- 
tion with  a  weight  of  argument  which  hardly  required  the  triumph  of 
the  Independents  and  the  shock  of  Naseby  to  drive  it  home.  But  the 
freedom  of  conscience  which  the  Independent  founded  on  the  personal 
communion  of  each  soul  with  God,  the  Latitudinarian  founded  on  the 
weakness  of  authority  and  the  imperfection  of  human  reason.  Taylor 
pleads  even  for  the  Anabaptist  and  the  Romanist.  He  only  gives 
place  to  the  action  of  the  civil  magistrate  in  "  those  religions  whose 
principles  destroy  government,"  and  "those  religions — if  there  be  any 
such — which  teach  ill  life."  Hales  openly  professed  that  he  would 
quit  the  Church  to-morrow  if  it  required  him  to  believe  that  all  that 
dissented  from  it  must  be  damned.  Chillingworth  denounced  perse- 
cution in  words  of  fire.  "  Take  away  this  persecution,  burning, 
cursing,  damning  of  men  for  not  subscribing  the  words  of  men  as  the 
words  of  God :  require  of  Christians  only  to  believe  Christ  and  to  call 
no  man  master  but  Him  ;  let  them  leave  claiming  infallibility  that 
have  no  title  to  it,  and  let  them  that  in  their  own  words  disclaim  it, 

disclaim  it  also   in  their  actions Protestants  are  inexcusable  if 

they  do  offer  violence  to  other  men's  consciences."  From  the  denun- 
ciation of  intolerance  the  Latitudinarians  passed  easily  to  the  dream 
of  comprehension  which  had  haunted  every  nobler  soul  since  the 
"  Utopia"  of  More.  Hales  based  his  loyalty  to  the  Church  of  England 
on  the  fact  that  it  was  the  largest  and  the  most  tolerant  Church  in 
Christendom.  Chillingworth  pointed  out  how  many  obstacles  to  com- 
prehension were  removed  by  such  a  simplification  of  belief  as  flowed 
from  a  rational  theology.  Like  More,  he  asked  for  "  such  an  ordering 
of  the  public  service  of  God  as  that  all  who  believe  the  Scripture  and 
live  according  to  it  might  without  scruple  or  hypocrisy  or  protestation 
in  any  part  join  in  it."  Taylor,  like  Chillingworth,  rested  his  hope  of 
union  on  the  simplification  of  belief.  He  saw  a  probability  of  error 
in  all  the  creeds  and  confessions  adopted  by  Christian  Churches. 
"Such  bodies  of  confessions  and  articles,"  he  said,  '^must  do  much 
hurt."  "  He  is  rather  the  schismatic  who  makes  unnecessary  and 
inconvenient  impositions,  than  he  who  disobeys  them  because  he  can- 
not do  otherwise  without  violating  his  conscience."  The  Apostles' 
Creed  in  its  literal  meaning  seemed  to  him  the  one  term  of  Christian 
union  which  the  Church  had  any  right  to  impose.  With  the  Restora- 
tion the  Latitudinarians  came  at  once  to  the  front.  They  were  soon 
distinguished  from  both  Puritans  and  High  Churchmen  by  their  opposi- 
tion to  dogma,  by  their  preference  of  reason  to  tradition  whether  of  the 
Bible  or  the  Church,  by  their  basing  religion  on  a  natural  theology, 
by  their  aiming  at  rightness  of  life  rather  than  at  correctness  oif 
opinion,  by  their  advocacy  of  toleration  and  comprehension   as   the 


6l4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  I. 
England 

AND  THE 

Revolution 


Hobbes 


158^.1679 


1642 


165 1 


Hit  political 
t peculations 


grounds  of  Christian  unity.  Chillingworth  and  Taylor  found  suc- 
cessors in  the  restless  good  sense  of  Burnet,  the  enlightened  piety  of 
Tillotson,  and  the  calm  philosophy  of  Bishop  Butler.  Meanwhile 
the  impulse  which  such  men  were  giving  to  religious  speculation  was 
being  given  to  political  and  social  inquiry  by  a  mind  of  far  g^reater 
keenness  and  power. 

Bacon's    favourite    secretary    was    Thomas   Hobbes.      "  He    was 
beloved  by  his  Lordship,"  Aubrey  tells  us,  "who  was  wont  to  have 
him  walk  in  his  delicate  groves,  where  he  did  meditate  ;  and  when 
a  notion  darted  into  his  mind,  Mr.  Hobbes  was  presently  to  write  it 
down.     And  his  Lordship  was  wont  to  say  that  he  did  it  better  than 
anyone  else  about  him  ;  for  that  many  times  when  he  read  their  notes 
he  scarce  understood  what  they  writ,  because  they  understood  it  not 
clearly  themselves."    The  long  life  of  Hobbes  covers  a  memorable 
space  in  our  history.     He  was  born  in  the  year  of  the  victory  over  the 
Armada  ;  he  died,  at  the  age  of  ninety-two,  only  nine  years  before  the 
Revolution.    His  ability  soon  made  itself  felt,  and  in  his  earlier  days  he 
was  the  secretary  of  Bacon,  and  the  friend  of  Ben  Jonson  and  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury.     But  it  was  not  till  the  age  of  fifty-four,  when  he 
withdrew  to  France  on  the  eve  of  the  Great  Rebellion,  that  his  specu- 
lations were  made  known  to  the  world  in  his  treatise  "  De  Cive." 
He  joined  the  exiled  Court  at  Paris,  and  became  mathematical  tutor 
to  Charles  the  Second,  whose  love  and  regard  for  him  seem  to  have 
been  real  to  the  end.     But  his  post  was  soon  forfeited  by  the  appear- 
ance of  his  "Leviathan";  he  was  forbidden  to  approach  the  Court, 
and  returned  to  England,  where  he  seems  to  have  acquiesced  in  the 
rule  of  Cromwell.     The  Restoration  brought  him  a  pension  ;  but  both 
his  works  were  condemned  by  Parliament,  and  "  Hobbism"  became, 
ere  he  died,  the  popular  synonym  for  irreligion  and  immorality.     Pre- 
judice of  this  kind  sounded  oddly  in  the  case  of  a  writer  who  had  laid 
down,  as  the  two  things  necessary  to  salvation,  faith  in  Christ  and 
obedience  to  the  law.     But  the  prejudice  sprang  from  a  true  sense  of 
the  effect  which  the  Hobbist  philosophy  must  necessarily  have  on  the 
current  religion  and  the  current  notions  of  political  and  social  morality. 
Hobbes  was  the  first  great  English  writer  who  dealt  with  the  science 
of  government  from  the  ground,  not  of  tradition,  but  of  reason.     It 
was  in  his  treatment  of  man  in  the  stage  of  human  developement 
which  he  supposed  to  precede  that  of  society  that  he  came  most  roughly 
into  conflict  with  the  accepted  beliefs.     Men,  in  his  theory,  were  by 
nature  equal,  and  their  only  natural  relation  was  a  state  of  war.     It 
was  no  innate  virtue  of  man  himself  which  created  human  society  out 
of  this  chaos  of  warring  strengths.    Hobbes  in  fact  denied  the  existence 
of  the  more  spiritual  sides  of  man's  nature.     His  hard  and  narrow  logic 
dissected  every  human  custom  and  desire,  and  reduced  even  the  most 
sacred  to  demonstrations  of  a  prudent  selfishness.     Friendship  was 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


6is 


simply  a  sense  of  social  utility  to  one  another.  The  so-called  laws  of 
nature,  such  as  gratitude  or  the  love  of  our  neighbour,  were  in  fact 
contrary  to  the  natural  passions  of  man,  and  powerless  to  restrain 
them.  Nor  had  religion  rescued  man  by  the  interposition  of  a  Divine 
will.  Nothing  better  illustrates  the  daring  with  which  the  new  scepti- 
cism was  to  break  through  the  theological  traditions  of  the  older 
world  than  the  pitiless  logic  with  which  Hobbes  assailed  the  very 
theory  of  revelation.  "  To  say  God  hath  spoken  to  man  in  a  dream, 
is  no  more  than  to  say  man  dreamed  that  God  hath  spoken  to  him." 
"  To  say  one  hath  seen  a  vision,  or  heard  a  voice,  is  to  say  he  hath 
dreamed  between  sleeping  and  waking."  Religion,  in  fact,  was  nothing 
more  than  "  the  fear  of  invisible  powers  ; "  and  here,  as  in  all  other 
branches  of  human  science,  knowledge  dealt  with  words  and  not 
with  things.  It  was  man  himself  who  for  his  own  profit  created 
society,  by  laying  down  certain  of  his  natural  rights  and  retaining 
only  those  of  self-preservation.  A  Covenant  between  inan  and  man 
originally  created  "  that  great  Leviathan  called  the  Commonwealth  or 
State,  which  is  but  an  artificial  man,  though  of  greater  stature  and 
strength  than  the  natural,  for  whose  protection  and  defence  it  was 
intended,"  The  fiction  of  such  an  "  original  contract "  has  long  been 
dismissed  from  political  speculation,  but  its  effect  at  the  time  of  its 
first  appearance  was  immense.  Its  almost  universal  acceptance  put 
an  end  to  the  religious  and  patriarchal  theories  of  society,  on  which 
Kingship  had  till  now  founded  its  claim  of  a  Divine  right  to  authority 
which  no  subject  might  question.  But  if  Hobbes  destroyed  the  old 
ground  of  royal  despotism,  he  laid  a  new  and  a  firmer  one.  To 
create  a  society  at  all,  he  held  that  the  whole  body  of  the  governed 
must  have  resigned  all  rights  save  that  of  self-preservation  into  the 
hands  of  a  single  ruler,  who  was  the  representative  of  all.  Such  a 
ruler  was  absolute,  for  to  make  terms  with  him  implied  a  man  making 
terms  with  himself.  The  transfer  of  rights  was  inalienable,  and  after 
generations  wer6  as  much  bound  by  it  as  the  generation  which  made 
the  transfer.  As  the  head  of  the  whole  body,  the  ruler  judged  every 
question,  settled  the  laws  of  civil  justice  or  injustice,  or  decided  between 
religion  and  superstition.  His  was  a  Divine  Right,  and  the  only  Divine 
Right,  because  in  him  were  absorbed  all  the  rights  of  each  of  his  sub- 
jects. It  was  not  in  any  constitutional  check  that  Hobbes  looked  for 
the  prevention  of  tyranny,  but  in  the  common  education  and  enlighten- 
ment as  to  their  real  end  and  the  best  mode  of  reaching  it  on  the  part 
of  both  subjects  and  Prince.  And  the  real  end  of  both  was  the  weal 
of  the  Commonwealth  at  large.  It  was  in  laying  boldly  down  this  end 
of  government,  as  well  as  in  the  basis  of  contract  on  which  he  made 
government  repose,  that  Hobbes  really  influenced  all  later  politics. 
Locke,  the  foremost  political  thinker  of  the  Restoration,  derived 
political  authority,  like  Hobbes,  from  the  consent  of  the  governed, 


6i6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


Sec.  I. 
England 

AND    THE 

Revolution 


The 
Restora- 
tion 


and  adopted  the  common  weal  as  the  end  of  Government.  But  the 
practical  temper  of  the  time  moulded  the  new  theory  into  a  form 
which  contrasted  strangely  with  that  given  to  it  by  its  first  inventor. 
The  political  philosophy  of  Locke  indeed  was  little  more  than  a  formal 
statement  of  the  conclusions  which  the  bulk  of  Englishmen  had  drawn 
from  the  great  struggle  of  the  Civil  War.  In  his  theory  the  people 
remain  passively  in  possession  of  the  power  which  they  have  delegated 
to  the  Prince,  and  have  the  right  to  withdraw  it  if  it  be  used  for  pur- 
poses inconsistent  with  the  end  which  society  was  formed  to  promote. 
To  the  origin  of  all  power  in  the  people,  and  the  end  of  all  power  for 
the  people's  good — the  two  great  doctrines  of  Hobbes — Locke  added 
the  right  of  resistance,  the  responsibility  of  princes  to  their  subjects 
for  a  due  execution  of  their  trust,  and  the  supremacy  of  legislative 
assemblies  as  the  voice  of  the  people  itself.  It  was  in  this  modified 
and  enlarged  form  that  the  new  political  philosophy  found  general 
acceptance  after  the  Revolution  of  1688. 


Section  II.— The  Restoration.    1660— 1667. 

[Authorities. — Clarendon's  detailed  account  of  his  own  ministry  in  his  "Life," 
Bishop  Kennet's  "  Register,"  and  Burnet's  lively  '*  Hi-toryof  myown  Times," 
are  our  principal  sources  of  information.  We  may  add  fragments  of  the  auto- 
biography of  James  the  Second  preserved  in  Macpherson's  "Original  Papers" 
(of  very  various  degrees  of  value.)  For  the  relations  of  the  Church  and  the 
Dissenters,  see  Neal's  "  History  of  the  Puritans,"  Calamy's  "  Memoirs  of  the 
Ejected  Ministers,"  Mr.  Dixon's  "Life  of  William  Penn,"  Baxter's  "Auto- 
biography," and  Bunyan's  account  of  his  sufferings  in  his  various  works.  The 
social  hi  tory  of  the  time  is  admirably  given  by  Pepys  in  his  "Memoirs." 
Throughout  the  whole  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  "Constitutional 
History"  of  Mr.  Hallam  is  singularly  judicious  and  full  in  its  information.] 

When  Charles  the  Second  entered  Whitehall,  the  work  of  the  Long 
Parliament  seemed  undone.  Not  only  was  the  Monarchy  restored, 
but  it  was  restored,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale, 
without  written  restriction  or  condition  on  the  part  of  the  people, 
though  with  implied  conditions  on  the  part  of  Charles  himself; 
and  of  the  two  great  influences  which  had  hitherto  ser^'ed  as 
checks  on  its  power,  the  first,  that  of  Puritanism,  had  become 
hateful  to  the  nation  at  large,  while  the  second,  the  tradition 
of  constitutional  liberty,  was  discredited  by  the  issue  of  the  Civil 
War.  But  amidst  all  the  tumult  of  demonstrative  loyalty  the  great 
"  revolution  of  the  seventeenth  century,"  as  it  has  justly  been  styled, 
went  steadily  on.  The  supreme  power  was  gradually  transferred  from 
the  Crown  to  the  I  louse  of  Commons.  Step  by  step.  Parliament  drew 
nearer  to  a  solution  of  the  political  problem  which  had  so  long  foiled 
its  efforts,  the  problem  how  to  make  its  will  the  law  of  administrative 
action  without  itself  undertaking  the  task  of  administration.    It  is  only 


V 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


617 


by  carefully  fixing  our  eyes  on  this  transfer  of  power,  and  by  noting  the 
successive  steps  towards  its  realization,  that  we  can  understand  the 
complex  history  of  the  Restoration  and  the  Revolution. 

The  first  acts  of  the  new  Government  showed  a  sense  that,  loyal  as 
was  the  temper  of  the  nation,  its  loyalty  was  by  no  means  the  blind 
devotion  of  the  Cavalier.  The  chief  part  in  the  Restoration  had  in 
fact  been  played  by  the  Presbyterians  ;  and  the  Presbyterians  were 
still  powerful  from  their  almost  exclusive  possession  of  the  magistracy 
and  all  local  authority.  The  first  ministry  which  Charles  ventured  to 
form  bore  on  it  the  marks  of  a  compromise  between  this  powerful 
party  and  their  old  opponents.  Its  most  influential  member  indeed 
was  Sir  Edward  Hyde,  the  adviser  of  the  King  during  his  exile,  who 
soon  became  Earl  of  Clarendon  and  Lord  Chancellor.  Lord  South- 
ampton, a  steady  royalist,  accepted  the  post  of  Lord  Treasurer  ;  and 
the  devotion  of  Ormond  was  rewarded  with  a  dukedom  and  the  dignity 
of  Lord  Steward.  But  the  purely  Parliamentary  interest  was  repre- 
sented by  Monk,  who  remained  Lord-General  of  the  army  with  the  title 
of  Duke  of  Albemarle  ;  and  though  the  King's  brother,  James,  Duke 
of  York,  was  made  Lord  Admiral,  the  administration  of  the  fleet  was 
virtually  in  the  hands  of  one  of  Cromwell' s  followers,  Montagu,  the 
new  Earl  of  Sandwich.  An  old  Puritan,  Lord  Say  and  Sele,  was  made 
Lord  Privy  Seal.  Sir  Ashley  Cooper,  a  leading  member  of  the  same 
party,  was  rewarded  for  his  activity  in  bringing  about  the  Restoration 
first  by  a  Privy  Councillorship,  and  soon  after  by  a  barony  and  the 
office  of  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Of  the  two  Secretaries  of 
State,  the  one,  Nicholas,  was  a  devoted  royalist ;  the  other,  Morice, 
was  a  steady  Presbyterian.  Of  the  thirty  members  of  the  Privy  Council, 
twelve  had  borne  arms  against  the  King. 

It  was  clear  that  such  a  ministry  was  hardly  likely  to  lend  itself  to  a 
mere  policy  of  reaction,  and  the  temper  of  the  new  Government  there- 
fore fell  fairly  in  with  the  temper  of  the  Convention  when  that  body, 
after  declaring  itself  a  Parhament,  proceeded  to  consider  the  measures 
which  were  requisite  for  a  settlement  of  the  nation.  The  Convention 
had  been  chosen  under  the  ordinances  which  excluded  royalist 
"  Malignants"  from  the  right  of  voting  ;  and  the  bulk  of  its  members 
were  men  of  Presbyterian  sympathies,  loyalist  to  the  core,  but  as 
averse  to  despotism  as  the  Long  Parliament  itself.  In  its  earlier  days 
a  member  who  asserted  that  those  who  had  fought  against  the  King 
were  as  guilty  as  those  who  cut  off  his  head  was  sternly  rebuked  from 
the  Chair.  The  first  measure  which  was  undertaken  by  the  House, 
the  Bill  of  Indemnity  and  Oblivion  for  all  offences  committed  during 
the  recent  troubles,  showed  at  once  the  moderate  character  of  the 
Commons.  In  the  punishment  of  the  Regicides  indeed,  a  Presby- 
terian might  well  be  as  zealous  as  a  Cavalier.  In  spite  of  a  Proclama- 
tion he  had  issued  in  the  first  days  of^his  return,  in  which  mercy  was 


6i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  II. 

The 
Restora- 
tion 

1660 

TO 

1667 


Settlement 
of  the 
Nation 


virtually  promised  to  all  the  judges  of  the  late  King  who  surrendered 
themselves  to  justice,  Charles  pressed  for  revenge  on  those  whom  he 
regarded  as  his  father's  murderers,  and  the  Lords  went  hotly  with  the 
King.  It  is  to  the  credit  of  the  Commons  that  they  steadily  resisted 
the  cry  for  blood.  By  the  original  provisions  of  the  Bill  of  Oblivion 
and  Indemnity  only  seven  of  the  living  regicides  were  excluded  from 
pardon  ;  and  though  the  rise  of  royalist  fervour  during  the  three 
months  in  which  the  bill  was  under  discussion  forced  the  House  in 
the  end  to  leave  almost  all  to  the  course  of  justice,  the  requirement  of 
a  special  Act  of  Parliament  for  the  execution  of  those  who  had  surren- 
dered under  the  Proclamation  protected  the  lives  of  most  of  them. 
Twenty-eight  of  the  King's  judges  -were  in  the  end  arraigned  at  the 
bar  of  a  court  specially  convened  for  their  trial,  but  only  thirteen  were 
executed,  and  only  one  of  these.  General  Harrison,  had  played  any 
conspicuous  part  in  the  rebellion.  Twenty  others,  who  had  been  pro- 
minent in  what  were  now  called  "  the  troubles  "  of  the  past  twenty 
years,  were  declared  incapable  of  holding  office  under  the  State :  and 
by  an  unjustifiable  clause  which  was  introduced  into  the  Act  before  its 
final  adoption.  Sir  Harry  Vane  and  General  Lambert,  though  they  had 
taken  no  part  in  the  King's  death,  were  specially  exempted  from  the 
general  pardon.  In  dealing  with  the  questions  of  property  which  arose 
from  the  confiscations  and  transfers  of  estates  during  the  Civil  Wars 
the  Convention  met  with  greater  difficulties.  No  opposition  was  made 
to  the  resumption  of  all  Crown-lands  by  the  State,  but  the  Convention 
desired  to  protect  the  rights  of  those  who  had  purchased  Church  pro- 
perty, and  of  those  who  were  in  actual  possession  of  private  estates 
which  had  been  confiscated  by  the  Long  Parliament,  or  by  the  Govern- 
ment which  succeeded  it.  The  bills  however  which  they  prepared  for 
this  purpose  were  delayed  by  the  artifices  of  Hyde  ;  and  at  the  close  of 
the  session  the  bishops  and  the  evicted  royalists  quietly  re-entered  into 
the  occupation  of  their  old  possessions.  The  royalists  indeed  were 
far  from  being  satisfied  with  this  summary  confiscation.  Fines  and 
sequestrations  had  impoverished  all  the  steady  adherents  of  the  royal 
cause,  and  had  driven  many  of  them  to  forced  sales  of  their  estates  ; 
and  a  demand  was  made  for  compensation  for  their  losses  and  the 
cancelling  of  these  sales.  Without  such  provisions,  said  the  frenzied 
Cavaliers,  the  bill  would  be  "a  Bill  of  Indemnity  for  the  Kings 
enemies,  and  of  Oblivion  for  his  friends."  But  here  the  Convention 
stood  firm.  All  transfers  of  property  by  sale  were  recognized  as  valid, 
and  all  claims  of  compensation  for  losses  by  sequestration  were  barred 
by  the  Act.  From  the  settlement  of  the  nation  the  Convention  passed 
to  the  settlement  of  the  relations  between  the  nation  and  the  Crown. 
So  far  was  the  constitutional  work  of  the  Long  Parliament  from  being 
undone,  that  its  more  important  measures  were  silently  accepted  as 
]  the  base  of  future  government.     Not  a  voice  demanded  the  restoration 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


619 


of  the  Star  Chamber,  or  of  monopolies,  or  of  the  Court  of  High  Com- 
mission ;  no  one  disputed  the  justice  of  the  condemnation  of  Ship- 
money,  or  the  assertion  of  the  sole  right  of  Parliament  to  grant 
supplies  to  the  Crown.  The  Militia,  indeed,  was  placed  in  the  King's 
hands ;  but  the  army  was  disbanded,  though  Charles  was  permitted 
to  keep  a  few  regiments  for  his  guard.  The  revenue  was  fixed  at 
;^  1,200,000  ;  and  this  sum  was  granted  to  the  King  for  life,  a  grant 
which  might  have  been  perilous  for  freedom  had  not  the  taxes  provided 
to  supply  the  sum  fallen  constantly  below  this  estimate,  while  the 
current  expenses  of  the  Crown,  even  in  time  of  peace,  greatly  exceeded 
it.  But  even  for  this  grant  a  heavy  price  was  exacted.  Though  the 
rights  of  the  Crown  over  lands  held,  as  the  bulk  of  Enghsh  estates 
were  held,  in  military  tenure,  had  ceased  to  be  of  any  great  pecuniary 
value,  they  were  indirectly  a  source  of  considerable  power.  The  right 
of  wardship  and  of  marriage,  above  all,  enabled  the  sovereign  to  ex- 
ercise a  galling  pressure  on  every  landed  proprietor  in  his  social  and 
domestic  concerns.  Under  Elizabeth,  the  right  of  wardship  had  been 
used  to  secure  the  education  of  all  Catholic  minors  in  the  Protestant 
faith ;  and  under  James  and  his  successor  the  charge  of  minors  had 
been  granted  to  court  favourites  or  sold  in  open  market  to  the  highest 
bidder.  But  the  real  value  of  these  rights  to  the  Crown  lay  in  the 
political  pressure  which  it  was  able  to  exert  through  them  on  the 
country  gentry.  A  squire  was  naturally  eager  to  buy  the  good  will  of 
a  sovereign  who  might  soon  be  the  guardian  of  his  daughter  and  the 
administrator  of  his  estate.  But  the  same  motives  which  made  the 
Crown  cling  to  this  prerogative  made  the  Parliament  anxious  to  do 
away  with  it.  Its  efforts  to  bring  this  about  under  James  the  First  had 
been  foiled  by  the  King's  stubborn  resistance  ;  but  the  long  interrup- 
tion of  these  rights  during  the  wars  made  their  revival  almost  impos- 
sible at  the  Restoration.  One  of  the  first  acts  therefore  of  the 
Convention  was  to  free  the  country  gentry  by  abolishing  the  claims  of 
the  Crown  to  reliefs  and  wardship,  purveyance,  and  pre-emption,  and 
by  the  conversion  of  lands  held  till  then  in  chivalry  into  lands  held  in 
common  socage.  In  lieu  of  his  rights,  Charles  accepted  a  grant  of 
^100,000  a  year  ;  a  sum  which  it  was  originally  purposed  to  raise  by  a 
tax  on  the  lands  thus  exempted  from  feudal  exactions  ;  but  which  was 
provided  for  in  the  end,  with  less  justice,  by  a  general  excise. 

Successful  as  the  Convention  had  been  in  effecting  the  settlement  of 
pohtical  matters,  it  failed  in  bringing  about  a  settlement  of  the  Church. 
In  his  proclamation  from  Breda  Charles  had  promised  to  respect 
liberty  of  conscience,  and  to  assent  to  any  Acts  of  Parliament  which 
should  be  presented  to  him  for  its  security.  The  Convention  was  in 
the  main  Presbyterian  ;  but  it  soon  became  plain  that  the  continuance 
of  a  purely  Presbyterian  system  was  impossible.  "  The  generality  of 
the  people,"  wrote  Sharpe,  a  shrewd  Scotch  observer,  from  London, 


620 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAr. 


"  are  doting  after  Prelacy  and  the  Service-book."  The  Convention, 
however,  still  hoped  for  some  modified  form  of  Episcopalian  govern- 
ment which  would  enable  the  bulk  of  the  Puritan  party  to  remain 
within  the  Church.  A  large  part  of  the  existing  clergy,  indeed,  were 
Independents,  and  for  these  no  compromise  with  Episcopacy  was 
possible :  but  the  greater  number  were  moderate  Presbyterians,  who 
were  ready  "  for  fear  of  worse  "  to  submit  to  such  a  plan  of  Church 
government  as  Archbishop  Usher  had  proposed,  a  plan  in  which  the 
bishop  was  only  the  president  of  a  diocesan  board  of  presbyters,  and 
to  accept  the  Liturgy  with  a  few  amendments  and  the  omission  of  the 
"  superstitious  practices."  It  was  to  a  compromise  of  this  kind  that  the 
King  himself  leant  at  the  beginning ;  and  a  royal  declaration  which 
announced  his  approval  of  the  Puritan  demands  was  read  at  a  con- 
ference of  the  two  parties,  and  with  it  a  petition  from  the  Independents 
praying  for  religious  liberty.  The  King  proposed  to  grant  the  prayer 
of  the  petition,  not  for  the  Independents  only  but  for  all  Christians  ; 
but  on  the  point  of  tolerating  the  Catholics,  Churchmen  and  Puritans 
were  at  one,  and  a  bill  which  was  introduced  into  the  House  of  Com- 
mons by  Sir  Matthew  Hale  to  turn  the  declaration  into  a  law  was 
thrown  out.  A  fresh  conference  was  promised,  but  in  the  absence  of 
any  Parliamentary  action  the  Episcopal  party  boldly  availed  them- 
selves of  their  legal  rights.  The  ejected  clergy  who  still  remained 
alive  entered  again  into  their  parsonages,  the  bishops  returned  to  their 
sees,  and  the  dissolution  of  the  Convention-Parliament  destroyed  the 
last  hope  of  an  ecclesiastical  compromise.  The  tide  of  loyalty  had  in 
fact  been  rising  fast  during  its  session,  and  its  influence  was  already 
seen  in  a  shameful  outrage  wrought  under  the  very  orders  of  the  Con- 
vention itself.  The  bodies  of  Cromwell,  Bradshaw,  and  Ireton  were 
torn  from  their  graves  and  hung  on  gibbets  at  Tyburn,  while  those  of 
Pym  and  Blake  were  cast  out  of  Westminster  Abbey  into  St.  Margaret's 
churchyard.  But  in  the  elections  for  the  new  Parliament  the  zeal  for 
Church  and  King  swept  all  hope  of  moderation  and  compromise  before 
it.  "  Malignity  "  had  now  ceased  to  be  a  crime,  and  voters  long  de- 
prived of  the  suffrage,  vicars,  country  gentlemen,  farmers,  with  the 
whole  body  of  the  Catholics,  rushed  again  to  the  poll.  The  Presbyterians 
sank  in  the  Cavalier  Parliament  to  a  handful  of  fifty  members.  The 
new  House  of  Commons  was  made  up  for  the  most  part  of  young  men, 
of  men,  that  is,  who  had  but  a  faint  memory  of  the  Stuart  tyranny  of 
their  childhood,  but  who  had  a  keen  memory  of  living  from  manhood 
beneath  the  tyranny  of  the  Commonwealth.  Their  very  bearing  was 
that  of  wild  revolt  against  the  Puritan  past.  To  a  staid  observer, 
Roger  Pepys,  they  seemed  a  following  of  "  the  most  profane,  swearing 
fellows  that  ever  I  heard  in  my  life."  The  zeal  of  the  Parliament  at 
its  outset,  indeed,  far  outran  that  of  Charles  or  his  ministers.  Though 
it  confirmed   the  other  acts  of  the  Convention,  it  could  with  diffi- 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


621 


culty  be  brought  to  confirm  the  Act  of  Indemnity.  The  Commons 
pressed  for  the  prosecution  of  Vane.  Vane  was  protected  ahke  by 
the  spirit  of  the  law  and  by  the  King's  pledge  to  the  Convention  that, 
even  if  convicted  of  treason,  he  would  not  suffer  him  to  be  brought  to 
the  block.  But  he  was  now  brought  to  trial  on  the  charge  of  treason 
against  a  King  "  kept  out  of  his  royal  authority  by  traitors  and  rebels," 
and  his  spirited  defence  served  as  an  excuse  for  his  execution.  "  He 
is  too  dangerous  a  man  to  let  live,"  Charles  wrote  with  characteristic 
coolness,  "  if  we  can  safely  put  him  out  of  the  way."  But  the  new 
members  were  yet  better  churchmen  than  loyalists.  A  common 
suffering  had  thrown  the  ^quires  and  the  Episcopalian  clergy  together, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  the  Reformation  the  English  gentry  were 
ardent  not  for  King  only,  but  for  Church  and  King.  At  the  opening  of 
their  session  the  Commons  ordered  every  member  to  receive  the 
communion,  and  the  League  and  Covenant  to  be  solemnly  burnt  by 
the  common  hangman  in  Westminster  Hall.  The  bill  excluding 
bishops  from  the  House  of  Lords  was  repealed.  The  conference  at 
the  Savoy  between  the  Episcopalians  and  Presbyterians  broke  up  in 
anger,  and  the  few  alterations  made  in  the  Liturgy  were  made  with 
a  view  to  disgust  rather  than  to  conciliate  the  Puritan  party. 

The  temper  of  the  new  Parliament,  however,  was  not  a  mere  temper 
of  revenge.  Its  wish  was  to  restore  the  constitutional  system  which 
the  civil  war  had  violently  interrupted,  and  the  royalists  were  led  by 
the  most  active  of  the  constitutional  loyalists  who  had  followed  Falk- 
land in  1642,  Hyde,  now  Earl  of  Clarendon  and  Lord  Chancellor.  The 
Parliament  and  the  Church  were  in  his  conception  essential  parts  of  the 
system  of  English  government,  through  which  the  power  of  the  Crown 
was  to  be  exercized  ;  and  under  his  guidance  Parhament  turned  to  the 
carrying  out  of  the  principle  of  uniformity  in  Church  as  well  as  in  State 
on  which  the  minister  was  resolved.  The  chief  obstacle  to  such  a  policy 
lay  in  the  Presbyterians,  and  the  strongholds  of  this  party  were  in  the 
corporations  of  the  boroughs,  which  practically  returned  the  borough 
members.  An  attempt  was  made  to  drive  the  Presbyterians  from 
municipal  posts  by  a  severe  Corporation  Act,  which  required  a  re- 
ception of  the  Communion  according  to  the  rites  of  the  Anglican 
Church,  a  renunciation  of  the  League  and  Covenant,  and  a  declaration 
that  it  was  unlawful  on  any  grounds  to  take  up  arms  against  the  King, 
before  admission  to  municipal  offices.  A  more  deadly  blow  was  dealt 
at  the  Puritans  in  the  renewal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  Not  only 
was  the  use  of  the  Prayer-book,  and  the  Prayer-book  only,  enforced 
in  all  public  worship,  but  an  unfeigned  consent  and  assent  was  de- 
manded from  every  minister  of  the  Church  to  all  which  was  contained 
in  it ;  while,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Reformation,  all  orders  save 
those  conferred  by  the  hands  of  bishops  were  legally  disallowed.  The 
declaration  exacted  from  corporations  was  exacted  from  the  clergy, 


622 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


and  a  pledge  was  required  that  they  would  seek  to  make  no  change  in 
Church  or  State.  It  was  in  vain  that  Ashley  opposed  the  bill  fiercely 
in  the  Lords,  that  the  peers  pleaded  for  pensions  to  the  ejected  ministers 
and  for  the  exemption  of  schoolmasters  from  the  necessity  of  subscrip- 
tion, and  that  even  Clarendon,  who  felt  that  the  King's  word  was  at 
stake,  pressed  for  the  insertion  of  clauses  enabling  the  Crown  to  grant 
dispensations  from  its  provisions.  Every  suggestion  of  compromise  was 
rejected  by  the  Commons  ;  and  Charles  at  last  assented  to  the  bill,  while 
he  promised  to  suspend  its  execution  by  the  exercize  of  his  prerogative. 
The  Anglican  Parliament  however  was  resolute  to  enforce  the  law  ; 
and  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  the  last  day  allowed  for  compliance  with 
its  requirements,  nearly  two  thousand  rectors  and  vicars,  or  about  a 
fifth  of  the  English  clergy,  were  driven  from  their  parishes  as  Noncon- 
formists. No  such  sweeping  alteration  in  the  religious  aspect  of  the 
Church  had  ever  been  seen  before.  The  changes  of  the  Reformation 
had  been  brought  about  with  little  change  in  the  clergy  itself.  Even 
the  severities  of  the  High  Commission  under  Elizabeth  ended  in  the 
expulsion  of  a  few  hundreds.  If  Laud  had  gone  zealously  to  work  in 
emptying  Puritan  pulpits,  his  zeal  had  been  to  a  great  extent  foiled 
by  the  restrictions  of  the  law  and  by  the  growth  of  Puritan  sentiment 
in  the  clergy  as  a  whole.  A  far  wider  change  had  been  brought  about 
by  the  Civil  War  ;  but  the  change  had  been  gradual,  and  had  osten- 
sibly been  wrought  for  the  most  part  on  political  or  moral  rather  than 
on  religious  grounds.  The  parsons  expelled  were  expelled  as  "  malig- 
nants  "  or  as  unfitted  for  their  office  by  idleness  or  vice  or  inability  to 
preach.  But  the  change  wrought  by  St.  Bartholomew's  day  was  a 
distinctly  religious  change,  and  it  was  a  change  which  in  its  sudden- 
ness and  completeness  stood  utterly  alone.  The  rectors  and  vicars  who 
were  driven  out  were  the  most  learned  and  the  most  active  of  their 
order.  The  bulk  of  the  great  livings  throughout  the  country  were  in 
their  hands.  They  stood  at  the  head  of  the  London  clergy,  as  the 
London  clergy  stood  in  general  repute  at  the  head  of  their  class 
throughout  England.  They  occupied  the  higher  posts  at  the  two 
Universities.  No  English  divine,  save  Jeremy  Taylor,  rivalled  Howe 
as  a  preacher.  No  parson  was  so  renowned  a  controversialist,  or  so 
indefatigable  a  parish  priest,  as  Baxter.  And  behind  these  men  stood 
a  fifth  of  the  whole  body  of  the  clergy,  men  whose  zeal  and  labour  had 
diffused  throughout  the  country  a  greater  appearance  of  piety  and 
religion  than  it  had  ever  displayed  before.  But  the  expulsion  of  these 
men  was  far  more  to  the  Church  of  England  than  the  loss  of  their 
individual  services.  It  was  the  definite  expulsion  of  a  great  party 
which  from  the  time  of  the  Reformation  had  played  the  most  active 
and  popular  part  in  the  life  of  the  Church.  It  was  the  close  of  an 
effort  which  had  been  going  on  ever  since  Elizabeth's  accession  to 
bring  the  English  Communion  into  closer  relations  with  the  Reformed 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


623 


Communions  of  the  Continent,  and  into  greater  harmony  with  the 
religious  instincts  of  the  nation  at  large.  The  Church  of  England 
stood  from  that  moment  isolated  and  alone  among  all  the  Churches  of 
the  Christian  world.  The  Reformation  had  severed  it  irretrievably 
from  those  which  still  clung  to  the  obedience  of  the  Papacy.  By  its 
rejection  of  all  but  episcopal  orders,  the  Act  of  Uniformity  severed  it 
as  irretrievably  from  the  general  body  of  the  Protestant  Churches, 
whether  Lutheran  or  Reformed.  And  while  thus  cut  off  from  all 
healthy  religious  communion  with  the  world  without,  it  sank  into 
immobility  within.  With  the  expulsion  of  the  Puritan  clergy,  all 
change,  all  efforts  after  reform,  all  national  developement,  suddenly 
stopped.  From  that  time  to  this  the  Episcopal  Church  has  been 
unable  to  meet  the  varying  spiritual  needs  of  its  adherents  by  any 
modification  of  its  government  or  its  worship.  It- stands  alone  among 
all  the  rehgious  bodies  of  Western  Christendom  in  its  failure  through 
two  hundred  years  to  devise  a  single  new  service  of  prayer  or  of  praise. 
But  if  the  issues  of  St.  Bartholomew's  day  have  been  harmful  to  the 
spiritual  life  of  the  English  Church,  they  have  been  in  the  highest 
degree  advantageous  to  the  cause  of  religious  liberty.  At  the  Restora- 
tion religious  freedom  seemed  again  to  have  been  lost.  Only  the 
Independents  and  a  few  despised  sects,  such  as  the  Quakers,  upheld 
the  right  of  every  man  to  worship  God  according  to  the  bidding  of  his 
own  conscience.  The  bulk  of  the  Puritan  party,  with  the  Presbyterians 
at  its  head,  was  at  one  with  its  opponents  in  desiring  a  uniformity  of 
worship,  if  not  of  belief,  throughout  the  land  ;  and,  had  the  two  great 
parties  within  the  Church  held  together,  their  weight  would  have  been 
almost  irresistible.  Fortunately  the  great  severance  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew's day  drove  out  the  Presbyterians  from  the  Church  to  which  they 
clung,  and  forced  them  into  a  general  union  with  sects  which  they  had 
hated  till  then  almost  as  bitterly  as  the  bishops  themselves.  A  common 
suffering  soon  blended  the  Nonconformists  into  one.  Persecution 
broke  down  before  the  numbers,  the  wealth,  and  the  political  weight  of 
the  new  sectarians  ;  and  the  Church,  for  the  first  time  in  its  history, 
found  itself  confronted  with  an  organized  body  of  Dissenters  without 
its  pale.  The  impossibility  of  crushing  such  a  body  as  this  wrested 
from  English  statesmen  the  first  legal  recognition  of  freedom  of 
worship  in  the  Toleration  Act ;  their  rapid  growth  in  later  times  has 
by  degrees  stripped  the  Church  of  almost  all  the  exclusive  privileges 
which  it  enjoyed  as  a  religious  body,  and  now  threatens  what  remains 
of  its  official  connexion  with  the  State.  With  these  remoter  conse- 
quences however  we  are  not  as  yet  concerned.  It  is  enough  to  note 
here  that  with  the  Act  of  Uniformity  and  the  expulsion  of  the  Puritan 
clergy  a  new  element  in  our  religious  and  political  history,  the  element 
of  Dissent,  the  influence  of  the  Nonconformist  churches,  comes  first 
into  play. 


624 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  II. 

The 
Resiora- 

TION 

1660 

TO 

1667 

The 
Persecu- 
tion 

First 
Declaration 

Indulgence 
1662 


C0H7>enticle 

Act 

1664 


1665 


The  sudden  outbreak  and  violence  of  the  persecution  turned  the 
disappointment  of  the  Presbyterians  into  despair.  Many  were  for 
retiring  to  Holland,  others  proposed  flight  to  New  England  and  the 
American  colonies.  Charles  however  was  anxious  to  use  the  strife 
between  the  two  great  bodies  of  Protestants  so  as  to  secure  toleration 
for  the  Catholics,  and  revive  at  the  same  time  his  prerogative  of  dis- 
pensing with  the  execution  of  laws  ;  and  fresh  hopes  of  protection  were 
raised  by  a  royal  proclamation,  which  expressed  the  King's  resolve  to 
exempt  from  the  penalties  of  the  Act,  "  those  who,  living  peaceably,  do 
not  conform  themselves  thereunto,  through  scruple  and  tenderness  of 
misguided  conscience,  but  modestly  and  without  scandal  perform  their 
devotions  in  their  own  way."  A  bill  introduced  in  1663,  in  redemption  of 
a  pledge  in  the  declaration  itself,  gave  Charles  the  power  to  dispense,  not 
only  with  the  provisions  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  but  with  the  penalties 
provided  by  all  laws  which  enforced  religious  conformity,  or  which  im- 
posed religious  tests.  But  if  the  Presbyterian  leaders  in  the  council  had 
stooped  to  accept  the  aid  of  the  declaration,  the  bulk  of  the  Dissidents 
had  no  mind  to  have  their  grievances  used  as  a  means  of  procuring  by 
a  side  wind  toleration  for  Roman  Catholics,  or  of  building  up  again  that 
dispensing  power  which  the  civil  wars  had  thrown  down.  The  Church- 
men, too,  whose  hatred  for  the  Dissidents  had  been  embittered  by 
suspicions  of  a  secret  league  between  the  Dissidents  and  the  Catholics 
in  which  the  King  was  taking  part,  were  resolute  in  opposition.  The 
Houses  therefore  struck  simultaneously  at  both  their  opjX)nents.  They 
forced  Charles  by  an  address  to  withdraw  his  pledge  of  toleration. 
They  then  extorted  from  him  a  proclamation  for  the  banishment  of  all 
Catholic  priests,  and  followed  this  up  by  a  Conventicle  Act,  which 
punished  with  fine,  imprisonment,  and  transportation  on  a  third  offence 
all  persons  who  met  in  greater  number  than  five  for  any  religious 
worship  save  that  of  the  Common  Prayer  ;  while  return,  or  escape 
from  banishment  was  punished  by  death.  The  Five  Mile  Act,  a  year 
later,  completed  the  code  of  persecution.  By  its  provisions,  every 
clergyman  who  had  been  driven  out  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity  was 
called  on  lo  swear  that  he  held  it  unlawful  under  any  pretext  to  take  up 
arms  against  the  King,  and  that  he  would  at  no  time  "endeavour  any 
alteration  of  government  in  Church  and  State."  In  case  of  refusal,  he 
was  forbidden  to  go  within  five  miles  of  any  borough,  or  of  any  place 
where  he  had  been  wont  to  minister.  As  the  main  body  of  the  Non- 
conformists belonged  to  the  city  and  trading  classes,  the  effect  of  this 
measure  was  to  rob  them  of  any  religious  teaching  at  all.  A  motion  to 
impose  the  oath  of  the  Five  Mile  Act  on  every  person  in  the  nation  was 
rejected  in  the  same  session  by  a  majority  of  only  six.  The  sufferings  of 
the  Nonconformists  indeed  could  hardly  fail  to  f  jII  on  the  sympathies 
of  the  people.  The  thirst  for  revenge,  which  had  been  roused  by  the 
violence  of  the  Presbyterians  in  their  liour  of  triumph,  was  satisfied  by 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


625 


their  humiliation  in  the  hour  of  defeat.  The  sight  of  pious  and  learned 
clergymen  driven  from  their  homes  and  their  flocks,  of  religious  meet- 
ings broken  up  by  the  constables,  of  preachers  set  side  by  side  with 
thieves  and  outcasts  in  the  dock,  of  gaols  crammed  with  honest 
enthusiasts  whose  piety  was  their  only  crime,  pleaded  more  eloquently 
for  toleration  than  all  the  reasoning  in  the  world.  We  have  a  clue  to 
the  extent  of  the  persecution  from  what  we  know  to  have  been  its  effect 
on  a  single  sect.  The  Quakers  had  excited  alarm  by  their  extravagances 
of  manner,  their  refusal  to  bear  arms  or  to  take  oaths  ;  and  a  special 
Act  was  passed  for  their  repression.  They  were  one  of  the  smallest  of 
the  Nonconformist  bodies,  but  more  than  four  thousand  were  soon  in 
prison,  and  of  these  five  hundred  were  imprisoned  in  London  alone. 
The  King's  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  twelve  years  later,  set  free 
twelve  hundred  Quakers  who  had  found  their  way  to  the  gaols.  Of 
the  sufferings  of  the  expelled  clergy  one  of  their  own  number,  Richard 
Baxter,  has  given  us  an  account.  "  Many  hundreds  of  them,  with  their 
wives  and  children,  had  neither  house  nor  bread.  .  .  .  Their  congrega- 
tions had  enough  to  do,  besides  a  small  maintenance,  to  help  them  out 
of  prisons,  or  to  maintain  them  there.  Though  they  were  as  frugal  as 
possible  they  could  hardly  live  ;  some  lived  on  little  more  than  brown 
bread  and  water,  many  had  but  eight  or  ten  pounds  a  year  to  maintain 
a  family,  so  that  a  piece  of  flesh  has  not  come  to  one  of  their  tables  in 
six  weeks'  time  ;  their  allowance  could  scarce  afford  them  bread  and 
cheese.  One  went  to  plow  six  days  and  preached  on  the  Lord's  Day. 
Another  was  forced  to  cut  tobacco  for  a  livelihood."  But  poverty  was 
the  least  of  their  sufferings.  They  were  jeered  at  by  the  players.  They 
were  hooted  through  the  streets  by  the  mob.  "  Many  of  the  ministers, 
being  afraid  to  lay  down  their  ministry  after  they  had  been  ordained  to 
it,  preached  to  such  as  would  hear  them  in  fields  and  private  houses, 
till  they  were  apprehended  and  cast  into  gaols,  where  many  of  them 
perished."  They  were  excommunicated  in  the  Bishops'  Court,  or 
fined  for  non-attendance  at  church  ;  and  a  crowd  of  informers  grew 
up  who  made  a  trade  of  detecting  the  meetings  they  held  at  midnight. 
Alleyn,  the  author  of  the  well-known  "Alarm  to  the  Unconverted," 
died  at  thirty-six  from  the  sufferings  he  endured  in  Taunton  Gaol. 
Vavasour  Powell,  the  apostle  of  W^ales,  spent  the  eleven  years  which 
followed  the  Restoration  in  prisons  at  Shrewsbury,  Southsea,  and 
Cardiff,  till  he  perished  in  the  Fleet.  John  Bunyan  was  for  twelve 
years  a  prisoner  at  Bedford. 

We  have  already  seen  the  atmosphere  of  excited  feeling  in  which 
the  youth  of  Bunyan  had  been  spent.  From  his  childhood  he  heard 
heavenly  voices,  and  saw  visions  of  heaven  ;  from  his  childhood,  too, 
he  had  been  wrestling  with  an  overpowering  sense  of  sin,  which  sick- 
ness and  repeated  escapes  from  death  did  much  as  he  grew  up  to 
deepen.    But  in  spite  of  his  self-reproaches  his  life  was  a  religious  one  ; 


626 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


and  the  purity  and  sobriety  of  his  youth  was  shown  by  his  admission 
at  seventeen  into  the  ranks  of  the  "  New  Model."  Two  years  later 
the  war  was  over,  and  Bunyan  though  hardly  twenty  found  himself 
married  to  a  "godly"  wife,  as  young  and  penniless  as  himself.  So 
poor  were  the  young  couple  that  they  could  scarce  muster  a  spoon 
and  a  plate  between  them  ;  and  the  poverty  of  their  home  deepened, 
perhaps,  the  gloom  of  the  young  tinker's  restlessness  and  religious 
depression.  His  wife  did  what  she  could  to  comfort  him,  teaching 
him  again  to  read  and  write,  for  he  had  forgotten  his  school-learning, 
and  reading  with  him  in  two  little  "godly"  books  which  formed  his 
library.  But  the  darkness  only  gathered  the  thicker  round  his  ima- 
ginative soul.  "  I  walked,"  he  tells  us  of  this  time,  "  to  a  neighbouring 
town  ;  and  sate  down  upon  a  settle  in  the  street,  and  fell  into  a  very 
deep  pause  about  the  most  fearful  state  my  sin  had  brought  me  to ; 
and  after  long  musing  I  lifted  up  my  head  ;  but  methought  I  saw  as 
if  the  sun  that  shineth  in  the  heavens  did  grudge  to  give  me  light ; 
and  as  if  the  very  stones  in  the  street  and  tiles  upon  the  houses  did 
band  themselves  against  me.  Methought  that  they  all  combined 
together  to  banish  me  out  of  the  world.  I  was  abhorred  of  them,  and 
wept  to  dwell  among  them,  because  I  had  sinned  against  the  Saviour. 
Oh,  how  happy  now  was  every  creature  over  I  !  for  they  stood  fast  and 
kept  their  station.  But  I  was  gone  and  lost."  At  last,  after  more  than 
two  years  of  this  struggle,  the  darkness  broke.  Bunyan  felt  himself 
"  converted,"  and  freed  from  the  burthen  of  his  sin.  He  joined  a 
Baptist  church  at  Bedford,  and  a  few  years  later  he  became  famous  as 
a  preacher.  As  he  held  no  formal  post  of  minister  in  the  congregation, 
his  preaching  even  under  the  Protectorate  was  illegal  and  '*gave  great 
offence,"  he  tells  us,  "  to  the  doctors  and  priests  of  that  county,"  but 
he  persisted  with  little  real  molestation  until  the  Restoration.  Six 
months  however  after  the  King's  return  he  was  committed  to  Bedford 
Gaol  on  a  charge  of  preaching  in  unlicensed  conventicles  ;  and  his 
refusal  to  promise  to  abstain  from  preaching  kept  him  there  twelve 
years.  The  gaol  was  crowded  with  prisoners  like  himself,  and  amongst 
them  he  continued  his  ministry,  supporting  himself  by  making  tagged 
thread  laces,  and  finding  some  comfort  in  the  Bible,  the  "  Book  of 
Martyrs,"  and  the  writing  materials  which  he  was  suffered  to  have 
with  him  in  his  prison.  But  he  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  his  age  was 
thirty-two  when  he  was  imprisoned  ;  and  the  inactivity  and  severance 
from  his  wife  and  little  children  was  hard  to  bear.  "The  parting  with 
my  wife  and  poor  children,"  he  says  in  words  of  simple  pathos,  "hath 
often  been  to  me  in  this  place  as  the  pulling  of  the  flesh  from  the 
bones,  and  that  not  only  because  I  am  somewhat  too  fond  of  those 
great  mercies,  but  also  because  I  should  have  often  brought  to  my  mind 
the  many  hardships,  miseries,  and  wants  that  my  poor  family  was  like 
to  meet  with  should  1   be  taken  from  them,  especially  my  poor  blind 


rx.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


627 


child,  who  lay  nearer  to  my  heart  than  all  besides.  Oh,  the  thoughts 
of  the  hardships  I  thought  my  poor  blind  one  might  go  under  would 
break  my  heart  to  pieces.  '  Poor  child,'  thought  I,  '  what  sorrow  art 
thou  like  to  have  for  thy  portion  in  this  world  !  Thou  must  be  beaten, 
must  beg,  suffer  hunger,  cold,  nakedness,  and  a  thousand  calamities, 
though  I  cannot  now  endure  the  wind  should  blow  upon  thee.' "  But 
suffering  could  not  break  his  purpose,  and  Bunyan  found  compensation 
for  the  narrow  bounds  of  his  prison  in  the  wonderful  activity  of  his 
pen.  Tracts,  controversial  treatises,  poems,  meditations,  his  "  Grace 
Abounding,"  and  his  "Holy  City,"  followed  each  other  in  quick 
succession.  It  was  in  his  gaol  that  he  wrote  the  first  and  greatest 
part  of  his  "Pilgrim's  Progress."  Its  publication  was  the  earliest 
result  of  his  deliverance  at  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  and  the 
popularity  which  it  enjoyed  from  the  first  proves  that  the  religious 
sympathies  of  the  English  people  were  still  mainly  Puritan.  Before 
Bunyan's  death  in  1688  ten  editions  of  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress"  had 
already  been  sold  ;  and  though  even  Cowper  hardly  dared  to  quote  it 
a  century  later  for  fear  of  moving  a  smile  in  the  polite  world  about 
him  its  favour  among  the  middle  classes  and  the  poor  has  grown 
steadily  from  its  author's  day  to  our  own.  It  is  now  the  most  popular 
and  the  most  widely  known  of  all  English  books.  In  none  do  we  see 
more  clearly  the  new  imaginative  force  which  had  been  given  to  the 
common  life  of  Englishmen  by  their  study  of  the  Bible.  Its  English 
is  the  simplest  and  the  homeliest  English  which  has  ever  been  used 
by  any  great  English  writer  ;  but  it  is  the  English  of  the  Bible.  The 
images  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress "  are  the  images  of  prophet  and 
evangelist ;  it  borrows  for  its  tenderer  outbursts  the  very  verse  of  the 
Song  of  Songs,  and  pictures  the  Heavenly  City  in  the  words  of  the 
Apocalypse.  But  so  completely  has  the  Bible  become  Bunyan's  life 
that  one  feels  its  phrases  as  the  natural  expression  of  his  thoughts. 
He  has  lived  in  the  Bible  till  its  words  have  become  his  own.  He 
has  lived  among  its  visions  and  voices  of  heaven  till  all  sense  of 
possible  unreahty  has  died  away.  He  tells  his  tale  with  such  a  perfect 
naturalness  that  allegories  become  living  things,  that  the  Slough  of 
Despond  and  Doubting  Castle  are  as  real  to  us  as  places  we  see  every 
day,  that  we  know  Mr.  Legality  and  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman  as  if  we 
had  met  them  in  the  street.  It  is  in  this  amazing  reality  of  impersona- 
tion that  Bunyan's  imaginative  genius  specially  displays  itself.  But 
this  is  far  from  being  his  only  excellence.  In  its  range,  in  its  direct- 
ness, in  its  simple  grace,  in  the  ease  with  which  it  changes  from  lively 
dialogue  to  dramatic  action,  from  simple  pathos  to  passionate  earnest- 
ness, in  the  subtle  and  delicate  fancy  which  often  suffuses  its  childlike 
words,  in  its  playful  humour,  its  bold  character-painting,  in  the  even 
and  balanced  power  which  passes  without  effort  from  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  to  the  land  "  where  the  Shining  Ones  commonly 


62$ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Sec.  II 

The 
Restora- 
tion 

1660 

TO 

1667 


The  TVar 

with 
Holland 


1665 


1666 


PirtoJ 
London 


walked,  because  it  was  on  the  borders  of  heaven,"  in  its  sunny  kindli- 
ness unbroken  by  one  bitter  word,  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  is  among 
the  noblest  of  English  poems.  For  if  Puritanism  had  first  discovered 
the  poetry  which  contact  with  the  spiritual  world  awakes  in  the 
meanest  soul,  Bunyan  was  the  first  of  the  Puritans  who  revealed  this 
poetry  to  the  outer  world.  The  journey  of  Christian  from  the  City  of 
Destruction  to  the  Heavenly  City  is  simply  a  record  of  the  life  of  such 
a  Puritan  as  Bunyan  himself,  seen  through  an  imaginative  ha^e  of 
spiritual  idealism  in  which  its  commonest  incidents  are  heightened  and 
glorified,  he  is  himself  the  pilgrim  who  flies  from  the  City  of  Destruc- 
tion, who  climbs  the  hill  Difficulty,  who  faces  Apollyon,  who  sees  his 
loved  ones  cross  the  river  of  Death  towards  the  Heavenly  City,  and 
how,  because  "  the  hill  on  which  the  City  was  framed  was  higher  than 
the  clouds,  they  therefore  went  up  through  the  region  of  the  air, 
sweetly  talking  as  they  went." 

The  success,  however,  of  the  system  of  religious  repression  rested 
mainly  on  the  maintenance  of  peace  ;  and  while  Bunyan  was  lying  in 
Bedford  Gaol,  and  the  Church  was  carrying  on  its  bitter  persecution 
of  the  Nonconformists,  England  was  plunging  into  a  series  of  bitter 
humiliations  and  losses  abroad.  The  old  commercial  jealousy  between 
the  Dutch  and  English,  which  had  been  lulled  by  a  formal  treaty  in 
1662,  but  which  still  lived  on  in  petty  squabbles  at  sea,  was  embittered 
by  the  cession  of  Bombay — a  port  which  gave  England  an  entry  into 
the  profitable  trade  with  India — and  by  the  establishment  of  a  West 
Indian  Company  in  London  which  opened  a  traffic  with  the  Gold 
Coast  of  Africa.  The  quarrel  was  fanned  into  a  war.  Parliament  voted  a 
large  supply  unanimously  ;  and  the  King  was  won  by  hopes  of  the  ruin 
of  the  Dutch  presbyterian  and  republican  government,  and  by  his  resent- 
ment at  the  insults  he  had  suffered  from  Holland  in  his  exile.  The  war  at 
sea  which  followed  was  a  war  of  giants.  An  obstinate  battle  off  Lowestoft 
ended  in  a  victory  for  the  English  fleet ;  but  in  an  encounter  the  next 
year  with  De  Ruyter  off  the  North  Foreland  Monk  and  his  fleet  after 
two  day's  fighting  were  only  saved  from  destruction  by  the  arrival  of 
Prince  Rupert.  The  dogged  admiral  renewed  the  fight,  but  the  combat 
again  ended  in  De  Ruyter's  favour  and  the  English  took  refuge  in  the 
Thames.  Their  fleet  was  indeed  ruined,  but  the  losses  of  the  enony 
had  been  hardly  less.  "  English  sailors  may  be  killed,"  said  De  Witt, 
"  but  they  cannot  be  conquered  ; ''  and  the  saying  was  as  true  of  one 
side  as  the  other.  A  third  battle,  as  hard-fought  as  its  predecessors, 
ended  in  the  triumph  of  the  English,  and  their  fleet  sailed  along  the 
coast  of  Holland,  burning  ships  and  towns.  But  Holland  was  as  un- 
conquerable as  England  herself,  and  the  Dutch  fleet  was  soon  again 
refitted  and  was  joined  in  the  Channel  by  the  French.  Meanwhile, 
calamity  at  home  was  added  to  the  sufferings  of  the  war.  In  the  pre- 
ceding year  a  hundred  thousand  Londoners  had  died  in  six  months  of 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


629 


the  Plague  which  broke  out  in  the  crowded  streets  of  the  capital  ;  and 
the  Plague  was  followed  now  by  a  fire,  which,  beginning  in  the  heart 
of  London,  reduced  the  whole  city  to  ashes  from  the  Tower  to  the 
Temple.  Thirteen  hundred  houses  and  ninety  churches  were 
destroyed.  The  loss  of  merchandise  and  property  was  beyond  count. 
The  Treasury  was  empty,  and  neither  ships  nor  forts  were  manned 
when  the  Dutch  fleet  appeared  at  the  Nore,  advanced  unopposed  up 
the  Thames  to  Gravesend,  forced  the  boom  which  protected  the 
Med  way,  burned  three  men-of-war  which  lay  anchored  in  the  river, 
and  withdrew  only  to  sail  proudly  along  the  coast,  the  masters  of  the 
Channel. 

Section  III.— Cbarles  the  Second.    1667—1673. 

^Authorities. — To  the  authorities  already  mentioned,  we  may  add  the  Memoirs 
of  Sir  William  Temple,  with  Lord  Macaulay's  well-known  Essay  on  that  states- 
man, Reresby's  Memoirs,  and  the  works  of  Andrew  Marvell.  The  "Memoirs 
of  the  Count  de  Grammont,"  by  Anthony  Hamilton,  give  a  witty  and  amusing 
picture  of  the  life  of  the  court.  Lingard  becomes  important  from  the  original 
materials  he  has  used,  and  from  his  clear  and  dispassionate  statement  of  the 
Catholic  side  of  the  question.  Ranke's  "History  of  the  XVII.  Century' 
throws  great  light  on  the  diplomatic  history  of  the  later  Stuart  reigns  ;  on  in- 
ternal and  constitutional  points  he  is  dispassionate  but  of  less  value.  Dalrymple, 
in  his  "  Memoirs  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,"  was  the  first  to  discover  the 
real  secret  of  the  negotiations  with  France  ;  but  all  previous  researches  have 
been  superseded  by  those  of  M.  Mignet,  whose  **  Negociations  relatives  a  la 
Succession  d'Espagne"  is  indispensable  for  a  knowledge  of  the  time.] 

The  thunder  of  the  Dutch  guns  in  the  Medway  and  the  Thames 
woke  England  to  a  bitter  sense  of  its  degradation.  The  dream  of 
loyalty  was  over.  "  Everybody  now-a-days,"  Pepys  tells  us,  "  reflect 
upon  Oliver  and  commend  him,  what  brave  things  he  did,  and  made 
all  the  neighbour  princes  fear  him."  But  Oliver's  successor  was  coolly 
watching  this  shame  and  discontent  of  his  people  with  the  one  aim  of 
turning  it  to  his  own  advantage.  To  Charles  the  Second  the  degrada- 
tion of  England  was  only  a  move  in  the  political  game  which  he  was 
playing,  a  game  played  with  so  consummate  a  secrecy  and  skill  that  it 
deceived  not  only  the  closest  observers  of  his  own  day  but  still  mis- 
leads historians  of  ours.  What  his  subjects  saw  in  their  King  was  a 
pleasant,  brown-faced  gentleman  playing  with  his  spaniels,  or  drawing 
caricatures  of  his  ministers,  or  flinging  cakes  to  the  water-fowl  in  the 
park.  To  all  outer  seeming  Charles  was  the  most  consummate  of 
idlers.  "  He  delighted,"  says  one  of  his  courtiers,  "  in  a  bewitching 
kind  of  pleasure  called  sauntering."  The  business-like  Pepys  soon 
discovered  that  "  the  King  do  mind  nothing  but  pleasures,  and  hates 
the  very  sight  or  thoughts  of  business."  He  only  laughed  when  Tom 
Killigrew  frankly  told  him  that  badly  as  things  were  going  there  was 
one  man  whose  industry  could  soon  set  them  right,  "  and  this  is  one 


630 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Charles  Stuart,  who  now  spends  his  time  in  using  his  lips  about  the 
Court,  and  hath  no  other  employment."  That  Charles  had  great 
natural  parts  no  one  doubted.  In  his  earlier  days  of  defeat  and 
danger  he  showed  a  cool  courage  and  presence  of  mind  which  never 
failed  him  in  the  many  perilous  moments  of  his  reign.  His  temper 
was  pleasant  and  social,  his  manners  perfect,  and  there  was  a  care- 
less freedom  and  courtesy  in  his  address  which  won  over  everybody 
who  came  into  his  presence.  His  education  indeed  had  been  so  grossly 
neglected  that  he  could  hardly  read  a  plain  Latin  book  ;  but  his 
natural  quickness  and  intelligence  showed  itself  in  his  pursuit  of 
chymistry  and  anatomy,  and  in  the  interest  he  showed  in  the  scientific 
inquiries  of  the  Royal  Society.  Like  Peter  the  Great  his  favourite 
study  was  that  of  naval  architecture,  and  he  piqued  himself  on  being  a 
clever  ship-builder.  He  had  some  little  love  too  for  art  and  poetry,  and 
a  taste  for  music.  But  his  shrewdness  and  vivacity  showed  itself  most 
in  his  endless  talk.  He  was  fond  of  telling  stories,  and  he  told  them 
with  a  good  deal  of  grace  and  humour.  His  humbur  indeed  never 
forsook  him:  even  on  his  deathbed  he  turned  to  the  weeping 
courtiers  around  and  whispered  an  apology  for  having  been  so  un- 
conscionable a  time  in  dying.  He  held  his  own  fairly  with  the  wits  of 
his  Court,  and  bandied  repartees  on  equal  terms  with  Sedley  or 
Buckingham.  Even  Rochester  in  his  merciless  epigram  was  forced 
to  own  that  Charles  "never  said  a  foolish  thing."  He  had  inherited 
in  fact  his  grandfather's  gift  of  pithy  sayings,  and  his  habitual  irony 
often  gave  an  amusing  turn  to  them.  When  his  brother,  the  most  un- 
popular man  in  England,  solemnly  warned  him  of  plots  against  his 
life,  Charles  laughingly  bade  him  set  all  fear  aside.  "  They  will 
never  kill  me,  James,"  he  said,  "  to  make  you  king."  But  courage  and 
wit  and  ability  seemed  to  have  been  bestowed  on  him  in  vain.  Charles 
hated  business.  He  gave  to  outer  observers  no  sign  of  ambition.  The 
one  thing  he  seemed  in  earnest  about  was  sensual  pleasure,  and  he 
took  his  pleasure  with  a  cynical  shamelessness  which  roused  the  dis- 
gust even  of  his  shameless  courtiers.  Mistress  followed  mistress, 
and  the  guilt  of  a  troop  of  profligate  women  was  blazoned  to  the 
world  by  the  gift  of  titles  and  estates.  The  royal  bastards  were  set 
amongst  English  nobles.  The  ducal  house  of  Grafton  springs  from 
the  King's  adultery  with  Barbara  Palmer,  whom  he  created  Duchess 
of  Cleveland.  The  Dukes  of  St  Albans  owe  their  origin  to  his  m- 
trigue  with  Nell  Gwynn,  a  player  and  a  courtezan.  Louise  de 
Qudrouaille,  a  mistress  sent  by  France  to  win  him  to  its  interests, 
became  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  ancestress  of  the  house  of  Rich- 
mond. An  earlier  mistress,  Lucy  Walters,  was  mother  of  a  boy  whom 
he  raised  to  the  Dukedom  of  Monmouth,  and  to  whom  the  Dukes  of 
Buccleuch  trace  their  line  ;  but  there  is  good  reason  for  doubting 
whether  the  King  was  actually  his  father.     But  Charles  was  far  from 


;x.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


631 


being  content  with  these  recognized  mistresses,  or  with  a  single  form 
of  self-indulgence.  Gambling  and  drinking  helped  to  fill  up  the  vacant 
moments  when  he  could  no  longer  toy  with  his  favourites  or  bet  at 
Newmarket.  No  thought  of  remorse  or  of  shame  seems  ever  to  have 
crossed  his  mind.  "  He  could  not  think  God  would  make  a  man 
miserable,"  he  said  once,  "  only  for  taking  a  httle  pleasure  out  of  the 
way."  From  shame  indeed  he  was  shielded  by  his  cynical  disbelief  in 
human  virtue.  Virtue  he  regarded  simply  as  a  trick  by  which  clever 
hypocrites  imposed  upon  fools.  Honour  among  men  seemed  to  him 
as  mere  a  pretence  as  chastity  among  women.  Gratitude  he  had  none, 
for  he  looked  upon  self-interest  as  the  only  motive  of  men's  actions, 
and  though  soldiers  had  died  and  women  had  risked  their  lives  for 
him,  he  "  loved  others  as  little  as  he  thought  they  loved  him."  But 
if  he  felt  no  gratitude  for  benefits  he  felt  no  resentment  for  wrongs. 
He  was  incapable  either  of  love  or  of  hate.  The  only  feeling  he 
retained  for  his  fellow-men  was  that  of  an  amused  contempt. 

It  was  difficult  for  Englishmen  to  believe  that  any  real  danger  to 
liberty  could  come  from  an  idler  and  a  voluptuary  such  as  Charles  the 
Second.  But  in  the  very  difficulty  of  believing  this  lay  half  the  King's 
strength.  He  had  in  fact  no  taste  whatever  for  the  despotism  of  the 
Stuarts  who  had  gone  before  him.  His  shrewdness  laughed  his 
grandfather's  theory  of  Divine  Right  down  the  wind,  while  his  indo- 
lence made  such  a  personal  administration  as  that  which  his  father 
delighted  in  burthensome  to  him.  He  was  too  humorous  a  man  to 
care  for  the  pomp  and  show  of  power,  and  too  good-natured  a  man  to 
play  the  tyrant.  But  he  believed  as  firmly  as  his  father  or  his  grand- 
father had  believed  in  the  older  prerogatives  of  the  Crown  ;  and,  like 
them,  he  looked  on  Parliaments  with  suspicion  and  jealousy.  "  He  told 
Lord  Essex,"  Burnet  says,  "  that  he  did  not  wish  to  be  like  a  Grand 
Signior,  with  some  mutes  about  him,  and  bags  of  bowstrings  to  strangle 
men  ;  but  he  did  not  think  he  was  a  king  so  long  as  a  company  of  fellows 
were  looking  into  his  actions,  and  examining  his  ministers  as  well  as  his 
accounts."  "  A  king,"  he  thought,  "  who  might  be  checked,  and  have  his 
ministers  called  to  an  account,  was  but  a  king  in  name."  In  other  words, 
he  had  no  settled  plan  of  tyranny,  but  he  meant  to  rule  as  independently 
as  he  could,  and  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  reign  there  never 
was  a  moment  when  he  was  not  doing  something  to  carry  out  his  aim. 
But  he  carried  it  out  in  a  tentative,  irregular  fashion  which  it  was  as 
hard  to  detect  as  to  meet.  Whenever  there  was  any  strong  opposition 
he  gave  way.  If  popular  feeling  demanded  the  dismissal  of  his  minis- 
ters, he  dismissed  them.  If  it  protested  against  his  declaration  of 
indulgence,  he  recalled  it.  If  it  cried  for  victims  in  the  frenzy  of  the 
Popish  Plot,  he  gave  it  victims  till  the  frenzy  was  at  an  end.  It  was 
easy  for  Charles  to  yield  and  to  wait,  and  just  as  easy  for  him  to  take 
up  the  thread  of  his  purpose  again  the  moment  the  pressure  was  over. 


632 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Sec.  III. 
Charles 

THE 

Second 
]1667 

TO 

1673 


Dutolution 
the  Union 

i66o 


The  one  fixed  resolve  which  overrode  every  other  thought  in  the  King's 
mind  was  a  resolve  "not  to  set  out  on  his  travels  again."  His  fathei 
had  fallen  through  a  quarrel  with  the  two  Houses,  and  Charles  was 
determined  to  remain  on  good  terms  with  the  Parliament  till  he  was 
strong  enough  to  pick  a  quarrel  to  his  profit.  He  treated  the  Lords 
with  an  easy  familiarity  which  robbed  opposition  of  its  seriousness, 
"  Their  debates  amused  him,"  he  said  in  his  indolent  way ;  and  he  stood 
chatting  before  the  fire  while  peer  after  peer  poured  invectives  on  his 
ministers,  and  laughed  louder  than  the  rest  when  Shaftesbury  directed 
his  coarsest  taunts  at  the  barrenness  of  the  Queen.  Courtiers  were 
entrusted  with  the  secret  "management"  of  the  Commons:  obstinate 
country  gentlemen  were  brought  to  the  royal  closet  to  kiss  the  King's 
hand  and  listen  to  the  King's  pleasant  stories  of  his  escape  after 
Worcester  ;  and  still  more  obstinate  country  gentlemen  were  bribed. 
Where  bribes,  flattery,  and  management  failed,  Charles  was  content 
to  yield  and  to  wait  till  his  time  came  again.  Meanwhile  he  went  on 
patiently  gathering  up  what  fragments  of  the  olJ  royal  power  still 
survived,  and  availing  himself  of  whatever  new  resources  offered 
themselves.  If  he  could  not  undo  what  Puritanism  had  done  in 
England,  he  could  undo  its  work  in  Scotland  and  in  Ireland.  Before 
the  Civil  War  these  kingdoms  had  served  as  useful  checks  on  English 
liberty,  and  by  simply  regarding  the  Union  which  the  Long  Parliament 
and  the  Protector  had  brought  about  as  a  nullity  in  law  it  was  possible 
they  might  become  checks  again.  In  his  refusal  to  recognize  the 
Union  Charles  was  supported  by  public  opinion  among  his  English 
subjects,  partly  from  sheer  abhorrence  of  changes  wrought  during  "  the 
troubles,"  and  partly  from  a  dread  that  the  Scotch  and  Irish  members 
would  form  a  party  in  the  English  Parliament  which  would  always  be 
at  the  service  of  the  Crown.  In  both  the  lesser  kingdoms  too  a 
measure  which  seemed  to  restore  somewhat  of  their  independence 
was  for  the  moment  popular.  But  the  results  of  this  step  were  quick 
in  developing  themselves.  In  Scotland  the  Covenant  was  at  once 
abolished.  The  new  Scotch  Parliament  at  Edinburgh,  the  Drunken 
Parliament,  as  it  was  called,  outdid  the  wildest  loyalty  of  the  English 
Cavaliers  by  annulling  in  a  single  Act  all  the  proceedings  of  its  pre- 
decessors during  the  last  eight-and-twenty  years.  By  this  measure 
the  whole  existing  Church  system  of  Scotland  was  deprived  of  legal 
sanction.  The  General  Assembly  h  \d  already  been  prohibited  from 
meeting  by  Cromwell ;  the  kirk-sessions  and  ministers'  synods  were 
now  suspended.  The  Scotch  bishops  were  again  restored  to  their 
spiritual  pre-eminence,  and  to  their  seats  in  Parliament  An  iniquitous 
trial  sent  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  the  only  noble  strong  enough  to 
oppose  the  royal  will,  to  the  block,  and  the  government  was  entrusted 
to  a  knot  of  profligate  statesmen  till  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  Lauder- 
dale, one  of  the  ablest  and  most  unscrupulous  of  the  King's  ministers. 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


6^^ 


Their  policy  was  steadily  directed  to  the  two  purposes  of  humbling 
Prcbbyterianism — as  the  force  which  could  alone  restore  Scotland  to 
freedom,  and  enable  her  to  lend  aid  as  before  to  English  liberty  in  any 
struggle  with  the  Crown — and  that  of  raising  a  royal  army  which  might 
be  ready  in  case  of  need  to  march  over  the  border  to  the  King's  sup- 
port. In  Ireland  the  dissolution  of  the  Union  brought  back  the  bishops 
to  their  sees  ;  but  whatever  wish  Charles  may  have  had  to  restore  the 
balance  of  Catholic  and  Protestant  as  a  source  of  power  to  the  Crown 
was  baffled  by  the  obstinate  resistance  of  the  Protestant  settlers  to  any 
plans  for  redressing  the  confiscations  of  Cromwell.  Five  years  of  bitter 
struggle  between  the  dispossessed  loyalists  and  the  new  occupants  left 
the  Protestant  ascendency  unimpaired  ;  and  in  spite  of  a  nominal 
surrender  of  one-third  of  the  confiscated  estates  to  their  old  possessors, 
hardly  a  sixth  of  the  profitable  land  in  the  island  remained  in  Catholic 
holding.  The  claims  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond  too  made  it  necessary  to 
leave  the  government  in  his  hands,  and  Ormond's  loyalty  was  too 
moderate  and  constitutional  to  lend  itself  to  any  of  the  schemes  of 
absolute  rule  which  under  Tyrconnell  played  so  great  a  part  in  the 
next  reign.  But  the  severance  of  the  two  kingdoms  from  England  was 
in  itself  a  gain  to  the  royal  authority  ;  and  Charles  turned  quietly  to  the 
building  up  of  a  royal  army  at  home.  A  standing  army  had  become  so 
hateful  a  thing  to  the  body  of  the  nation,  and  above  all  to  the  royalists 
whom  the  New  Model  had  trodden  under  foot,  that  it  was  impossible 
to  propose  its  establishment.  But  in  the  mind  of  Charles  and  his 
brother  James,  their  father's  downfall  had  been  owing  to  the  want  of  a 
disciplined  force  which  would  have  trampled  out  the  first  efforts  of 
national  resistance ;  and  while  disbanding  the  New  Model,  Charles 
availed  himself  of  the  alarm  created  by  a  mad  rising  of  some  Fifth- 
Monarchy  men  in  London  under  an  old  soldier  called  Venner  to  retain 
five  thousand  horse  and  foot  in  his  service  under  the  name  of  his  guards. 
A  body  of  "  gentlemen  of  quality  and  veteran  soldiers,  excellently  clad, 
mounted,  and  ordered,"  was  thus  kept  ready  for  service  near  the  royal 
person  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  scandal  which  it  aroused  the  King  per- 
sisted, steadily  but  cautiously,  in  gradually  increasing  its  numbers. 
Twenty  years  later  it  had  grown  to  a  force  of  seven  thousand  foot 
and  one  thousand  seven  hundred  horse  and  dragoons  at  home,  with 
a  reserve  of  six  fine  regiments  abroad  in  the  service  of  the  United 
Provinces. 

But  Charles  was  too  quick-witted  a  man  to  believe,  as  his  brother 
James  believed,  that  it  was  possible  to  break  down  English  freedom 
by  the  royal  power  or  by  a  few  thousand  men  in  arms.  It  was  still 
less  possible  by  such  means  to  break  down,  as  he  wished  to  break 
down,  English  Protestantism.  In  heart,  whether  the  story  of  his  re- 
nunciation of  Protestantism  during  his  exile  be  true  or  no,  he  had  long 
ceased  to  be  a  Protestant.     Whatever  religious  feehng  he  had  was  on 


634 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  Ill 
Charles 

THE 

Skcond 
1667 

TO 

1673 


Charles  and 
C-atholicism 


Mtirriagt  of 
Chnrltt 


the  side  of  Catholicism ;  he  encouraged  conversions  among  his  cour- 
tiers, and  the  last  act  of  his  life  was  to  seek  formal  admission  into  the 
Roman  Church.  But  his  feelings  were  rather  political  than  religious. 
The  English  Roman  Catholics  formed  a  far  larger  part  of  the  popula- 
tion then  than  now  ;  their  wealth  and  local  influence  gave  them  a 
political  importance  which  they  have  long  since  lost,  and  every  motive 
of  gratitude  as  well  as  self-interest  led  him  to  redeem  his  pledge  to 
procure  toleration  for  their  worship.  But  he  was  already  looking, 
however  vaguely,  to  something  more  than  Catholic  toleration.  He 
saw  that  despotism  in  the  State  could  hardly  co-exist  with  free  inquiry 
and  free  action  in  matters  of  the  conscience,  and  that  government,  in 
his  own  words,  "  was  a  safer  and  easier  thing  where  the  authority  was 
believed  infallible  and  the  faith  and  submission  of  the  people  were 
implicit."  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such  a  religious  change 
probably  seemed  the  less  to  him  from  his  long  residence  in  Roman 
Catholic  countries,  and  from  his  own  religious  scepticism.  Two  years 
indeed  after  his  restoration  he  had  already  despatched  an  agent  to 
Rome  to  arrange  the  terms  of  a  reconciliation  between  the  Anglican 
Church  and  the  Papacy.  But  though  he  counted  much  for  the  success 
of  his  project  of  toleration  on  taking  advantage  of  the  dissensions 
between  Protestant  Churchmen  and  Protestant  Dissenters  he  soon 
discovered  that  for  any  real  success  in  his  political  or  religious  aims  he 
must  seek  resources  elsewhere  than  at  home.  At  this  moment  France 
was  the  dominant  power  in  Europe.  Its  young  King,  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth,  was  the  champion  of  Catholicism  and  despotism  against 
civil  and  religious  liberty  throughout  the  world.  France  was  the 
wealthiest  of  European  powers,  and  her  subsidies  could  free  Charles 
from  dependence  on  his  Parliament.  Her  army  was  the  finest  in  the 
world,  and  French  soldiers  could  put  down,  it  was  thought,  any  resist- 
ance from  English  patriots.  The  aid  of  Lewis  could  alone  realize  the 
aims  of  Charles,  and  Charles  was  willing  to  pay  the  price  which  Lewis 
demanded  for  his  aid,  the  price  of  concurrence  in  his  designs  on  Spain. 
Spain  at  this  moment  had  not  only  ceased  to  threaten  Europe  but 
herself  trembled  at  the  threats  of  France ;  and  the  aim  of  Lewis  was 
to  complete  her  ruin,  to  win  the  Spanish  provinces  in  the  Netherlands, 
and  ultimately  to  secure  the  succession  to  the  Spanish  throne  for  a 
French  prince.  But  the  presence  of  the  French  in  Flanders  was  equally 
distasteful  to  England  and  to  Holland,  and  in  such  a  contest  Spain 
might  hope  for  the  aid  of  these  states  and  of  the  Empire.  For  some 
years  Lewis  contented  himself  with  perfecting  his  army  and  preparing 
by  skilful  negotiations  to  make  such  a  league  of  the  great  powers  against 
him  impossible.  His  first  success  in  England  was  in  the  marriage 
of  the  King.  Portugal,  which  had  only  just  shaken  off  the  rule  of 
Spain,  was  really  dependent  upon  France  ;  and  in  accepting  the 
hand  of  Catharine  of  Braganza  in  spite  of  the  protests  of  Spain,  Charles 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


635 


announced  his  adhesion  to  the  alHance  of  Lewis.  Already  English 
opinion  saw  the  danger  of  such  a  course,  and  veered  round  to  the 
Spanish  side.  As  early  as  1661  the  London  mob  backed  the  Spanish 
ambassador  in  a  street  squabble  for  precedence  with  the  ambas- 
sador of  France.  "We  do  all  naturally  love  the  Spanish,"  says 
Pepys,  "  and  hate  the  French."  The  marriage  of  Catharine,  the 
sale  of  Dunkirk,  the  one  result  of  Cromwell's  victories,  to  France, 
aroused  the  national  jealousy  and  suspicion  of  French  influence  ; 
and  the  war  with  Holland  seemed  at  one  time  likely  to  end  in  a  war 
with  Lewis.  The  Dutch  war  was  in  itself  a  serious  stumblingblock  in 
the  way  of  French  projects.  To  aid  either  side  was  to  throw  the 
other  on  the  aid  of  the  House  of  Austria,  and  to  build  up  a  league 
which  would  check  France  in  its  aim.  Only  peace  could  keep  the 
European  states  disunited,  and  enable  Lewis  by  their  disunion  to 
carry  out  his  design  of  seizing  Flanders.  His  attempt  at  mediation 
was  fruitless ;  the  defeat  of  Lowestoft  forced  him  to  give  aid  to 
Holland,  and  the  news  of  his  purpose  at  once  roused  England  to  a 
hope  of  war.  When  Charles  announced  it  to  the  Houses,  "  there  was 
a  great  noise,"  says  Louvois,  "  in  the  Parliament  to  show  the  joy  of 
the  two  Houses  at  the  prospect  of  a  fight  with  us."  Lewis,  however, 
cautiously  limited  his  efforts  to  narrowing  the  contest  to  a  struggle  at 
sea,  while  England,  vexed  with  disasters  at  home  and  abroad,  could 
scarcely  maintain  the  war.  The  appearance  of  the  Dutch  fleet  in  the 
Thames  was  followed  by  the  sudden  conclusion  of  peace  which 
again  left  the  ground  clear  for  the  diplomatic  intrigues  of  Lewis. 

In  England  the  irritation  was  great  and  universal,  but  the  public 
resentment  fell  on  Clarendon  alone.  Charles  had  been  bitterly  angered 
when  in  1663  his  bill  to  vest  a  dispensing  power  in  the  Crown  had  been 
met  by  Clarendon's  open  opposition.  The  Presbyterian  party,  repre- 
sented by  Ashley,  and  the  Catholics,  led  by  the  Earl  of  Bristol,  alike 
sought  his  overthrow  ;  in  the  Court  he  was  opposed  by  Bennet,  after- 
wards Earl  of  Arlington,  a  creature  of  the  King's.  But  Clarendon  was 
still  strong  in  his  intimate  connexion  with  the  King's  affairs,  in  the 
marriage  of  his  daughter,  Anne  Hyde,  to  the  Duke  of  York,  in  his 
capacity  for  business,  above  all  in  the  support  of  the  Church,  and  the 
confidence  of  the  royalist  and  orthodox  House  of  Commons.  Foiled 
in  their  efforts  to  displace  him,  his  rivals  had  availed  themselves  of 
the  jealousy  of  the  merchant-class  to  drive  him  against  his  will  into 
the  war  with  Holland  ;  and  though  the  Chancellor  succeeded  in 
forcing  the  Five  Mile  Act  through  the  Houses  in  the  teeth  of  Ashley's 
protests,  the  calculations  of  his  enemies  were  soon  verified  The  union 
between  Clarendon  and  the  Parliament  was  broken  by  the  war.  The 
Parliament  was  enraged  by  his  counsel  for  its  dissolution,  and  by  his 
proposal  to  raise  troops  without  a  Parliamentary  grant,  and  his  oppo- 
sition to  the  inspection  of  accounts,  in  which  they  saw  an  attempt 


Sec.  hi. 
Charles 

THE 

Second 
1667 

TO 

1673 


1665 


Peace  oj 
Breda 

1667 

The 

Fall  of 

Clarendon 


636 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


to  re-establish  the  one  thing  they  hated  most,  a  standing  army.  Charles 
could  at  last  free  himself  from  the  minister  who  had  held  him  in  check 
so  long  ;  the  Chancellor  was  dismissed  from  office,  and  driven  to  take 
refuge  in  France.  By  the  exile  of  Clarendon,  the  death  of  South- 
ampton, and  the  retirement  of  Ormond  and  Nicholas,  the  party 
of  constitutional  loyalists  in  the  Council  ceased  to  exist  ;  and  the 
section  which  had  originally  represented  the  Presbyterians,  and  which 
under  the  guidance  of  Ashley  had  bent  to  purchase  toleration  even 
at  the  cost  of  increasing  the  prerogatives  of  the  Crown,  came  to  the 
front  of  affairs.  The  religious  policy  of  Charles  had  as  yet  been 
defeated  by  the  sturdy  Churchmanship  of  the  Parliament,  the  influence 
of  Clarendon,  and  the  reluctance  of  the  Presbyterians  as  a  body  to 
accept  the  Royal  "indulgence"  at  the  price  of  a  toleration  of  Catholicism 
and  a  recognition  of  the  King's  power  to  dispense  with  Parliamentary 
statutes.  The  first  steps  of  the  new  ministry  in  releasing  Noncon- 
formists from  prison,  in  suffering  conventicles  to  reopen,  and  suspending 
the  operation  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  were  in  open  defiance  of  the 
known  will  of  the  two  Houses.  But  when  Charles  again  proposed  to 
his  counsellors  a  general  toleration  he  no  longer  found  himself  supported 
by  them  as  in  1663.  Even  Ashley's  mood  was  changed.  Instead  of 
toleration  they  pressed  for  a  union  of  Protestants  which  would  have 
utterly  foiled  the  King's  projects  ;  and  a  scheme  of  Protestant  compre- 
hension which  had  been  approved  by  the  moderate  divines  on  both 
sides,  by  Tillotson  and  Stillingfleet  on  the  part  of  the  Church  as  well 
as  by  Manton  and  Baxter  on  the  part  of  the  Nonconformists,  was  laid 
before  the  House  of  Commons.  Even  its  rejection  failed  to  bring 
Ashley  and  his  party  back  to  their  old  position.  They  were  still  for 
toleration,  but  only  for  a  toleration  the  benefit  of  which  did  not  extend 
to  Catholics,  "  in  respect  the  laws  have  determined  the  principles  of  the 
Romish  religion  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  safety  of  your  Majesty's 
person  and  government."  The  policy  of  the  Council  in  fact  was 
determined  by  the  look  of  public  affairs  abroad.  Lewis  had  quickly 
shown  the  real  cause  of  the  eagerness  with  which  he  had  pressed  on 
the  Peace  of  Breda  between  England  and  the  Dutch.  He  had  secured 
the  neutrality  of  the  Emperor  by  a  secret  treaty  which  shared  the 
Spanish  dominions  between  the  two  monarchs  in  case  the  King  of 
Spain  died  without  an  heir.  England,  as  he  believed,  was  held  in 
check  by  Charles,  and  like  Holland  was  too  exhausted  by  the  late  war 
to  meddle  with  a  new  one.  On  the  very  day  therefore  on  which  the 
treaty  was  signed  he  sent  in  his  formal  claims  on  the  Low  Countries, 
and  his  army  at  once  took  the  field.  The  greater  part  of  Flanders 
was  occupied  and  six  great  fortresses  secured  in  two  months. 
Franche  Comtd  was  overrun  in  seventeen  days.  Holland  protested 
and  appealed  to  England  for  aid  ;  but  her  appeals  remained  at  first 
unanswered.     England  sought  in  fact  to  tempt  Holland,  Spain,  and 


IX.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


637 


France  in  turn  by  secret  offers  of  alliance.  From  France  she  de- 
manded, as  the  price  of  her  aid  against  Holland  and  peihaps  Spain,  a 
share  in  the  eventual  partition  of  the  Spanish  dominions,  and  an 
alignment  to  her  in  such  a  case  of  the  Spanish  Empire  in  the  New 
World.  But  all  her  offers  were  alike  refused.  The  need  of  action 
became  clearer  every  hour  to  the  English  ministers,  and  wider  views 
gradually  set  aside  the  narrow  dreams  of  merely  national  aggrandize- 
ment. The  victories  of  Lewis,  the  sudden  revelation  of  the  strength 
of  France,  roused  even  in  the  most  tolerant  minds  a  dread  of  Catho- 
licism. Men  felt  instinctively  that  the  very  existence  of  Protestantism 
and  with  it  of  civil  freedom  was  again  to  be  at  stake.  Arlington 
himself  had  a  Dutch  wife  and  had  resided  in  Spain  ;  and  Catholic  as 
in  heart  he  was,  thought  more  of  the  political  interests  of  England, 
and  of  the  invariable  resolve  of  its  statesmen  since  Elizabeth's  day  to 
keep  the  French  out  of  Flanders,  than  of  the  interests  of  Catholicism. 
Lewis,  warned  of  his  danger,  strove  to  lull  the  general  excitement  by 
offers  of  peace  to  Spain,  while  he  was  writing  to  Turenne,  "  I  am 
turning  over  in  my  head  things  that  are  far  from  impossible,  and  go 
to  carry  them  into  execution  whatever  they  may  cost.''  Three  armies 
were,  in  fact,  ready  to  march  on  Spain,  Germany,  and  Flanders,  when^ 
Arlington  despatched  Sir  William  Temple  to  the  Hague,  and  the 
signature  of  a  Triple  AUiance  between  England,  Holland,  and  Sweden 
bound  Lewis  to  the  terms  he  had  offered  as  a  blind,  and  forced  on 
him  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle, 

Few  measures  have  won  a  greater  popularity  than  the  Triple  Alliance. 
"  It  is  the  only  good  public  thing,"  says  Pepys,  "  that  hath  been  done 
since  the  King  came  to  England."  Even  Dryden,  writing  at  the  time 
as  a  Tory,  counted  among  the  worst  of  Shaftesbury's  crimes  that  "  the 
Triple  Bond  he  broke."  In  form  indeed  the  AlHance  simply  bound 
Lewis  to  adhere  to  terms  of  peace  proposed  by  himself,  and  those 
advantageous  terms.  But  in  fact  it  utterly  ruined  his  plans.  It  brought 
about  too  that  union  of  the  powers  of  Europe  against  which,  as  Lewis 
felt  instinctively,  his  ambition  would  dash  itself  in  vain.  It  was  Arling- 
ton's aim  to  make  the  Alliance  the  nucleus  of  a  greater  confederation  ; 
and  he  tried  not  only  to  perpetuate  it,  but  to  include  within  it  the 
Swiss  Cantons,  the  Empire,  and  the  House  of  Austria.  His  efforts  were 
foiled  ;  but  the  "Triple  Bond"  bore  within  it  the  germs  of  the  Grand 
Alliance  which  at  last  saved  Europe.  To  England  it  at  once  brought 
back  the  reputation  which  she  had  lost  since  the  death  of  Cromwell. 
It  was  a  sign  of  her  re-entry  on  the  general  stage  of  European  politics, 
and  of  the  formal  adoption  of  the  balance  of  power  as  a  policy  essential 
to  the  welfare  of  Europe  at  large.  But  it  was  not  so  much  the  action 
of  England  which  had  galled  the  pride  of  Lewis,  as  the  action  of 
Holland.  That  "a  nation-  of  shopkeepers"  (for  Lewis  applied  the 
phrase  to  Holland  long  before  Napoleon  applied  it  to  England)  should 


638 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


have  foiled  his  plans  at  the  very  moment  of  their  realization,  "  stung 
him,"  he  owned,  "to  the  quick."  If  he  refrained  from  an  instant 
attack  it  was  to  nurse  a  surer  revenge.  His  steady  aim  during  the 
four  years  which  followed  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  was  to  isolate 
the  United  Provinces,  to  bring  about  the  neutrality  of  the  Empire 
in  any  attack  on  them,  to  break  the  Triple  Alliance  by  detaching 
Sweden  from  it  and  securing  Charles,  and  to  leave  the  Dutch  without 
help,  save  from  the  idle  goodwill  of  Brandenburg  and  Spain.  His 
diplomacy  was  everywhere  successful,  but  it  was  nowhere  so  successful 
as  with  England.  Charles  had  been  stirred  to  a  momentary  pride  by 
the  success  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  but  he  had  never  seriously  aban- 
doned his  policy,  and  he  was  resolute  at  last  to  play  an  active  part  in 
realizing  it.  It  was  clear  that  little  was  to  be  hoped  for  from  his  old 
plans  of  winning  toleration  for  the  Catholics  from  his  new  ministers, 
and  that  in  fact  they  were  resolute  to  bring  about  such  a  union  of  Pro- 
testants as  would  have  been  fatal  to  his  designs.  From  this  moment 
he  resolved  to  seek  for  his  advantage  from  France.  The  Triple  Alliance 
was  hardly  concluded  when  he  declared  to  Lewis  his  purpose  of  enter- 
ing into  an  alliance  with  him,  ofifensive  and  defensive.  He  owned  to 
being  the  only  man  in  his  kingdom  who  desired  such  a  league,  but  he 
was  determined  to  realize  his  desire,  whatever  might  be  the  sentiments 
of  his  ministers.  His  ministers,  indeed,  he  meant  either  to  bring  over 
to  his  schemes  or  to  outwit.  Two  of  them,  Arlington  and  Sir  Thomas 
Clifford,  were  Catholics  in  heart  like  the  King ;  and  they  were  sum- 
moned, with  the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  already  secretly  embraced 
Catholicism,  and  two  Catholic  nobles,  to  a  conference  in  which  Charles, 
after  pledging  them  to  secrecy,  declared  himself  a  Catholic,  and  asked 
their  counsel  as  to  the  means  of  establishing  the  Catholic  religion  in 
his  realm.  It  was  resolved  to  apply  to  Lewis  for  aid  in  this  purpose  ; 
and  Charles  proceeded  to  seek  from  the  King  a  "  protection,"  to  use 
the  words  of  the  French  ambassador,  "  of  which  he  always  hoped  to 
feel  the  powerful  effects  in  the  execution  of  his  design  of  changing  the 
present  state  of  religion  in  England  for  a  better,  and  of  establishing 
his  authority  so  as  to  be  able  to  retain  his  subjects  in  the  obedience 
they  owe  him."  The  fall  of  Holland  was  as  needful  for  the  success  of 
the  plans  of  Charles  as  of  Lewis;  and  with  the  ink  of  the  Triple 
AUiance  hardly  dry,  Charles  promised  help  in  Lewis's  schemes  for  the 
ruin  of  Holland  and  the  annexation  of  Flanders.  He  offered  therefore 
to  declare  his  religion  and  to  join  France  in  an  attack  on  Holland,  if 
Lewis  would  grant  him  a  subsidy  equal  to  a  million  a  year.  In  the 
event  of  the  King  of  Spain's  death  without  a  son  Charles  pledged 
himself  to  support  France  in  her  claims  upon  Flanders,  while  Lewis 
promised  to  assent  to  the  designs  of  England  on  the  Spanish  dominions 
in  America.  On  this  basis,  after  a  year's  negotiations,  a  secret  treaty 
was  concluded  at  Dover  in   an   interview  between  Charles  and  his 


TX.I 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


639 


sister  Henrietta,  the  Duchess  of  Orleans.  It  provided  that  Charles 
should  announce  his  conversion,  and  that  in  case  of  any  disturbance 
arising  from  such  a  step  he  should  be  supported  by  a  French  army  and 
a  French  subsidy.  War  was  to  be  declared  by  both  powers  against 
Holland,  England  furnishing  a  small  land  force,  but  bearing  the  chief 
burthen  of  the  contest  at  sea,  on  condition  of  an  annual  subsidy  of 
three  hundred  thousand  pounds. 

Nothing  marks  better  the  political  profligacy  of  the  age  than  that 
Arlington,  the  author  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  should  have  been  chosen 
as  the  confidant  of  Charles  in  his  treaty  of  Dover.  But  to  all  save 
ArUngton  and  Clifford  the  King's  change  of  religion  or  his  political 
aims  remained  utterly  unknown.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to 
obtain  the  consent  of  the  party  in  the  royal  council  which  represented 
the  old  Presbyterians,  of  Ashley  or  Lauderdale  or  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, to  the  Treaty  of  Dover.  But  it  was  possible  to  trick  them  into 
approval  of  a  war  with  Holland  by  playing  on  their  desire  for  a 
toleration  of  the  Nonconformists.  The  announcement  of  the  King's 
Catholicism  was  therefore  deferred  ;  and  a  series  of  mock  negotiations, 
carried  on  through  Buckingham,  ended  in  the  conclusion  of  a  sham 
treaty  which  was  communicated  to  Lauderdale  and  to  Ashley,  a  treaty 
which  suppressed  all  mention  of  the  religious  changes  or  of  the 
promise  of  French  aid  in  bringing  them  about,  and  simply  stipulated 
for  a  joint  war  against  the  Dutch.  In  such  a  war  there  was  no  formal 
breach  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  for  the  Triple  Alliance  only  guarded 
against  an  attack  on  the  dominions  of  Spain,  and  Ashley  and  his 
colleagues  were  lured  into  assent  to  it  in  I671  by  the  promise  of  a 
toleration  on  their  own  terms.  C?iarles  in  fact  yielded  the  point  to 
which  he  had  hitherto  clung,  and,  as  Ashley  demanded,  promised  that 
no  Catholic  should  be  benefited  by  the  Indulgence.  The  bargain  once 
struck,  and  his  ministers  outwitted,  it  only  remained  foi  Charles  to 
outwit  his  Parliament.  A  large  subsidy  had  been  demanded  in  1670  for 
the  fleet,  under  the  pretext  of  upholding  the  Triple  Alliance  ;  and  the 
subsidy  was  granted.  In  the  spring  the  two  Houses  were  adjourned. 
So  great  was  the  national  opposition  to  his  schemes  that  Charles  was 
driven  to  plunge  hastily  into  hostilities.  An  attack  on  a  Dutch 
convoy  was  at  once  followed  by  a  declaration  of  war,  and  fresh  supplies 
were  obtained  for  the  coming  struggle  by  closing  the  Exchequer,  and 
suspending  under  Cliflbrd's  advice  the  payment  of  either  principal  or  1 
interest  on  loans  advanced  to  the  public  Treasury.  The  suspension  ' 
spread  bankruptcy  among  half  the  goldsmiths  of  London  ;  but  with 
the  opening  of  the  war  Ashley  and  his  colleagues  gained  the  toleration 
they  had  bought  so  dear.  By  virtue  of  his  ecclesiastical  powers  the 
King  ordered  "  that  all  manner  of  penal  laws  on  matters  ecclesiastical 
against  whatever  sort  of  Nonconformists  or  recusants  should  be  from 
that  day  suspended,"  and    gave    liberty   of   public    worship  to  all 


Sec  111. 

Charles 

THr 
Second 

1667 

TO 

1673 


Tht 
Declara- 
tion of 
Indul- 
gence 


The  Cabal 
and  the  wa. 


1671 


167a 


640 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF 


Sec.  III. 
Charles 

THB 

Second 
1667 

TO 

1673 


The 
War  wltb 
Holland 


»«»73 


Ritt  of  the 
Country 
Party 


dissidents  save  Catholics,  who  were  allowed  to  say  mass  only  in 
private  houses.  The  effect  of  the  Declaration  went  far  to  justify 
Ashley  and  his  colleagues  (if  anything  could  justify  their  course)  in 
the  bargain  by  which  they  purchased  toleration.  Ministers  returned, 
after  years  of  banishment,  to  their  homes  and  their  flocks.  Chapels 
were  reopened.  The  gaols  were  emptied.  Bunyan  left  his  prison  at 
Bedford  ;  and  hundreds  of  Quakers,  who  had  been  the  special  objects 
of  persecution,  were  set  free  to  worship  God  after  their  own  fashion. 

The  Declaration  of  Indulgence  however  failed  to  win  any  expression 
of  gratitude  from  the  bulk  of  the  Nonconformists.  Dear  as  toleration 
was  to  them,  the  general  interests  of  religion  were  dearer,  and  not 
only  these  but  national  freedom  was  now  at  stake.  The  success  of  the 
Allies  seemed  at  first  complete.  The  French  army  passed  the  Rhine, 
overran  three  of  the  States  without  opposition,  and  pushed  its  outposts 
to  within  sight  of  Amsterdam.  It  was  only  by  skill  and  desperate 
courage  that  the  Dutch  ships  under  De  Ruyter  held  the  English  fleet 
under  the  Duke  of  York  at  bay  in  an  obstinate  battle  off  the  coast  of 
Suffolk.  The  triumph  of  the  English  cabinet  was  shown  in  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  leaders  of  both  its  parties.  Ashley  was  made  Chancellor 
and  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  and  Clifford  became  Lord  Treasurer.  But 
the  Dutch  were  saved  by  the  stubborn  courage  which  awoke  before 
the  arrogant  demands  of  the  conqueror.  The  plot  of  the  two  Courts 
hung  for  success  on  the  chances  of  a  rapid  surprise  ;  and  with  the 
approach  of  winter  which  suspended  military  operations,  all  chance  of 
a  surprise  was  over.  The  death  of  De  Witt,  the  leader  of  the  great 
merchant  class,  called  William  the  Prince  of  Orange  to  the  head  of 
i  the  Republic.  Young  as  he  was,  he  at  once  displayed  the  cool  courage 
and  tenacity  of  his  race.  "Do  you  not  see  your  country  is  lost?" 
asked  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  had  been  sent  to  negotiate  at 
the  Hague.  "  There  is  a  sure  way  never  to  see  it  lost,"  replied  William, 
"  and  that  is,  to  die  in  the  last  ditch."  With  the  spring  the  tide 
began  to  turn.  Holland  was  saved  and  province  after  province  won 
back  from  France  by  William's  dauntless  resolve.  In  England  the 
delay  of  winter  had  exhausted  the  supplies  which  had  been  so  un- 
scrupulously procured,  while  the  closing  of  the  Treasury  had  shaken 
credit  and  rendered  it  impossible  to  raise  a  loan.  It  was  necessary  in 
1673  to  appeal  to  the  Commons,  but  the  Commons  met  in  a  mood  of 
angry  distrust.  The  war,  unpopular  as  it  was,  they  left  alone.  What 
overpowered  all  other  feelings  'vas  a  vague  sense,  which  we  know  now 
to  have  been  justified  by  the  facts,  that  liberty  and  religion  were  being 
unscrupulously  betrayed.  There  was  a  suspicion  that  the  whole  armed 
force  of  the  nation  was  in  Catholic  hands.  The  Duke  of  York  was 
suspected  of  being  in  heart  a  Papist,  and  he  was  in  command  of  the 
i  fleet.  Catholics  had  been  placed  as  officers  in  the  force  which  was 
[  being  raised  for  the  war  in   Holland.     Lady  Castlemaine,  the  King  % 


IX.  7 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


641 


mistress,  paraded  her  conversion  ;  and  doubts  were  fast  gathering 
over  the  Protestantism  of  the  King.  There  was  a  general  suspicion 
that  a  plot  was  on  foot  for  the  establishment  of  Catholicism  and  des- 
potism, and  that  the  war  and  the  Indulgence  were  parts  of  the  plot. 
The  change  of  temper  in  the  Commons  was  marked  by  the  appearance 
of  what  was  from  that  time  called  the  Country  party,  with  Lord 
Russell,  Lord  Cavendish,  and  Sir  William  Coventry  at  its  head,  a 
party  which  sympathized  with  the  desire  of  the  Nonconformists  for 
religious  toleration,  but  looked  on  it  as  its  first  duty  to  guard  against 
the  designs  of  the  Court.  As  to  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  how- 
ever, all  parties  in  the  House  were  at  one.  The  Commons  resolved 
"  that  penal  statutes  in  matters  ecclesiastical  cannot  be  suspended  but 
by  consent  of  Parhament,"  and  refused  supplies  till  the  Declaration 
was  recalled.  The  King  yielded  ;  but  the  Declaration  was  no  sooner 
recalled  than  a  Test  Act  was  passed  through  both  Houses  without 
opposition,  which  required  from  every  one  in  the  civil  and  military 
employment  of  the  State  the  oaths  of  allegiance  and  supremacy,  a 
declaration  against  tran substantiation,  and  a  reception  of  the  sacra- 
ment according  to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England.  It  was  known 
that  the  Protestant  dissidents  were  prepared  to  waive  all  objection  to 
oath  or  sacrament,  while  the  Bill  would  wholly  exclude  Catholics  from 
share  in  the  government.  Clifford  at  once  counselled  resistance,  and 
Buckingham  talked  flightily  about  bringing  the  army  to  London.  But 
the  grant  of  a  subsidy  was  still  held  in  suspense  ;  and  Arhngton,  who 
saw  that  all  hope  of  carrying  the  "  great  plan  "  through  was  at  an  end, 
pressed  Charles  to  yield.  A  dissolution  was  the  King's  only  resource, 
but  in  the  temper  of  the  nation  a  new  Parliament  would  have  been 
yet  more  violent  than  the  present  one  ;  and  Charles  sullenly  gave  way. 
Few  measures  have  ever  brought  about  more  startling  results.  The 
Duke  of  York  owned  himself  a  Catholic,  and  resigned  his  office  as 
Lord  High  Admiral.  Throngs  of  excited  people  gathered  round  the 
Lord  Treasurer's  house  at  the  news  that  Clifford,  too,  had  owned  to 
being  a  Catholic  and  had  laid  down  his  staff  of  office.  Their  resigna- 
tion was  followed  by  that  of  hundreds  of  others  in  the  army  and  the 
civil  service  of  the  Crown.  On  public  opinion  the  effect  was  wonderful. 
"  I  dare  not  write  all  the  strange  talk  of  the  town,"  says  Evelyn.  The 
resignations  were  held  to  have  proved  the  existence  of  the  dangers 
which  the  Test  Act  had  been  framed  to  meet.  From  this  moment  all 
trust  in  Charles  was  at  an  end.  "  The  King,''  Shaftesbury  said  bitterly, 
"who  if  he  had  been  so  happy  as  to  have  been  born  a  private  gentle- 
man had  certainly  passed  for  a  man  of  good  parts,  excellent  breeding, 
and  well  natured,  hath  now,  being  a  Prince,  brought  his  affairs  to  that 
pass  that  there  is  not  a  person  in  the  world,  man  or  woman,  that  dares 
rely  upon  him  or  put  any  confidence  in  his  word  or  friendship." 


642 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Section  IV.— Danby.    1673-1678. 

[Authoriiies. — As  before.  Mr.  Christie's  "  Life  of  Shaftesbury,"  a  defence, 
and  in  some  respects  a  successful  defence,  of  that  statesman's  career,  throws  a 
fresh  light  on  the  policy  of  the  Whig  party  during  this  period.] 

The  one  man  in  England  on  whom  the  discovery  of  the  King's 
perfidy  fell  with  the  most  crushing  effect  was  the  Chancellor,  Lord 
Shaftesbury.  Ashley  Cooper  had  piqued  himself  on  a  penetration 
which  read  the  characters  of  men  around  him,  and  on  a  political 
instinct  which  discerned  every  coming  change.  His  self-reliance  was 
wonderful.  In  mere  boyhood  he  saved  his  estate  from  the  greed  of  his 
guardians  by  boldly  appealing  in  person  to  Noy,  who  was  then  Attorney- 
General.  As  an  undergraduate  at  Oxford  he  organized  a  rebellion  of 
the  freshmen  against  the  oppressive  customs  which  were  enforced  by 
the  senior  men  of  his  college,  and  succeeded  in  abolishing  them.  At 
eighteen  he  was  a  member  of  the  Short  Parliament.  On  the  outbreak 
of  the  Civil  War  he  took  part  with  the  King  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the 
royal  successes  he  foresaw  the  ruin  of  the  royal  cause,  passed  to  the 
Parliament,  attached  himself  to  the  fortunes  of  Cromwell,  and  became 
member  of  the  Council  of  State.  Before  all  things  a  strict  Parlia- 
mentarian, however,  he  was  alienated  by  Cromwell's  setting  up  of 
absolute  rule  without  Parliament ;  and  a  temporary  disgrace  during 
the  last  years  of  the  Protectorate  only  quickened  him  to  an  active 
opposition  which  did  much  to  bring  about  its  fall.  His  bitter  invec- 
tives against  the  dead  Protector,  his  intrigues  with  Monk,  and  the 
active  part  which  he  took,  as  member  of  the  Council  of  State,  in  the 
King's  recall,  were  rewarded  at  the  Restoration  with  a  peerage,  and 
with  promotion  to  a  foremost  share  in  the  royal  councils.  Ashley 
was  then  a  man  of  forty,  and  under  the  Commonwealth  he  had 
been,  in  the  contemptuous  phrase  of  Dryden  when  writing  as  a 
Tory,  "the  loudest  bagpipe  of  the  squeaking  train;"  but  he  was 
no  sooner  a  minister  of  Charles  than  he  flung  himself  into  the  de- 
bauchery of  the  Court  with  an  ardour  which  surprised  even  his 
master.  "  You  are  the  wickedest  dog  in  England  ! "  laughed  Charles 
at  some  unscrupulous  jest  of  his  counsellor's.  "  Of  a  subject,  Sir,  I 
believe  I  am  ! "  was  the  unabashed  reply.  But  the  debauchery  of 
Ashley  was  simply  a  mask.  He  was  in  fact  temperate  by  nature  and 
habit,  and  his  ill-health  rendered  any  great  excess  impossible.  Men 
soon  found  that  the  courtier  who  lounged  in  Lady  Castlemaine's 
boudoir,  or  drank  and  jested  with  Sedley  and  Buckingham,  was  a 
diligent  and  able  man  of  business.  "  He  is  a  man,"  says  the  puzzled 
Pepys,  three  years  after  the  Restoration,  *'  of  great  business,  and  yet 
cf  pleasure  and  dissipation  too."  His  rivals  were  as  envious  of  the 
ease  and  mastery  with  which  he  dealt  with  questions  of  finance,  as  of 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


643 


the  "nimble  wit"  which  won  the  favour  of  the  King^.  Even  in  later 
years  his  industry  earned  the  grudging  praise  of  his  enemies.  Dryden 
owned  that  as  Chancellor  he  was  "swift  to  despatch  and  easy  of 
access,"  and  wondered  at  the  restless  activity  which  "refused  his  age 
the  needful  hours  of  rest."  His  activity  indeed  was  the  more  wonderful 
that  his  health  was  utterly  broken.  An  accident  in  early  days  left 
behind  it  an  abiding  weakness,  whose  traces  were  seen  in  the  furrows 
which  seared  his  long  pale  face,  in  the  feebleness  of  his  health,  and 
the  nervous  tremor  which  shook  his  puny  frame.  The  "  pigmy  body'' 
was  "  fretted  to  decay  "  by  the  "  fiery  soul "  within  it.  But  pain  and 
weakness  brought  with  them  no  sourness  of  spirit.  Ashley  was 
attacked  more  unscrupulously  than  any  statesman  save  Walpole  ;  but 
Burnet,  who  did  not  love  him,  owns  that  he  was  never  bitter  or  angry 
in  speaking  of  his  assailants.  Even  the  wit  with  which  he  crushed 
them  was  commonly  good-humoured.  "  When  will  you  have  done 
preaching  ?  "  a  bishop  murmured  testily,  as  Shaftesbury  was  speaking 
in  the  House  of  Peers.  "  When  I  am  a  bishop,  my  Lord  !  "  was  the 
laughing  reply. 

As  a  statesman  Ashley  not  only  stood  high  among  his  contemporaries 
from  his  wonderful  readiness  and  industry,  but  he  stood  far  above  them 
in  his  scorn  of  personal  profit.  Even  Dryden,  while  raking  together 
every  fault  in  his  character,  owns  that  his  hands  were  clean.  Asa 
political  leader  his  position  was  to  modern  eyes  odd  enough.  In 
religion  he  was  at  best  a  Deist,  with  some  fanciful  notions  "  that  after 
death  our  souls  lived  in  stars."  But  Deist  as  he  was,  he  remained  the 
representative  of  the  Presbyterian  and  Nonconformist  party  in  the 
royal  council.  He  was  the  steady  and  vehement  advocate  of  tolera- 
tion, but  his  advocacy  was  based  on  purely  political  grounds.  He  saw 
that  persecution  would  fail  to  bring  back  the  Dissenters  to  the  Church, 
and  that  the  effort  to  recall  them  only  left  the  country  disunited,  and 
thus  exposed  English  liberty  to  invasion  from  the  Crown,  and  robbed 
England  of  all  influence  in  Europe.  The  one  means  of  uniting 
Churchmen  and  Dissidents  was  by  a  policy  of  toleration,  but  in  the 
temper  of  England  after  the  Restoration  he  saw  no  hope  of  obtaining 
toleration  save  from  the  King.  Wit,  debauchery,  rapidity  in  the 
despatch  of  business,  were  all  therefore  used  as  a  means  to  gain 
influence  over  the  King,  and  to  secure  him  as  a  friend  in  the  struggle 
which  Ashley  carried  on  against  the  intolerance  of  Clarendon.  Charles, 
as  we  have  seen,  had  his  own  game  to  play  and  his  own  reasons  for 
protecting  Ashley  during  his  vehement  but  fruitless  struggle  against 
the  Test  and  Corporation  Act,  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  and  the  perse- 
cution of  the  Dissidents.  Fortune  at  last  smiled  on  the  unscrupulous 
ability  with  which  he  entangled  Clarendon  in  the  embarrassments  of 
the  Dutch  war  of  1664,  and  took  advantage  of  the  alienation  of  the 
Parliament  to  ensure  his  fall.     By  a  yet  more  unscrupulous  bargain 


«44 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Ashley  had  bought,  as  he  believed,  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  the 
release  of  the  imprisoned  Nonconformists,  and  freedom  of  worship  for 
all  dissidents,  at  the  price  of  a  consent  to  the  second  attack  on 
Holland  ;  and  he  was  looked  on  by  the  public  at  large  as  the  minister 
most  responsible  both  for  the  measures  he  advised  and  the  measures 
he  had  nothing  to  do  with.  But  while  facing  the  gathering  storm  of 
unpopularity  Ashley  learnt  in  a  moment  of  drunken  confidence  the 
secret  of  the  King's  religion.  He  owned  to  a  friend  "  his  trouble  at  the 
black  cloud  which  was  gathering  over  England  ; "  but,  troubled  as  he 
was,  he  still  believed  himself  strong  enough  to  use  Charles  for  his  own 
purposes.  His  acceptance  of  the  Chancellorship  and  of  the  Earldom 
of  Shaftesbury,  as  well  as  his  violent  defence  of  the  war  on  opening  the 
Parliament,  identified  him  yet  more  with  the  royal  policy.  It  was 
after  the  opening  of  the  Parliament,  if  we  credit  the  statement  of  the 
French  Ambassador,  that  he  learnt  from  Arlington  the  secret  of  the 
Treaty  of  Dover.  Whether  this  were  so,  or  whether  suspicion,  as  in 
the  people  at  large,  deepened  into  certainty,  Shaftesbury  saw  he  had 
been  duped.  To  the  bitterness  of  such  a  discovery  was  added  the 
bitterness  of  having  aided  in  schemes  which  he  abhorred.  His  change 
of  policy  was  rapid  and  complete.  He  pressed  in  the  royal  council  for 
the  withdrawal  of  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  In  Parliament  he 
supported  the  Test  Act  with  extraordinary  vehemence.  The  displace- 
ment of  James  and  Clifford  by  the  Test  left  him,  as  he  thought,  dominant 
in  the  royal  council,  and  gave  him  hopes  of  revenging  the  deceit  which 
had  been  practised  on  him  by  forcing  his  policy  on  the  King.  He  was 
resolved  to  end  the  war.  He  had  dreams  of  meeting  the  danger  of  a 
Catholic  successor  by  a  dissolution  of  the  King's  marriage  and  by  a 
fresh  match  with  a  Protestant  princess.  For  the  moment  indeed 
Charles  was  helpless.  He  found  himself,  as  he  had  told  Lewis  long 
before,  alone  in  his  realm.  The  Test  Act  had  been  passed  unani- 
mously by  both  Houses.  Even  the  Nonconformists  deserted  him,  and 
preferred  persecution  to  the  support  of  his  plans.  The  dismissal  of  the 
Catholic  officers  made  the  employment  of  force,  if  he  ever  contemplated 
it,  impossible,  while  the  ill  success  of  the  Dutch  war  robbed  him  of  all 
hope  of  aid  from  France.  The  firmness  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  had 
roused  the  stubborn  energy  of  his  countrymen.  The  French  conquests 
on  land  were  slowly  won  back,  and  at  sea  the  fleet  of  the  allies  was 
still  held  in  check  by  the  fine  seamanship  of  De  Ruyter.  Nor  was 
William  less  successful  in  diplomacy  than  in  war.  The  House  of 
Austria  was  at  last  roused  to  action  by  the  danger  which  threatened 
Europe,  and  its  union  with  the  United  Provinces  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  Grand  Alliance.  If  Charles  was  firm  to  continue  the  war, 
Shaftesbury,  like  the  Parliament  itself,  was  resolved  on  peace  ;  and  for 
this  purpose  he  threw  himself  into  hearty  alliance  with  the  Country 
party  in  the  Commons,  and  welcomed  the  Duke  of  Ormond  and  Princ* 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


645 


Rupert,  who  were  looked  upon  as  "  great  Parliament  men/'  back  to 
the  royal  council.  It  was  to  Shaftesbury's  influence  that  Charles 
attributed  the  dislike  which  the  Commons  displayed  to  the  war,  and 
their  refusal  of  a  grant  of  supplies  until  fresh  religious  securities  were 
devised.  It  was  at  his  instigation  that  an  address  was  presented  by 
both  Houses  against  the  plan  of  marrying  James  to  a  Catholic 
princess,  Mary  of  Modena.  But  the  projects  of  Shaftesbury  were 
suddenly  interrupted  by  an  unexpected  act  of  vigour  on  the  part  of 
the  King.  The  Houses  were  no  sooner  prorogued  in  November  than 
the  Chancellor  was  ordered  to  deliver  up  the  Seals. 

"It  is  only  laying  down  my  gown  and  buckling  on  my  sword," 
Shaftesbury  is  said  to  have  replied  to  the  royal  bidding ;  and,  though 
the  words  were  innocent  enough,  for  the  sword  was  part  of  the  usual 
dress  of  a  gentleman  which  he  must  necessarily  resume  when  he  laid 
aside  the  gown  of  the  Chancellor,  they  were  taken  as  conveying  a  covert 
threat.  He  was  still  determined  to  force  on  the  King  a  peace  with  the 
States.  But  he  looked  forward  to  the  dangers  of  the  future  with  even 
greater  anxiety  than  to  those  of  the  present.  The  Duke  of  York,  the 
successor  to  the  throne,  had  owned  himself  a  Catholic,  and  almost 
every  one  agreed  that  securities  for  the  national  religion  would  be 
necessary  in  the  case  of  his  accession.  But  Shaftesbury  saw,  and  it  is 
his  especial  merit  that  he  did  see,  that  with  a  king  like  James,  convinced 
of  his  Divine  Right  and  bigoted  in  his  religious  fervour,  securities 
were  valueless.  From  the  first  he  determined  to  force  on  Charles  his 
brother's  exclusion  from  the  throne,  and  his  resolve  was  justified  by 
the  Revolution  which  finally  did  the  work  he  proposed  to  do.  Un- 
happily he  was  equally  determined  to  fight  Charles  with  weapons  as 
vile  as  his  own.  The  result  of  Clifford's  resignation,  of  James's 
acknowledgement  of  his  conversion,  had  been  to  destroy  all  belief  in 
the  honesty  of  public  men.  A  panic  of  distrust  had  begun.  The  fatal 
truth  was  whispered  that  Charles  himself  was  a  Catholic.  In  spite  of 
the  Test  Act,  it  was  suspected  that  men  Catholics  in  heart  still  held 
high  office  in  the  State,  and  we  know  that  in  Arlington's  case  the 
suspicion  was  just.  Shaftesbury  seized  on  this  public  alarm,  stirred 
above  all  by  a  sense  of  inability  to  meet  the  secret  dangers  which  day 
after  day  was  disclosing,  as  the  means  of  carrying  out  his  plans.  He 
began  fanning  the  panic  by  tales  of  a  Papist  rising  in  London,  and 
of  a  coming  Irish  revolt  with  a  French  army  to  back  it.  He  retired  to 
his  house  in  the  City  to  find  security  against  a  conspiracy  which  had 
bean  formed,  he  said,  to  cut  his  throat.  Meanwhile  he  rapidly  organized 
the  Country  party  in  the  Parliament,  and  placed  himself  openly  at  its 
head.  An  address  for  the  removal  of  ministers  "  popishly  affected  or 
otherwise  obnoxious  or  dangerous  "  was  presented  on  the  reassembling 
of  the  Houses.  The  Commons  called  on  the  King  to  dismiss  Lauder- 
dale, Buckingham,  and  Arlington,  and  to  disband  the  troops  raised 


646 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


since  1664.  A  bill  was  brought  in  to  prevent  all  Catholics  from 
approaching  the  Court,  in  other  words  for  removing  James  from  the 
King's  councils.  A  far  more  important  bill  was  that  of  the  Protestant 
Securities,  which  was  pressed  by  Shaftesbury,  Halifax,  and  Carlisle, 
the  leaders  of  the  new  Opposition  in  the  House  of  Lords,  a  bill  which 
enacted  that  any  prince  of  the  blood  should  forfeit  his  right  to  the 
Crown  on  his  marriage  with  a  Catholic.  The  bill,  which  was  the  first 
sketch  of  the  later  Exclusion  Bill,  failed  to  pass,  but  its  failure  left  the 
Houses  excited  and  alarmed.  Shaftesbury  intrigued  busily  in  the  City, 
corresponded  with  William  of  Orange,  and  pressed  for  a  war  with 
France  which  Charles  could  only  avert  by  an  appeal  to  Lewis,  a  subsidy 
from  whom  enabled  him  to  prorogue  the  Parliament.  But  Charles  saw 
that  the  time  had  come  to  give  way.  "  Things  have  turned  out  ill,"  he 
said  to  Temple  with  a  burst  of  unusual  petulance,  "  but  had  I  been  well 
served  I  might  have  made  a  good  business  of  it."  His  concessions 
however  were  as  usual  complete.  He  dismissed  Buckingham  and 
Arlington.  He  made  peace  with  the  Dutch.  But  Charles  was  never 
more  formidable  than  in  the  moment  of  defeat,  and  he  had  already 
resolved  on  a  new  policy  by  which  the  efforts  of  Shaftesbury  might  be 
held  at  bay.  Ever  since  the  opening  of  his  reign  he  had  clung  to  a 
system  of  balance,  had  pitted  Churchman  against  Nonconformist,  and 
Ashley  against  Clarendon,  partly  to  preserve  his  own  independence,  and 
partly  with  a  view  of  winning  some  advantage  to  the  Catholics  from  the 
political  strife.  The  temper  of  the  Commons  had  enabled  Clarendon  to 
baffle  the  King's  efforts  ;  and  on  his  fall  Charles  felt  strong  enough  to 
abandon  the  attempt  to  preserve  a  political  balance,  and  had  sought 
to  carry  out  his  designs  with  the  single  support  of  the  Nonconformists. 
But  the  new  policy  had  broken  down  like  the  old.  The  Noncon- 
formists refused  to  betray  the  cause  of  Protestantism,  and  Shaftesbury, 
their  leader,  was  pressing  on  measures  which  would  rob  Catholicism 
of  the  hopes  it  had  gained  from  the  conversion  of  James.  In  straits 
like  these  Charles  resolved  to  win  back  the  Commons  by  boldly 
adopting  the  policy  on  which  the  House  was  set.  The  majority  of 
its  members  were  Cavalier  Churchmen,  who  regarded  Sir  Thomas 
Osborne,  a  dependant  of  Arlington's,  as  their  representative  in  the 
royal  councils.  The  King  had  already  created  Osborne  Earl  of  Danby, 
and  made  him  Lord  Treasurer  in  Clifford's  room.  In  1674  he  frankly 
adopted  the  policy  of  Uanby  and  his  party  in  the  Parliament 

The  policy  of  Danby  was  in  the  main  that  of  Clarendon.  He  had 
all  Clarendon's  love  of  the  Church,  his  equal  hatred  of  Popery  and 
Dissent,  his  high  notions  of  the  prerogative  tempered  by  a  faith  in 
Parliament  and  the  law.  His  first  measures  were  directed  to  allay  the 
popular  panic,  and  strengthen  the  position  of  James.  Mary,  the 
Duke's  eldest  child  and  after  him  the  presumptive  heir  to  the  Crown, 
was  confirmed  by  the  royal  order  as  a  Protestant.^  Secret  negotiations 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


647 


were  opened  for  her  marriage  with  William  of  Orange,  the  son  of  the 
King's  sister  Mary,  who  if  James  and  his  house  were  excluded  stood 
next  in  succession  to  the  crown.  Such  a  marriage  secured  James 
against  the  one  formidable  rival  to  his  claims,  while  it  opened  to 
William  a  far  safer  chance  of  mounting  the  throne  at  his  father-in-law's 
death.  The  union  between  the  Church  and  the  Crown  was  ratified  in 
conferences  between  Danby  and  the  bishops  ;  and  its  first  fruits  were 
seen  in  the  rigorous  enforcement  of  the  law  against  conventicles,  and 
the  exclusion  of  all  Catholics  from  court ;  while  the  Parliament  which 
was  assembled  in  1675  was  assured  that  the  Test  Act  should  be 
rigorously  enforced.  The  change  in  the  royal  policy  came  not  a 
moment  too  soon.  As  it  was,  the  aid  of  the  Cavalier  party  which 
rallied  round  Danby  hardly  saved  the  King  from  the  humiliation  of 
being  forced  to  recall  the  troops  he  still  maintained  in  the  French 
service.  To  gain  a  majority  on  this  point  Danby  was  forced  to  avail 
himself  of  a  resource  which  from  this  time  played  for  nearly  a  hundred 
years  an  important  part  in  English  politics.  He  bribed  lavishly.  He 
was  more  successful  in  winning  back  the  majority  of  the  Commons 
from  their  alliance  with  the  Country  party  by  reviving  the  old  spirit  of 
religious  persecution.  He  proposed  that  the  test  which  had  been 
imposed  by  Clarendon  on  municipal  officers  should  be  extended  to  all 
functionaries  of  the  State  ;  that  every  member  of  either  House,  every 
magistrate  and  public  officer,  should  swear  never  to  take  arms  against 
the  King  or  to  "  endeavour  any  alteration  of  the  Protestant  religion 
now  established  by  law  in  the  Church  of  England,  or  any  alteration  in 
the  Government  in  Church  and  State  as  it  is  by  law  established."  The 
Bill  was  forced  through  the  Lords  by  the  bishops  and  the  Cavalier  party, 
and  its  passage  through  the  Commons  was  only  averted  by  a  quarrel 
on  privilege  between  the  two  Houses  which  Shaftesbury  dexterously 
fanned  into  flame.  On  the  other  hand  the  Country  party  remained 
strong  enough  to  hamper  their  grant  of  supplies  with  conditions 
unacceptable  to  the  King.  Eager  as  they  were  for  the  war  with  France 
which  Danby  promised,  the  Commons  could  not  trust  the  King ;  and 
Danby  was  soon  to  discover  how  wise  their  distrust  had  been.  For 
the  Houses  were  no  sooner  prorogued  than  Charles  revealed  to  him 
the  negotiations  he  had  been  all  the  while  carrying  on  with  Lewis,  and 
required  him  to  sign  a  treaty  by  which,  on  consideration  of  a  yea  ly 
pension  guaranteed  on  the  part  of  France,  the  two  sovereigns  bound 
themselves  to  enter  into  no  engagements  with  other  powers,  and  to 
lend  each  other  aid  in  case  of  rebellion  in  their  dominions.  Such  a 
treaty  not  only  bound  England  to  dependence  on  France,  but  freed  the 
King  from  all  Parliamentary  control.  But  his  minister  pleaded  in  vain 
for  delay  and  for  the  advice  of  the  Council.  Charles  answered  his 
entreaties  by  signing  the  treaty  with  his  own  hand.  Danby  found 
himself  duped  by  the  King  as  Shaftesbury  had  found  himself  duped  ; 


64& 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


but  his  bold  temper  was  only  spurred  to  fresh  plans  for  rescuing 
Charles  from  his  bondage  to  Lewis.  To  do  this  the  first  step  was 
to  reconcile  the  King  and  the  Parliament,  which  met  after  a  pro- 
rogation of  fifteen  months.  The  Country  party  stood  in  the  way  of 
such  a  reconciliation,  but  Danby  resolved  to  break  its  strength  by 
measures  of  unscrupulous  vigour,  for  which  a  blunder  of  Shaftesbury's 
gave  an  opportunity.  Shaftesbury  despaired  of  bringing  the  House  of 
Commons,  elected  as  it  had  been  fifteen  years  before  in  a  moment  of 
religious  and  political  reaction,  to  any  steady  opposition  to  the  Crown. 
He  had  already  moved  an  address  for  a  dissolution  ;  and  he  now  urged 
that  as  a  statute  of  Edward  the  Third  ordained  that  Parliaments 
should  be  held  "  once  a  year  or  oftener  if  need  be,"  the  Parliament  by 
the  recent  prorogation  of  a  year  and  a  half  had  ceased  legally  to  exist. 
The  Triennial  Act  deprived  such  an  argument  of  any  force.  But 
Danby  represented  it  as  a  contempt  of  the  House,  and  the  Lords  at 
his  bidding  committed  its  supporters,  Shaftesbury,  Buckingham,  Salis- 
bury, and  Wharton,  to  the  Tower.  While  the  Opposition  cowered 
under  the  blow,  Danby  pushed  on  a  measure  which  was  designed  to 
win  back  alarmed  Chirchmen  to  confidence  in  the  Crown.  By  the 
Bill  for  the  security  of  the  Church  it  was  provided  that  on  the  succes- 
sion of  a  king  not  a  member  of  the  Established  Church  the  appointment 
of  bishops  should  be  vested  in  the  existing  prelates,  and  that  the  King's 
children  should  be  placed  in  the  guardianship  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury. 

The  bill  however  failed  in  the  Commons  ;  and  a  grant  of  supply  was 
only  obtained  by  Danby's  profuse  bribery.  The  progress  of  the  war 
abroad,  indeed,  was  rousing  panic  in  England  faster  than  Danby  could 
allay  it.  New  successes  of  the  French  arms  in  Flanders,  and  a  defeat 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange  at  Cassel,  stirred  the  whole  country  to  a  cry 
for  war.  The  two  Houses  echoed  the  cry  in  an  address  to  the  Crown  ; 
but  Charles  parried  the  blow  by  demanding  a  supply  before  the  war 
was  declared,  and  on  the  refusal  of  the  still  suspicious  House  pro- 
rogued the  Parliament.  Fresh  and  larger  subsidies  from  France 
enabled  him  to  continue  this  prorogation  for  seven  months.  But  the 
silence  of  the  Parliament  did  little  to  silence  the  country  ;  and  Danby 
took  advantage  of  the  popular  cry  for  war  to  press  an  energetic  course 
of  action  on  the  King.  In  its  will  to  check  French  aggression  the 
Cavalier  party  was  as  earnest  as  the  Puritan,  and  Danby  aimed  at 
redeeming  his  failure  at  home  by  uniting  the  Parliament  through  a 
vigorous  policy  abroad.  As  usual,  Charles  appeared  to  give  way.  He 
was  himself  for  the  moment  uneasy  at  the  appearance  of  the  French  on 
the  Flemish  coast,  and  he  owned  that  "  he  could  never  live  at  ease 
with  his  subjects  "  if  Flanders  were  abandoned.  He  allowed  Danby, 
therefore,  to  press  on  both  parlies  the  necessity  for  mutual  concessions, 
and  to  define  the  new  altitude  of  England  by  a  step  which  was  to 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


649 


produce  momentous  results.  The  Prince  of  Orange  was  invited  to 
England,  and  wedded  to  Mary,  the  presumptive  heiress  of  the  Crown. 
The  marriage  promised  a  close  political  union  in  the  future  with 
Holland,  and  a  corresponding  opposition  to  the  ambition  of  France. 
With  the  country  it  was  popular  as  a  Protestant  match,  and  as 
ensuring  a  Protestant  successor  to  James.  But  Lewis  was  bitterly 
angered ;  he  rejected  the  English  propositions  of  peace,  and  again 
set  his  army  in  the  field.  Danby  was  ready  to  accept  the  challenge, 
and  the  withdrawal  of  the  EngHsh  ambassador  from  Paris  was  fol- 
lowed by  an  assembly  of  the  Parliament.  A  warlike  speech  from  the 
throne  was  answered  by  a  warlike  address  from  the  House,  supplies 
were  voted,  and  an  army  raised.  But  the  actual  declaration  of  war 
still  failed  to  appear.  While  Danby  threatened  France,  Charles  was 
busy  turning  the  threat  to  his  own  profit,  and  gaining  time  by  pro- 
rogations for  a  series  of  base  negotiations.  At  one  stage  he  demanded 
from  Lewis  a  fresh  pension  for  the  next  three  years  as  the  price  of  his 
good  offices  with  the  allies.  Danby  stooped  to  write  the  demand,  and 
Charles  added,  "  This  letter  is  written  by  my  order,  C.R."  A  force  of 
three  thousand  English  soldiers  were  landed  at  Ostend  ;  but  the  allies 
were  already  broken  by  their  suspicions  of  the  King's  real  policy,  and 
Charles  soon  agreed  for  a  fresh  pension  to  recall  the  brigade.  The 
bargain  was  hardly  struck  when  Lewis  withdrew  the  terms  of  peace 
he  had  himself  offered,  and  on  the  faith  of  which  England  had  osten- 
sibly retired  from  the  scene.  Once  more  Danby  offered  aid  to  the 
allies,  but  all  faith  in  England  was  lost.  One  power  after  another 
gave  way  to  the  new  French  demands,  and  though  Holland,  the  original 
cause  of  the  war,  was  saved,  the  Peace  of  Nimeguen  made  Lewis  the 
arbiter  of  Europe. 

Disgraceful  as  the  peace  was  to  England,  it  left  Charles  the  master  of 
a  force  of  twenty  thousand  men  levied  for  the  war  he  refused  to  declare, 
and  with  nearly  a  million  of  French  money  in  his  pocket.  His  course 
had  roused  into  fresh  life  the  old  suspicions  of  his  perfidy,  and  of  a 
secret  plot  with  Lewis  for  the  ruin  of  English  freedom  and  of  English 
religion.  That  there  was  such  a  plot  we  know  ;  and  from  the  moment 
of  the  Treaty  of  Dover  the  hopes  of  the  Cathohc  party  mounted  even 
faster  than  the  panic  of  the  Protestants.  But  they  had  been  bitterly 
disappointed  by  the  King's  withdrawal  from  his  schemes  after  his 
four  years  ineffectual  struggle,  and  by  his  seeming  return  to  the  policy 
of  Clarendon.  Their  anger  and  despair  were  revealed  in  letters  from 
English  Jesuits,  and  the  correspondence  of  Coleman.  Coleman,  the 
secretary  of  the  Duchess  of  York,  and  a  busy  intriguer,  had  gained 
sufficient  knowledge  of  the  real  plans  of  the  King  and  of  his  brother 
to  warrant  him  in  begging  for  money  from  Lewis  for  the  work  of 
saving  Catholic  interests  from  Danby's  hostility  by  intrigues  in  the 
Parliament.    A  passage  from  one  of  his  letters  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the 


Y* 


Sec.  IV. 

Danby 
1673 

TO 

1678 

Marriai^e  of 
William 
and  Mary 

1678 


July  167^ 


Tbe 

Popisl: 

Plot 


650 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


Sbc  IV. 


Dam  BY 
1673 

TO 

1678 


A%ti.  1678 


wild  dreams  which  were  stirring  among  the  hotter  CathoHcs  of  the 
time.     "  They  had  a  mighty  work  on  their  hands,"  he  wrote,  "  no  less 
than  the  conversion  of  three  kingdoms,  and  by  that  perhaps  the  utter 
subduing  of  a  pestilent  heresy  which  had  so  long  domineered  over  a 
great  part  of  the  northern  world.     Success  would  give  the  greatest  blow 
to  the  Protestant  religion  that  it  had  received  since  its  birth."    The 
suspicions  which  had  been  stirred  in  the  public  mind  mounted  into 
alarm  when  the  Peace  of  Nimeguen  suddenly  left  Charles  master — as 
it  seemed — of  the  position  ;  and  it  was  of  this  general  panic  that  one 
of  the  vile  impostors  who  are  always  thrown  to  the  surface  at  times  of 
great  public  agitation  was  ready  to  take  advantage  by  the  invention  of 
Titut  Oatet  j  a  Popish  plot.     Titus  Oates,  a  Baptist  minister  before  the  Restoration, 
a  curate  and  navy  chaplain  after  it,  but  left  penniless  by  his  infamous 
character,  had  sought  bread  in  a  conversion  to  Catholicism,  and  had 
been  received  into  Jesuit  houses  at  Valladolid  and  St.  Omer.     While  he 
remained  there,  he  learnt  the  fact  of  a  secret  meeting  of  the  Jesuits  in 
London,  which  was  probably  nothing  but  the  usual  congregation  of  the 
order.     On  his  expulsion  for  misconduct  this  single  fact  widened  in  his 
fertile  brain  into  a  plot  for  the  subversion  of  Protestantism  and  the  death 
of  the  King.     His  story  was  laid  before  Charles,  and  received  with  cool 
incredulity  ;  but  Oates  made  affidavit  of  its  truth  before  a  London 
magistrate.  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  and  at  last  managed  to  appear 
before  the  Council.     He  declared  that  he  had  been  trusted  with  letters 
which  disclosed  the  Jesuit  plans.      They  were   stirring  rebellion   in 
Ireland  ;  in  Scotland  they  disguised  themselves  as  Cameronians ;  in 
England  their  aim  was  to  assassinate  the  King,  and  to  leave  the  throne 
open  to  the  Papist  Duke  of  York.     The  extracts  from  Jesuit  letters 
however  which  he  produced,  though  they  showed  the  disappointment 
and  anger  of  the  writers,  threw  no  light  on  the  monstrous  charges  of  a 
plot  for  assassination.     Oates  would  have  been  dismissed  indeed  with 
contempt  but  for  the  seizure  of  Coleman's  correspondence.    His  letters 
gave  a  new  colour  to  the  plot.     Danby  himself,  conscious  of  the  truth 
that  there  were  designs  which  Charles  dared  not  avow,  was  shaken  in 
his  rejection  of  the  disclosures,  and  inclined  to  use  them  as  weapons 
to  check  the  King  in  his  Catholic  policy.     But  a  more  dexterous  hand 
had  already  seized  on  the  growing  panic.    Shaftesbury,  released  after  a 
long  imprisonment  and  hopeless  of  foiling  the  King's  policy  in  any 
other  way,  threw  himself  into  the  plot.    "  Let  the  Treasurer  cry  as  loud 
as  he  pleases  against  Popery,"  he  laughed,  "  I  will  cry  a  note  louder." 
But  no  cry  was  needed  to  heighten   the   popular  frenzy  from  the 
moment  when   Sir  Edmondsbury   Godfrey,    the    magistrate    before 
whom  Oates  had  laid   his   information,   was  found  in   a   field  near 
London  with  his  sword  run  through  his  heart.    His  death  was  assumed 
to  be  murder,  and  the  murder  to  be  an  attempt  of  the  Jesuits  to 
"  stifle  the  plot."    A  solemn  funeral  added  to  public  agitation ;  and 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


651 


the  two  Houses  named  Gommittees  to  investigate  the  charges  made 
by  Gates. 

In  this  investigation  Shaftesbury  took  the  lead.  Whatever  his 
personal  ambition  may  have  been,  his  public  aims  in  all  that  followed 
were  wise  and  far-sighted.  He  aimed  at  forcing  Charles  to  dissolve 
Parliament  and  appeal  to  the  nation.  He  aimed  at  driving  Danby  out 
of  office  and  at  forcing  on  Charles  a  ministry  which  should  break  his 
dependence  on  France  and  give  a  constitutional  turn  to  his  policy.  He 
saw  that  no  security  would  really  avail  to  meet  the  danger  of  a  Catholic 
sovereign,  and  he  aimed  at  excluding  James  from  the  throne.  But  in 
pursuing  these  aims  he  rested  wholly  on  the  plot.  He  fanned  the 
popular  panic  by  accepting  without  question  some  fresh  depositions  in 
which  Gates  charged  five  Catholic  peers  with  part  in  the  Jesuit  con- 
spiracy. The  peers  were  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  two  thousand  suspected 
persons  were  hurried  to  prison.  A  proclamation  ordered  every  Catholic 
to  leave  London.  The  trainbands  were  called  to  arms,  and  patrols 
paraded  through  the  streets,  to  guard  against  the  Catholic  rising  which 
Gates  declared  to  be  at  hand.  Meanwhile  Shaftesbury  turned  the  panic 
to  political  account  by  forcing  through  Parliament  a  bill  which  excluded 
Catholics  from  a  seat  in  either  House.  The  exclusion  remained  in  force 
for  a  century  and  a  half ;  but  it  had  really  been  aimed  against  the  Duke 
of  York,  and  Shaftesbury  was  defeated  by  a  proviso  which  exempted 
James  from  the  operation  of  the  bill.  The  plot,  which  had  been  sup- 
ported for  four  months  by  the  sole  evidence  of  Gates,  began  to  hang  fire ; 
but  a  promise  of  reward  brought  forward  a  villain,  nam.ed  Bedloe,  with 
tales  beside  which  those  of  Gates  seemed  tame.  The  two  infomiers  were 
now  pressed  forward  by  an  infamous  rivalry  to  stranger  and  stranger 
revelations.  Bedloe  swore  to  the  existence  of  a  plot  for  the  landing  of 
a  CathoHc  army  and  a  general  massacre  of  the  Protestants.  Gates  capped 
the  revelations  of  Bedloe  by  charging  the  Queen  herself,  at  the  bar  of 
the  Lords,  with  knowledge  of  the  plot  to  murder  her  husband.  Mon- 
strous as  such  charges  were,  they  revived  the  waning  frenzy  of  the 
people  and  of  the  two  Houses.  The  peers  under  arrest  were  ordered 
to  be  impeached.  A  new  proclamation  enjoined  the  arrest  of  every 
Catholic  in  the  realm.  A  series  of  judicial  murders  began  with  the 
trial  and  execution  of  Coleman,  which  even  now  can  only  be  remem- 
bered with  horror.  But  the  alarm  must  soon  have  worn  out  had  it  only 
been  supported  by  perjury.  What  gave  force  to  the  false  plot  was  the 
existence  of  a  true  one.  Coleman's  letters  had  won  credit  for  the 
perjuries  of  Gates,  and  a  fresh  discovery  now  won  credit  for  the  perju- 
ries of  Bedloe.  From  the  moment  when  the  pressure  of  the  Commons 
and  of  Danby  had  forced  Charles  into  a  position  of  seeming  antagonism 
to  France,  Lewis  had  resolved  to  bring  about  the  dissolution  of  the  Par- 
liament, the  fall  of  the  Minister,  and  the  disbanding  of  the  army  which 
Danby  still  looked  on  as  a  weapon  against  him.     For  this  purpose  the 


652 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


French  ambassador  had  entered  into  negotiations  with  the  leaders  of 
the  Country  party.  The  English  ambassador  at  Paris,  Ralph  Montagu, 
now  returned  home  on  a  quarrel  with  Danby,  obtained  a  seat  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  in  spite  of  the  seizure  of  his  papers,  laid  on 
the  table  of  the  House  the  despatch  which  had  been  forwarded  to  Lewis, 
demanding  payment  for  the  King's  services  to  France  dunng  the  late 
negotiations.  The  House  was  thunderstruck  ;  for  strong  as  had  been 
the  general  suspicion,  the  fact  of  the  dependence  of  England  on  a 
foreign  power  had  never  before  been  proved.  Danby's  name  was 
signed  to  the  despatch,  and  he  was  at  once  impeached  on  a  charge  of 
high  treason.  But  Shaftesbury  was  more  eager  to  secure  the  election  of 
a  new  Parliament  than  to  punish  his  rival,  and  Charles  was  resolved  to 
prevent  at  any  price  a  trial  which  could  not  fail  to  reveal  the  disgrace- 
ful secret  of  his  foreign  policy.  Charles  was  in  fact  at  Shaftesbury's 
mercy,  and  the  end  for  which  Shaftesbury  had  been  playing  was  at 
last  secured.  In  January,  1679,  the  Parliament  of  1661,  after  the 
longest  unbroken  life  in  our  Parliamentary  annals,  was  at  last 
dissolved 

Section  v.— Shaftesbnry.    1679-1682. 

[Authorities. — As  before.     We  may  add  for  this  period  Earl  Russell's  Life 
of  his  ancestor,  William,  Lord  Russell.] 

The  new  Parliament  was  elected  in  a  tumult  of  national  excitement 
The  members  were  for  the  most  part  Churchmen  and  country  gentle- 
men, but  they  shared  the  alarm  of  the  country,  and  even  before  their 
assembly  in  March  their  temper  had  told  on  the  King's  policy.  James 
was  sent  to  Brussels.  Charles  began  to  disband  the  army  and 
promised  that  Danby  should  soon  withdraw  from  office.  In  his 
speech  from  the  throne  he  asked  for  supplies  to  maintain  the  Pro- 
testant attitude  of  his  Government  in  foreign  affairs.  But  it  was 
impossible  to  avert  Danby's  fall.  The  Commons  insisted  on  carrying 
his  impeachment  to  the  bar  of  the  Lords.  It  was  necessary  to  dismiss 
him  from  his  post  of  Treasurer  and  to  construct  a  new  ministry. 
Shaftesbury  became  President  of  the  Council.  The  chiefs  of  the 
Country  party.  Lord  Russell  and  Lord  Cavendish,  took  their  seats  at 
the  board  with  Lords  Holies  and  Roberts,  the  older  representatives  of 
the  Presbyterian  party  which  had  merged  in  the  general  Opposition. 
Savile,  Lord  Halifax,  as  yet  known  only  as  a  keen  and  ingenious 
speaker,  entered  the  ministry  in  the  train  of  Shaftesbury,  with  whom 
he  was  connected  ;  Lord  Sunderland  was  admitted  to  the  Council ; 
while  Lord  Essex  and  Lord  Capel,  two  of  the  most  popular  among  the 
Country  leaders,  went  to  the  Treasury.  The  recall  of  Sir  William 
Temple,  the  negotiator  of  the  Triple  Alliance,  from  his  embassy  at  the 
Hague  to  fill  the  post  of  Secretary  of  State,  promised  a  foreign  policy 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


653 


which  would  again  place  England  high  among  the  European  powers. 
Temple  returned  with  a  plan  of  administration  which,  fruitless  as  it 
directly  proved,  is  of  great  importance  as  marking  the  silent  change 
which  was  passing  over  the  Constitution.  Like  many  men  of  his  time, 
he  was  equally  alarmed  at  the  power  both  of  the  Crown  and  of  the 
Parliament.  In  moments  of  national  excitement  the  power  of  the 
Houses  seemed  irresistible.  They  had  overthrown  Clarendon.  They  had 
overthrown  Clifford  and  the  Cabal.  They  had  just  overthrown  Danby. 
But  though  they  were  strong  enough  in  the  end  to  punish  ill  govern- 
ment, they  showed  no  power  of  securing  good  government  or  of 
permanently  influencing  the  policy  of  the  Crown.  For  nineteen  years, 
with  a  Parliament  always  sitting,  Charles  as  far  as  foreign  policy  went 
had  it  pretty  much  his  own  way.  He  had  made  war  against  the  will 
of  the  nation  and  he  had  refused  to  make  war  when  the  nation  de- 
manded it.  While  every  Englishman  hated  France,  he  had  made 
England  a  mere  dependency  of  the  French  King.  The  remedy  for 
this  state  of  things,  as  it  was  afterwards  found,  was  a  very  simple 
one.  By  a  change  which  we  shall  have  to  trace,  the  Ministry  has 
now  become  a  Committee  of  State-officers,  named  by  the  majority 
of  the  House  of  Commons  from  amongst  the  more  prominent  of  its 
representatives  in  either  House,  whose  object  in  accepting  office  is 
to  do  the  will  of  that  majority.  So  long  as  the  majority  of  the  House 
of  Commons  itself  represents  the  more  powerful  current  of  public 
opinion  it  is  clear  that  such  an  arrangement  makes  government  an 
accurate  reflection  of  the  national  will.  But  obvious  as  such  a  plan 
may  seem  to  us,  it  had  as  yet  occurred  to  no  English  statesman. 
Even  to  Temple  the  one  remedy  seemed  to  lie  in  the  restoration 
of  the  Royal  Council  to  its  older  powers.  This  body,  composed  as 
it  was  of  the  great  officers  of  the  Court,  the  royal  Treasurer  and 
Secretaries,  and  a  few  nobles  specially  summoned  to  it  by  the  sove- 
reign, formed  up  to  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign  a  sort  of  delibe- 
rative assembly  to  which  the  graver  matters  of  public  administration 
were  commonly  submitted  by  the  Crown.  A  practice,  however,  of 
previously  submitting  such  measures  to  a  smaller  body  of  the  more 
important  councillors  must  always  have  existed  ;  and  under  James  this 
secret  committee,  which  was  then  known  as  the  Cabala  or  Cabal, 
began  almost  wholly  to  supersede  the  Council  itself.  In  the  large  and 
balanced  Council  which  was  formed  after  the  Restoration  all  real 
power  rested  with  the  "  Cabala  "  of  Clarendon,  Southampton,  Ormond, 
Monk,  and  the  two  Secretaries ;  and  on  Clarendon's  fall  these  were 
succeeded  by  Clifford,  Arlington,  Buckingham,  Ashley,  and  Lauder- 
dale. By  a  mere  coincidence  the  initials  of  the  latter  names  formed 
the  word  "  Cabal,"  which  has  ever  since  retained  the  sinister  meaning 
their  unpopularity  gave  to  it.  The  effect  of  these  smaller  committees 
had  undoubtedly  been  to  remove  the  check  which  the  larger  numbers 


654 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec  V. 
Shaftbs- 

BURV 

1670 

TO 

168a 


The 

Bxcluslon 
Bill 


The  Bill  of 
Securities 


and  the  more  popular  composition  of  the  Royal  Council  laid  upon  the 
Crown.  The  unscrupulous  projects  which  made  the  Cabal  of  Clifford 
and  his  fellows  a  by-word  among  Englishmen  could  never  have  been 
laid  before  a  Council  of  great  peers  and  hereditary  officers  of  State. 
To  Temple  therefore  the  organization  of  the  Council  seemed  to 
furnish  a  check  on  mere  personal  government  which  Parliament  was 
unable  to  supply.  For  this  purpose  the  Cabala,  or  Cabinet,  as  it  was 
now  becoming  the  fashion  to  term  the  confidential  committee  of  the 
Council,  was  abolished.  The  Council  itself  was  restricted  to  thirty 
members,  and  their  joint  income  was  not  to  fall  below  ;^ 300,000,  a  sum 
little  less  than  what  was  estimated  as  the  income  of  the  whole  House 
of  Commons.  A  body  of  great  nobles  and  proprietors,  not  too 
numerous  for  secret  deliberation,  and  wealthy  enough  to  counterbalance 
either  the  Commons  or  the  Crown,  would  form.  Temple  hoped,  a 
barrier  against  the  violence  and  aggression  of  the  one  power,  and  a 
check  on  the  mere  despotism  of  the  other. 

The  new  Council  and  the  new  ministry  gave  fair  hope  of  a  wise 
and  patriotic  government.  But  the  difficulties  were  still  great.  The 
nation  was  frenzied  with  suspicion  and  panic.  The  elections  to  the 
Parliament  had  taken  place  amidst  a  whirl  of  excitement  which  left 
no  place  for  candidates  of  the  Court.  The  appointment  of  the  new 
ministry,  indeed,  was  welcomed  with  a  general  burst  of  joy.  But 
the  question  of  the  Succession  threw  all  others  into  the  shade.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  national  panic  lay  the  dread  of  a  Catholic  King, 
a  dread  which  the  after  history  of  James  fully  justified.  Shaftesbury 
was  earnest  for  the  exclusion  of  James,  but  as  yet  the  majority  of 
the  Council  shrank  from  the  step,  and  supported  a  plan  which 
Charles  brought  forward  for  preserving  the  rights  of  the  Duke  of 
York  while  restraining  his  powers  as  sovereign.  By  this  project  the 
presentation  to  Church  livings  was  to  be  taken  out  of  his  hands  on 
his  accession.  The  last  Parliament  of  the  preceding  reign  was  to 
continue  to  sit ;  and  the  appointment  of  all  Councillors,  Judges,  Lord- 
Lieutenants,  and  officers  in  the  fleet,  was  vested  in  the  two  Houses  so 
long  as  a  Catholic  sovereign  was  on  the  throne.  The  extent  of  these 
provisions  showed  the  pressure  which  Charles  felt,  but  Shaftesbury 
was  undoubtedly  right  in  setting  the  plan  aside  as  at  once  insufficient 
and  impracticable.  He  continued  to  advocate  the  Exclusion  in  the 
royal  Council ;  and  a  bill  for  depriving  James  of  his  right  to  the 
Crown,  and  for  devolving  it  on  the  next  Protestant  in  the  line  of 
succession  was  introduced  into  the  Commons  by  his  adherents,  and 
passed  the  House  by  a  large  majority.  It  was  known  that  Charles 
would  use  his  influence  with  the  Peers  for  its  rejection,  and  the  Earl 
therefore  fell  back  on  the  tactics  of  Pym.  A  bold  Remonstrance  was 
prepared  in  the  Commons.  The  City  of  London  was  ready  with  an 
address  to  the  two  Houses  in  favour  of  the  bill.     All  Charles  could  do 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


655 


was  to  gain  time  by  the  prorogation  of  the  Parliament,  and  by  its 
dissolution  in  May. 

But  delay  would  have  been  useless  had  the  Country  party  remained 
at  one.  The  temper  of  the  nation  and  of  the  House  of  Commons 
was  so  hotly  pronounced  in  favour  of  the  exclusion  of  the  Duke,  that 
union  among  the  ministers  must  in  the  end  have  secured  it  and  spared 
England  the  necessity  for  the  Revolution  of  1688.  The  wiser  leaders 
of  the  Country  party,  indeed,  were  already  leaning  to  the  very  change 
which  that  Revolution  brought  about.  If  James  were  passed  over,  his 
daughter  Mary,  the  wife  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  stood  next  in  the 
order  of  succession  :  and  the  plan  of  Temple,  Essex,  and  Halifax  after 
the  failure  of  their  bill  of  Securities,  was  to  bring  the  Prince  over  to 
England  during  the  prorogation,  to  introduce  him  into  the  Council, 
and  to  pave  his  way  to  the  throne.  Unhappily  Shaftesbury  was  con- 
templating a  very  different  course.  He  distrusted  the  Prince  of 
Orange  as  a  mere  adherent  of  the  royal  house,  and  as  opposed  to  any 
weakening  of  the  royal  power  or  invasion  of  the  royal  prerogative. 
His  motive  for  setting  aside  William's  claims  is  probably  to  be  found 
in  the  maxim  ascribed  to  him,  that  "  a  bad  title  makes  a  good  king." 
Whatever  were  his  motives,  however,  he  had  resolved  to  set  aside  the 
claims  of  James  and  his  children,  as  well  as  William's  own  claim,  and 
to  place  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  on  the  throne.  Monmouth  was  re- 
puted to  be  the  eldest  of  the  King's  bastards,  a  weak  and  worthless 
profligate  in  temper,  but  popular  through  his  personal  beauty  and  his 
reputation  for  bravery.  The  tale  was  set  about  of  a  secret  marriage 
between  the  King  and  his  mother ;  Shaftesbury  induced  Charles  to 
put  the  Duke  at  the  head  of  the  troops  sent  to  repress  a  rising  of 
the  Covenanters  in  the  west  of  Scotland,  and  on  his  return  pressed 
the  King  to  give  him  the  command  of  the  Guards,  which  would 
have  put  the  only  military  force  possessed  by  the  Crown  in  Mon- 
mouth's hands. 

Sunderland,  Halifax,  and  Essex,  however,  were  not  only  steadily 
opposed  to  Shaftesbury's  project,  but  saw  themselves  marked  out  for 
ruin  in  the  event  of  Shaftesbury's  success.  They  had  advised  the  dis- 
solution of  the  last  Parliament ;  and  the  Earl's  anger  had  vented  itself 
in  threats  that  the  advisers  of  the  dissolution  should  pay  for  it  with 
their  heads.  The  danger  came  home  to  them  when  a  sudden  illness 
of  the  King  and  the  absence  of  James  made  Monmouth's  accession  a 
possible  contingency.  The  three  ministers  at  once  induced  Charles 
to  recall  the  Duke  of  York  ;  and  though  he  withdrew  to  Scotland  on 
the  King's  recovery,  Charles  deprived  Monmouth  of  his  charge  as 
Captain-General  of  the  Forces  and  ordered  him  like  James  to  leave 
the  realm.  Left  alone  in  his  cause  by  the  opposition  of  his  colleagues, 
Shaftesbury  threw  himself  more  and  more  on  the  support  of  the  Plot. 
The  prosecution  of  its  victims  was  pushed  recklessly  on.      Three 


Sec.  v. 

Shaftes- 
bury 

1679 

TO 

1682 

Mon- 
mouth 


Shaftes- 
bury's 
Second 

Dismissal 


656 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  V. 

Shaftes- 
bury 

1679 

TO 

1682 


Oct.  1679 


Shaftes- 
bury's 
truggU 


Catholics  were  hanged  in  London.  Eight  priests  were  put  to  death 
in  the  country.  Pursuivants  and  informers  spread  terror  through  every 
Catholic  household.  He  counted  on  the  reassembling  of  the  Parlia- 
ment to  bring  all  this  terror  to  bear  upon  the  King.  But  Charles  had 
already  marked  the  breach  which  the  Earl's  policy  had  made  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Country  party.  He  saw  that  Shaftesbury  was  unsup- 
ported by  any  of  his  colleagues  save  Russell.  To  Temple,  Essex,  or 
Halifax  it  seemed  possible  to  bring  about  the  succession  of  Mary 
without  any  violent  revolution  ;  but  to  set  aside  not  only  the  right  of 
James  but  the  right  of  his  Protestant  children,  and  even  of  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  was  to  ensure  a  civil  war.  It  was  with  their  full  support 
therefore  that  Charles  deprived  Shaftesbury  of  his  post  of  Lord  Pre- 
sident of  the  Council.  The  dismissal  was  the  signal  for  a  struggle  to 
whose  danger  Charles  was  far  from  blinding  himself.  What  had  saved 
him  till  now  was  his  cynical  courage.  In  the  midst  of  the  terror  and 
panic  of  the  Plot  men  "  wondered  to  see  him  quite  cheerful  amidst 
such  an  intricacy  of  troubles,"  says  the  courtly  Reresby,  "  but  it  was 
not  in  his  nature  to  think  or  perplex  himself  much  about  anything." 
Even  in  the  heat  of  the  tumult  which  followed  on  Shaftesbur)''s  dis- 
missal, Charles  was  seen  fishing  and  sauntering  as  usual  in  Windsor 
Park.  But  closer  observers  than  Reresby  saw  beneath  this  veil  of 
indolent  unconcern  a  consciousness  of  new  danger.  **  From  this 
time,"  says  Burnet,  "his  temper  was  observed  to  change  very  visibly.*' 
He  became  in  fact  "  sullen  and  thoughtful ;  he  saw  that  he  had  to  do 
with  a  strange  sort  of  people,  that  could  neither  be  managed  nor 
frightened."  But  he  faced  the  danger  with  his  old  unscrupulous  cool- 
ness. He  reopened  secret  negotiations  with  France.  Lewis  was  as 
alarmed  as  Charles  himself  at  the  warlike  temper  of  the  nation,  and 
as  anxious  to  prevent  the  assembly  of  a  Parliament ;  but  the  terms  on 
which  he  offered  a  subsidy  were  too  humiliating  even  for  the  King's 
acceptance.  The  failure  forced  him  to  summon  a  new  Parliament ; 
and  the  panic,  which  Shaftesbury  was  busily  feeding  with  new  tales  of 
massacre  and  invasion,  returned  members  even  more  violent  than  the 
members  of  the  House  he  had  just  dismissed.  A  host  of  petitions 
called  on  the  King  to  suffer  Parliament  to  meet  at  the  opening  of 
1680.  Even  the  Council  shrank  from  the  King's  proposal  to  prorogue 
its  assembly  to  November,  1680,  but  Charles  persisted.  Alone  as  he 
stood,  he  was  firm  in  his  resolve  to  gain  time,  for  time,  as  he  saw,  was 
working  in  his  favour.  The  tide  of  public  sympathy  was  beginning 
to  turn.  The  perjury  of  Oates  proved  too  much  at  last  for  the  credulity 
of  juries  ;  and  the  acquittal  of  four  of  his  victims  was  a  sign  that  the 
panic  was  beginning  to  ebb.  A  far  stronger  proof  of  this  was  seen  in 
the  immense  efforts  which  Shaftesbury  made  to  maintain  it.  Fresh 
informers  were  brought  forward  to  swear  to  a  plot  for  the  assassination 
of  the  Earl  himself,  and  to  the  share  of  the  Duke  of  York  in  the  con- 


/x.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


657 


spiracies  of  his  fellow-religionists.  A  paper  found  in  a  meal-tub  was 
produced  as  evidence  of  the  new  danger.  Gigantic  torch-light  pro- 
cessions paraded  the  streets  of  London,  and  the  effigy  of  the  Pope  was 
burnt  amidst  the  wild  outcry  of  a  vast  multitude. 

Acts  of  yet  greater  daring  showed  the  lengths  to  which  Shaftesbury 
was  ready  to  go.  He  had  grown  up  amidst  the  tumults  of  civil  war, 
and,  greyheaded  as  he  was,  the  fire  and  vehemence  of  his  early  days 
seemed  to  wake  again  in  the  singular  recklessness  with  which  he  drove 
on  the  nation  to  a  struggle  in  arms.  Early  in  1680  he  formed  a 
committee  for  promoting  agitation  throughout  the  country;  and  the 
petitions  which  it  drew  up  for  the  assembly  of  the  Parliament  were 
sent  to  every  town  and  grand  jury,  and  sent  back  again  with  thousands 
of  signatures.  Monmouth,  in  spite  of  the  King's  orders,  returned  at 
Shaftesbury's  call  to  London  ;  and  a  daring  pamphlet  pointed  him  out 
as  the  nation's  leader  in  the  coming  struggle  "against  Popery  and 
tyranny."  So  great  was  the  alarm  of  the  Council  that  the  garrison  in 
every  fortress  was  held  in  readiness  for  instant  war.  But  the  danger 
was  really  less  than  it  seemed.  The  tide  of  opinion  had  fairly  turned. 
Acquittal  followed  acquittal.  A  reaction  of  horror  and  remorse  at  the 
cruelty  which  had  hurried  victim  after  victim  to  the  gallows  succeeded 
to  the  pitiless  frenzy  which  Shaftesbury  had  fanned  into  a  flame. 
Anxious  as  the  nation  was  for  a  Protestant  sovereign,  its  sense  of  justice 
revolted  against  the  wrong  threatened  to  James's  Protestant  children  ; 
and  every  gentleman  in  the  realm  felt  insulted  at  the  project  of  setting 
Mary  aside  to  put  the  crown  of  England  on  the  head  of  a  bastard. 
The  memory  too  of  the  Civil  War  was  still  fresh  and  keen,  and  the 
rumour  of  an  outbreak  of  revolt  rallied  men  more  and  more  round  the 
King.  The  host  of  petitions  which  Shaftesbury  procured  from  the 
counties  was  answered  by  a  counter  host  of  addresses  from  thousands 
who  declared  their  "  abhorrence  "  of  the  plans  against  the  Crown.  The 
country  was  divided  into  two  great  factions  of  "  petitioners "  and 
"abhorrers,"  the  germs  of  the  two  great  parties  of  "Whigs"  and 
"Tories"  which  have  played  so  prominent  a  part  in  our  political  his- 
tory from  the  time  of  the  Exclusion  Bill.  Charles  at  once  took 
advantage  of  this  turn  of  affairs.  He  recalled  the  Duke  of  York  to  the 
Court.  He  received  the  resignations  of  Russell  and  Cavendish,  as  well 
as  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who  had  at  last  gone  over  to  Shaftesbury's 
projects  "  with  all  his  heart."  Shaftesbury  met  defiance  with  defiance. 
Followed  by  a  crowd  of  his  adherents  he  attended  before  the  Grand 
Jury  of  Middlesex,  to  indict  the  Duke  of  York  as  a  Catholic  recusant, 
and  the  King's  mistress,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  as  a  national 
nuisance,  while  Monmouth  made  a  progress  through  the  country,  and 
gained  favour  everywhere  by  his  winning  demeanour.  Above  all, 
Shaftesbury  relied  on  the  temper  of  the  Commons,  elected  as  they  had 
been  in  the  very  heat  of  the  panic  and  irritated  by  the  long  delay  in 


658 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


calling  them  together.  The  first  act  of  the  House  on  meeting  in 
October  was  to  vote  that  their  care  should  be  "  to  suppress  Popery  and 
prevent  a  Popish  successor."  Rumours  of  a  Catholic  plot  in  Ireland 
were  hardly  needed  to  push  the  Exclusion  Bill  through  the  Commons 
without  a  division.  So  resolute  was  the  temper  of  the  Lower  House 
that  even  Temple  and  Essex  now  gave  their  adhesion  to  it  as  a  neces- 
sity, and  Sunderland  himself  wavered  towards  accepting  it.  Halifax, 
whose  ability  and  eloquence  had  now  brought  him  fairly  to  the  front, 
opposed  it  resolutely  and  successfully  in  the  Lords  ;  but  Halifax  was 
only  the  mouthpiece  of  William.  "  My  Lord  Halifax  is  entirely  in  the 
interest  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,"  the  French  ambassador,  Barillon, 
wrote  to  his  master,  "  and  what  he  seems  to  be  doing  for  the  Duke  of 
York  is  really  in  order  to  make  an  opening  for  a  compromise  by  which 
the  Prince  of  Orange  may  benefit."  The  Exclusion  Bill  once  rejected, 
Halifax  followed  up  the  blow  by  bringing  forward  a  plan  of  Protestant 
securities,  which  would  have  taken  from  James  on  his  accession  the 
right  of  veto  on  any  bill  passed  by  the  two  Houses,  the  right  of 
negotiating  with  foreign  states,  or  of  appointing  either  civil  or  military 
officers  save  with  the  consent  of  Parliament.  This  plan  also  was  no 
doubt  prompted  by  the  Prince  of  Orange  ;  and  the  States  of  Holland 
supported  it  by  pressing  Charles  to  come  to  an  accommodation  with 
his  subjects  which  would  enable  them  to  check  the  perpetual  aggres- 
sions which  France  was  making  on  her  neighbours. 

But  if  the  Lords  would  have  no  Exclusion  Bill  the  Commons  with 
as  good  reason  would  have  no  Securities  Bill.  They  felt — as  one  of  the 
members  for  London  fairly  put  it — that  such  securities  would  break 
down  at  the  very  moment  they  were  needed.  A  Catholic  king,  should 
he  ever  come  to  the  throne,  would  have  other  forces  besides  those  in 
Elngland  to  back  him.  "The  Duke  rules  over  Scotland;  the  Irish 
and  the  English  Papists  will  follow  him  ;  he  will  be  obeyed  by  the 
officials  of  high  and  low  rank  whom  the  King  has  appointed  ;  he  will 
be  just  such  a  king  as  he  thinks  good."  Shaftesbury  however  was  far 
from  resting  in  a  merely  negative  position.  He  made  a  despairing 
effort  to  do  the  work  of  exclusion  by  a  Bill  of  Divorce,  which  would 
have  enabled  Charles  to  put  away  his  Queen  on  the  ground  of  barren- 
ness, and  by  a  fresh  marriage  to  give  a  Protestant  heir  to  the  throne. 
The  Earl  was  perhaps  already  sensible  of  a  change  in  public  feeling, 
and  this  he  resolved  to  check  and  turn  by  a  great  public  impeachment 
which  would  revive  and  establish  the  general  belief  in  the  Plot.  Lord 
Stafford,  who  from  his  age  and  rank  was  looked  on  as  the  leader  of  the 
Catholic  party,  had  lain  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  since  the  first  outburst 
of  popular  frenzy.  He  was  now  solemnly  impeached  ;  and  his  trial  in 
December  1680  mustered  the  whole  force  of  informers  to  prove  the 
truth  of  a  Catholic  conspiracy  against  the  King  and  the  realm.  The 
evidence  was  worthless ;  but  the  trial  revived,  as  Shaftesbury  had 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


659 


hoped,  much  of  the  old  panic,  and  the  condemnation  of  the  prisoner 
by  a  majority  of  his  peers  was  followed  by  his  death  on  the  scaffold. 
The  blow  produced  its  effect  on  all  but  Charles.  Sunderland  again 
pressed  the  King  to  give  way.  But  deserted  as  he  was  by  his  ministers, 
and  even  by  his  mistress,  for  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  had  been 
cowed  into  supporting  the  exclusion  by  the  threats  of  Shaftesbury, 
Charles  was  determined  to  resist.  On  the  coupling  of  a  grant  of  sup- 
pHes  with  demands  for  a  voice  in  the  appointment  of  officers  of  the 
royal  garrisons  he  prorogued  the  Parliament.  The  truth  was  that  he 
was  again  planning  an  alliance  with  France.  With  characteristic 
subtlety,  however,  he  dissolved  the  existing  Parliament,  and  called  a 
new  one  to  meet  in  March.  The  act  was  a  mere  blind.  The  King's  aim 
was  to  frighten  the  country  into  reaction  by  the  dread  of  civil  strife ; 
and  his  summons  of  the  Parliament  to  Oxford  was  an  appeal  to  the 
country  against  the  disloyalty  of  the  capital,  and  an  adroit  means  of 
reviving  the  memories  of  the  Civil  War.  With  the  same  end  he 
ordered  his  guards  to  accompany  him,  on  the  pretext  of  anticipated 
disorder ;  and  Shaftesbury,  himself  terrified  at  the  projects  of  the 
Court,  aided  the  King's  designs  by  appearing  with  his  followers  in 
arms  on  the  plea  of  self-protection.  Monmouth  renewed  his  progresses 
through  the  country.  Riots  broke  out  in  London.  Revolt  seemed  at 
hand,  and  Charles  hastened  to  conclude  his  secret  negotiations  with 
France.  He  verbally  pledged  himself  to  a  policy  of  peace,  in  other 
words  to  withdrawal  from  any  share  in  the  Grand  Alliance  which 
William  was  building  up,  while  Lewis  promised  a  small  subsidy  which 
with  the  natural  growth  of  the  royal  revenue  sufficed  to  render  Charles, 
if  he  remained  at  peace,  independent  of  Parliamentary  aids.  The 
violence  of  the  new  Parliament  played  yet  more  effectually  into  the 
King's  hands.  The  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  were  the 
same  as  those  who  had  been  returned  to  the  Parliaments  he  had 
just  dissolved,  and  their  temper  was  naturally  embittered  by  the  two 
dissolutions.  Their  rejection  of  a  new  Limitation  Bill  brought  forward 
by  Halifax,  which  while  granting  James  the  title  of  King  would  have 
vested  the  actual  functions  of  government  in  the  Prince  and  Princess 
of  Orange,  alienated  the  more  moderate  and  sensible  of  the  Country 
party.  The  attempt  of  the  Lower  House  to  revive  the  panic  by  im- 
peaching an  informer  named  Fitzharris  before  the  House  of  Lords,  in 
defiance  of  the  constitutional  rule  which  entitled  him  as  a  commoner 
to  a  trial  by  his  peers  in  the  course  of  common  law,  did  still  more  to 
throw  public  opinion  on  the  side  of  the  Crown.  Shaftesbury's  course, 
in  fact,  went  wholly  on  a  belief  that  the  penury  of  the  Treasury  left 
Charles  at  his  mercy,  and  that  a  refusal  of  supplies  must  wring  from 
the  King  his  assent  to  the  Exclusion.  But  the  gold  of  France  had 
freed  the  King  from  his  thraldom.  He  had  used  the  Parliament 
simply  to  exhibit  himself  as  a  sovereign  whose  patience  and  con- 


660 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ciliatory  temper  was  rewarded  with  insult  and  violence  ;  and  now 
that  his  end  was  accomplished,  he  no  sooner  saw  the  Exclusion  Bill 
re-introduced,  than  he  suddenly  dissolved  the  Houses  after  a  month's 
sitting,  and  appealed  in  a  royal  declaration  to  the  justice  of  the 
nation  at  large. 

The  appeal  was  met  by  an  almost  universal  burst  of  loyalty.  The 
Church  rallied  to  the  King  ;  his  declaration  was  read  from  every 
pulpit ;  and  the  Universities  solemnly  decided  that  "  no  religion,  no 
law,  no  fault,  no  forfeiture,"  could  avail  to  bar  the  sacred  right  of 
hereditary  succession.  The  arrest  of  Shaftesbury  on  a  charge  of 
suborning  false  witnesses  to  the  Plot  marked  the  new  strength  of  the 
Crown.  London  indeed  was  still  true  to  him  ;  the  Middlesex  Grand 
Juiy  ignored  the  bill  of  his  indictment  ;  and  his  discharge  from  the 
Tower  was  welcomed  in  every  street  with  bonfires  and  ringing  of  bells. 
But  a  fresh  impulse  was  given  to  the  loyal  enthusiasm  of  the  country 
at  large  by  the  publication  of  a  plan  said  to  have  been  found  among 
his  papers,  the  plan  of  a  secret  association  for  the  furtherance  of  the 
Exclusion,  whose  members  bound  themselves  to  obey  the  orders  of 
Parliament  even  after  its  prorogation  or  dissolution  by  the  Crown.  So 
general  was  the  reaction  that  Halifax  advised  the  calling  of  a  new 
Parliament  in  the  belief  that  it  would  be  a  loyal  one.  William  of 
Orange  too  visited  England  to  take  advantage  of  the  turn  of  affairs 
to  pin  Charles  to  the  policy  of  the  Alliance  ;  but  the  King  met  both 
counsels  with  evasion.  He  pushed  boldly  on  in  his  new  course.  He 
confirmed  the  loyalty  of  the  Church  by  a  renewed  persecution  of  the 
Nonconformists,  which  drove  Penn  from  England  and  thus  broughv 
about  the  settlement  of  Pennsylvania  as  a  refuge  for  his  fellow  Quakers. 
He  was  soon  strong  enough  to  call  back  James  to  Court.  Monmouth, 
who  had  resumed  his  progresses  through  the  country  as  a  means  of 
checking  the  tide  of  reaction,  was  arrested.  The  friendship  of  a  Tory 
mayor  secured  the  nomination  of  Tory  sheriffs  in  London,  and  the 
juries  they  packed  left  the  life  of  every  Exclusionist  at  the  mercy  ol 
the  Crown.  Shaftesbury,  alive  to  the  new  danger,  plunged  madly  into 
conspiracies  with  a  handful  of  adventurers  as  desperate  as  himself, 
hid  himself  in  the  City,  where  he  boasted  that  ten  thousand  "  brisk 
boys"  were  ready  to  appear  at  his  call,  and  urged  his  friends  to 
rise  in  arms.  Hut  their  delays  drove  him  to  flight  ;  and  two  months 
after  his  arrival  in  Holland,  the  soul  of  the  great  leader,  great  from 
his  immense  energy  and  the  wonderful  versatility  of  his  genius,  but 
whose  genius  and  energy  had  ended  in  wrecking  for  the  time  the 
fortunes  of  English  freedom,  and  in  associating  the  noblest  of  causes 
with  the  vilest  of  crimes,  found  its  first  quiet  in  death. 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


66i 


Section  VI.— The  Second  Stuart  Tyranny,  1682—1688. 

[Authorities. — To  those  given  before  we  may  add  Welwood's  "  Memoirs," 
Luttrell's  "Diary,"  and  above  all  Lord  Macaulay's  "History  of  England."] 

Tlie  flight  of  Shaftesbury  proclaimed  the  triumph  of  the  King.  His 
marvellous  sagacity  had  told  him  when  the  struggle  was  over  and 
further  resistance  useless.  But  the  country  leaders,  who  had  delayed 
to  answer  the  Earl's  call,  still  believed  opposition  possible  ;  and  Mon- 
mouth, with  Lord  Essex,  Lord  Howard  of  Ettrick,  Lord  Russell, 
Hampden,  and  Algernon  Sidney  held  meetings  with  the  view  of 
founding  an  association  whose  agitation  should  force  on  the  King 
the  assembly  of  a  Parliament.  The  more  desperate  spirits  who  had 
clustered  round  him  as  he  lay  hidden  in  the  City  took  refuge  in  plots 
of  assassination,  and  in  a  plan  for  murdering  Charles  and  his  brother 
as  they  passed  the  Rye-house  on  their  road  from  London  to  New- 
market. Both  projects  were  betrayed,  and  though  they  were  wholly 
distinct  from  one  another  the  cruel  ingenuity  of  the  Crown  lawyers 
blended  them  into  one.  Lord  Essex  saved  himself  from  a  traitor's 
death  by  suicide  in  the  Tower.  Lord  Russell,  convicted  on  a  charge 
of  sharing  in  the  Rye-house  plot,  was  beheaded  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  The  same  fate  awaited  Algernon  Sidney.  Monmouth  fled  in 
terror  over  sea,  and  his  flight  was  followed  by  a  series  of  prosecu- 
tions for  sedition  directed  against  his  followers.  In  1683  the  Con- 
stitutional opposition  which  had  held  Charles  so  long  in  check  lay 
crushed  at  his  feet.  A  weaker  man  might  easily  have  been  led  into  a 
wild  tyranny  by  the  mad  outburst  of  loyalty  which  greeted  his  triumph. 
On  the  very  day  when  the  crowd  around  Russell's  scaffold  were  dip- 
ping their  handkerchiefs  in  his  blood,  as  in  the  blood  of  a  martyr,  tlie 
University  of  Oxford  solemnly  declared  that  the  doctrine  of  passive 
obedience,  even  to  the  worst  of  rulers,  was  a  part  of  religion.  But 
Charles  saw  that  immense  obstacles  still  lay  in  the  road  of  a  mere 
tyranny.  The  great  Tory  party  which  had  rallied  to  his  succour 
against  the  Exclusionists  were  still  steady  for  parliamentary  and  legal 
government.  The  Church  was  as  powerful  as  ever,  and  the  mention 
of  a  renewal  of  the  Indulgence  to  Nonconformists  had  to  be  withdrawn 
before  the  opposition  of  the  bishops.  He  was  careful  therefore  during 
the  few  years  which  remained  to  him  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  any 
open  violation  of  public  law.  He  suspended  no  statute.  He  imposed 
no  tax  by  royal  authority.  Nothing  indeed  shows  more  completely 
how  great  a  work  the  Long  Parliament  had  done  than  a  survey  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second.  "  The  King,"  Hallam  says  very  truly, 
"was  restored  to  nothing  but  what  the  law  had  preserved  to  him." 
No  attempt  was  made  to  restore  the  abuses  which  the  patriots  of  1641 
had  swept  away.     Parliament  was  continually  summoned.    In  spite  of 


662 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


its  frequent  refusal  of  supplies,  no  attempt  was  ever  made  to  raise 
money  by  unconstitutional  means.  The  few  illegal  proclamations 
issued  under  Clarendon  ceased  with  his  fall.  No  effort  was  made  to 
revive  the  Star  Chamber  and  the  Court  of  High  Commission  ;  and  if 
judges  were  servile  and  juries  sometimes  packed,  there  was  no  open 
interference  with  the  course  of  justice.  In  two  remarkable  points 
freedom  had  made  an  advance  even  on  164 1.  From  the  moment  when 
printing  began  to  tell  on  public  opinion,  it  had  been  gagged  by  a  system 
of  licences.  The  regulations  framed  under  Henry  the  Eighth  sub- 
jected the  press  to  the  control  of  the  Star  Chamber,  and  the  Martin 
Marprelate  libels  brought  about  a  yet  more  stringent  control  under 
Elizabeth.  Even  the  Long  Parliament  laid  a  heavy  hand  on  the  press, 
and  the  great  remonstrance  of  Milton  in  his  "  Areopagitica  "  fell  dead 
on  the  ears  of  his  Puritan  associates.  But  the  statute  for  the  regula- 
tion of  printing  which  was  passed  immediately  after  the  Restoration 
expired  finally  in  1679,  and  the  temper  of  the  Parliament  at  once  put 
an  end  to  any  attempt  at  re-establishing  the  censorship.  To  the  new 
freedom  of  the  press  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  added  a  new  security  for 
the  personal  freedom  of  every  Englishman.  Against  arbitrary  im- 
prisonment provision  had  been  made  in  the  earliest  ages  by  a  famous 
clause  in  the  Great  Charter.  No  free  man  could  be  held  in  prison 
save  on  charge  or  conviction  of  crime  or  for  debt,  and  every  prisoner 
on  a  criminal  charge  could  demand  as  a  right  from  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench  the  issue  of  a  writ  of  "  habeas  corpus,"  which  bound  his  gaoler 
to  produce  both  the  prisoner  and  the  warrant  on  which  he  was  im- 
prisoned, that  the  court  might  judge  whether  he  was  imprisoned 
according  to  law.  In  cases  however  of  imprisonment  on  a  warrant  of 
the  royal  Council  it  had  been  sometimes  held  by  judges  that  the  writ 
could  not  be  issued,  and  under  Clarendon's  administration  instances 
had  in  this  way  occurred  of  imprisonment  without  legal  remedy.  But 
his  fall  was  quickly  followed  by  the  introduction  of  a  bill  to  secure  this 
right  of  the  subject,  and  after  a  long  struggle  the  Act  which  is  known 
as  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  passed  finally  in  1679.  By  this  great  statute 
the  old  practice  of  the  law  was  freed  from  all  difficulties  and  exceptions. 
Every  prisoner  committed  for  any  crime  save  treason  or  felony  was 
declared  entitled  to  his  writ  even  in  the  vacations  of  the  courts,  and 
heavy  penalties  were  enforced  on  judges  or  gaolers  who  refused  him 
this  right.  Every  person  committed  for  felony  or  treason  was  entitled 
to  be  released  on  bail,  unless  indicted  at  the  next  session  of  gaol 
delivery  after  his  commitment,  and  to  be  discharged  if  not  indicted 
at  the  sessions  which  followed.  It  was  forbidden  under  the  heaviest 
penalties  to  send  a  prisoner  into  any  places  or  fortresses  beyond  the 
seas. 

Galling  to  the  Crown  as  the  freedom  of  the  press  and  the  Habeas 
Corpus  Act  were  soon  found  to  be,  Charles  made  no  attempt  to  curtail 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


663 


the  one  or  to  infringe  the  other.  Biit  while  cautious  to  avoid  rousing 
popular  resistance,  he  moved  coolly  and  resolutely  forward  on  the  path 
of  despotism.  It  was  in  vain  that  Halifax  pressed  for  energetic  resist- 
ance to  the  aggressions  of  France,  for  the  recall  of  Monmouth,  or  for 
the  calling  of  a  fresh  Parliament.  Like  every  other  English  statesman 
he  found  he  had  been  duped,  and  that  now  his  work  was  done  he  was 
suffered  to  remain  in  office  but  left  without  any  influence  in  the  govern- 
ment. Hyde,  who  was  created  Earl  of  Rochester,  still  remained  at  the 
head  of  the  Treasury  ;  but  Charles  soon  gave  more  of  his  confidence 
to  the  supple  and  acute  Sunderland.  Parliament,  in  defiance  of  the 
Triennial  Act,  which  after  having  been  repealed  had  been  re-enacted 
but  without  the  safeguards  of  the  original  act,  remained  unassembled 
during  the  remainder  of  the  King's  reign.  His  secret  alliance  with 
France  furnished  Charles  with  the  funds  he  immediately  required, 
and  the  rapid  growth  of  the  customs  through  the  increase  of  English 
commerce  promised  to  give  him  a  revenue  which,  if  peace  were 
preserved,  would  save  him  from  the  need  of  a  fresh  appeal  to  the 
Commons.  All  opposition  was  at  an  end.  The  strength  of  the 
Country  party  had  been  broken  by  its  own  dissensions  over  the 
Exclusion  Bill,  and  by  the  flight  or  death  of  its  more  prominent 
leaders.  Whatever  strength  it  retained  lay  chiefly  in  the  towns,  and 
these  were  now  attacked  by  writs  of  "  quo  warranto,"  which  called 
on  them  to  show  cause  why  their  charters  should  not  be  declared 
forfeited  on  the  ground  of  abuse  of  their  privileges.  A  few  verdicts 
on  the  side  of  the  Crown  brought  about  a  general  surrender  of  muni- 
cipal liberties  ;  and  the  grant  of  fresh  charters,  in  which  all  but  ultra- 
loyahsts  were  carefully  excluded  from  their  corporations,  placed  the 
representation  of  the  boroughs  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown.  Against 
active  discontent  Charles  had  long  been  quietly  providing  by  the 
gradual  increase  of  his  Guards.  The  withdrawal  of  its  garrison  from 
Tangier  enabled  him  to  raise  their  force  to  nine  thousand  well- 
equipped  soldiers,  and  to  supplement  this  force,  the  nucleus  of  our 
present  standing  army,  by  a  reserve  of  six  regiments,  which  were  main- 
tained till  they  should  be  needed  at  home  in  the  service  of  the  United 
Provinces.  But  great  as  the  danger  really  was,  it  lay  not  so  much  in 
isolated  acts  of  tyranny  as  in  the  character  and  purpose  of  Charles 
himself.  His  death  at  the  very  moment  of  his  triumph  saved  English 
freedom.  He  had  regained  his  old  popularity,  and  at  the  news  of  his 
sickness  crowds  thronged  the  churches,  praying  that  God  would  raise 
him  up  again  to  be  a  father  to  his  people.  But  the  one  anxiety  of 
the  King  was  to  die  reconciled  to  the  Cathohc  Church.  His  chamber 
was  cleared  and  a  priest  named  Huddleston,  who  had  saved  his 
life  after  the  battle  of  Worcester,  received  his  confession  and  ad- 
ministered the  last  sacraments.  Not  a  word  of  this  ceremony  was 
whispered  when  the   nobles   and    bishops    were    recalled   into  the 


664 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


royal  presence.  All  the  children  of  his  mistresses  save  Monmouth 
were  gathered  round  the  bed.  Charles  "  blessed  all  his  children 
one  by  one,  pulling  them  on  to  his  bed ;  and  then  the  bishops 
moved  him,  as  he  was  the  Lord's  anointed  and  the  father  of  his 
country,  to  bless  them  also  and  all  that  were  there  present,  and  in 
them  the  general  body  of  his  subjects.  Whereupon,  the  room  being 
full,  all  fell  down  upon  their  knees,  and  he  raised  himself  in  his  bed 
and  very  solemnly  blessed  them  all."  The  strange  comedy  was  at 
last  over.  Charles  died  as  he  had  lived :  brave,  witty,  cynical,  even 
in  the  presence  of  death.  Tortured  as  he  was  with  pain,  he  begged 
the  bystanders  to  forgive  him  for  being  so  unconscionable  a  time  in 
dying.  One  mistress,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  hung  weeping  over 
his  bed.  His  last  thought  was  of  another  mistress,  Nell  Gwynn.  "  Do 
not,"  he  whispered  to  his  successor  ere  he  sank  into  a  fatal  stupor, "  do 
not  let  poor  Nelly  starve  !  " 

The  first  words  of  James  on  his  accession  in  February  i'685,  his  pro- 
mise "  to  preserve  the  Government  both  in  Church  and  State  as  it  is 
now  by  law  established,"  were  welcomed  by  the  whole  country  with 
enthusiasm.  All  the  suspicions  of  a  Catholic  sovereign  seemed  to 
have  disappeared.  "  We  have  the  word  of  a  King  !  "  ran  the  general 
cry,  "and  of  a  King  who  was  never  worse  than  his  word."  The  con- 
viction of  his  brother's  faithlessness  stood  James  in  good  stead.  He 
was  looked  upon  as  narrow,  impetuous,  stubborn,  and  despotic  in 
heart,  but  even  his  enemies  did  not  accuse  him  of  being  false.  Above 
all  he  was  believed  to  be  keenly  alive  to  the  honour  of  his  country,  and 
resolute  to  free  it  from  foreign  dependence.  It  was  necessary  to  sum- 
mon a  Parliament,  for  the  royal  revenue  ceased  with  the  death  of 
Charles  ;  but  the  elections,  swayed  at  once  by  the  tide  of  loyalty  and 
by  the  command  of  the  boroughs  which  the  surrender  of  their  charters 
had  given  to  the  Crown,  sent  up  a  House  of  Comnjons  in  which  James 
found  few  members  who  were  not  to  his  mind.  The  question  of  reli- 
gious security  was  waived  at  a  hint  of  the  royal  displeasure.  A  revenue 
of  nearly  two  millions  was  granted  to  the  King  for  life.  All  that  was 
wanted  to  rouse  the  loyalty  of  the  country  into  fanaticism  was  supplied 
by  a  rebellion  in  the  North,  and  by  another  under  Monmouth  in  the 
West.  The  hopes  of  Scotch  freedom  had  clung  ever  since  the  Restora- 
tion to  the  house  of  Argyll.  The  great  Marquis,  indeed,  had  been 
brought  to  the  block  at  the  King's  return.  His  son,  the  Earl  of  Argyll, 
had  been  unable  to  save  himself  even  by  a  life  of  singular  caution  and 
obedience  from  the  ill-will  of  the  vile  politicians  who  governed  Scot- 
land. He  was  at  last  convicted  of  treason  in  1682  on  grounds  at  which 
every  English  statesman  stood  aghast.  "  We  should  not  hang  a  dog 
here,"  Halifax  protested,  "  on  the  grounds  on  which  my  lord  Argyll 
has  been  sentenced  to  death."  The  Earl  escaped  however  to  Holland, 
and  lived  peacefully  there  during  the  last  years  of  the  reign  of  Charles. 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


665 


Monmouth  had  found  the  same  refuge  at  the  Hague,  where  a  belief 
in  the  King's  purpose  to  recall  him  secured  him  a  kindly  reception 
from  William  of  Orange.  But  the  accession  of  James  was  a  death- 
blow to  the  hopes  of  the  Duke,  while  it  stirred  the  fanaticism  of  Argyll 
to  a  resolve  of  wresting  Scotland  from  the  rule  of  a  Catholic  king.  The 
two  leaders  determined  to  appear  in  arms  in  England  and  the  North, 
and  the  two  expeditions  sailed  within  a  few  days  of  each  other. 
Argyll's  attempt  was  soon  over.  His  clan  of  the  Campbells  rose  on 
his  landing  in  Cantyre,  but  the  country  had  been  occupied  for  the 
King,  and  quarrels  among  the  exiles  who  accompanied  him  robbed 
his  effort  of  every  chance  of  success.  His  force  scattered  without  a 
fight ;  and  Argyll,  arrested  in  an  attempt  to  escape,  was  hurried  to  a 
traitor's  death.  Monmouth  for  a  time  found  brighter  fortune.  His 
popularity  in  the  West  was  great,  and  though  the  gentry  held  aloof 
when  he  landed  at  Lyme,  and  demanded  effective  parliamentary 
government  and  freedom  of  worship  for  Protestant  Nonconformists, 
the  farmers  and  traders  of  Devonshire  and  Dorset  flocked  to  his 
standard.  The  clothier-towns  of  Somerset  were  true  to  the  Whig  cause, 
and  on  the  entrance  of  the  Duke  into  Taunton  the  popular  enthusiasm 
showed  itself  in  flowers  which  wreathed  every  door,  as  well  as  in  a 
train  of  young  girls  who  presented  Monmouth  with  a  Bible  and  a  flag. 
His  forces  now  amounted  to  six  thousand  men,  but  whatever  chance 
of  success  he  might  have  had  was  lost  by  his  assumption  of  the  title  of 
king.  The  Houses  supported  James,  and  passed  a  bill  of  attainder 
against  the  Duke.  The  gentry,  still  true  to  the  cause  of  Mary  and  of 
William,  held  stubbornly  aloof ;  while  the  Guards  hurried  to  the  scene 
of  the  revolt,  and  the  militia  gathered  to  the  royal  standard.  Foiled 
in  an  attempt  on  Bristol  and  Bath,  Monmouth  fell  back  on  Bridge- 
water,  and  flung  himself  in  the  night  of  the  sixth  of  July,  1685,  on  the 
King's  forces,  which  lay  encamped  on  Sedgemoor.  The  surprise 
failed ;  and  the  brave  peasants  and  miners  who  followed  the  Duke, 
checked  in  their  advance  by  a  deep  drain  which  crossed  the  moor, 
were  broken  after  a  short  resistance  by  the  royal  horse.  Their  leader 
fled  from  the  field,  and  after  a  vain  effort  to  escape  from  the  realm,  was 
captured  and  sent  pitilessly  to  the  block. 

Never  had  England  shown  a  firmer  loyalty ;  but  its  loyalty  was 
changed  into  horror  by  the  terrible  measures  of  repression  which  fol- 
iowed  on  the  victory  of  Sedgemoor.  Even  North,  the  Lord  Keeper,  a 
servile  tool  of  the  Crown,  protested  against  the  license  and  bloodshed 
in  which  the  troops  were  suffered  to  indulge  after  the  battle.  His  pro- 
test however  was  disregarded,  and  he  withdrew  broken-hearted  from 
the  Court  to  die.  James  was,  in  fact,  resolved  on  a  far  more  terrible 
vengeance ;  and  the  Chief- Justice  Jeffreys,  a  man  of  great  natural 
powers  but  of  violent  temper,  was  sent  to  earn  the  Seals  by  a  series  of 
judicial  murders  which  have  left  his  name  a  byword  for  cruelty.    Three 


Sec.  VI. 

Tm» 

Second 
Stuart 
Tyranny 

1682 

TO 

1688 


Monmouth'  i 
rising 


The 
Bloody 
Circuit 


666 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


hundred  and  fifty  rebels  were  hanged  in  the  "Bloody  Circuit/*  as 
Jeffreys  made  his  way  through  Dorset  and  Somerset.  More  than 
eight  hundred  were  sold  into  slavery  beyond  sea.  A  yet  larger 
number  were  whipped  and  imprisoned.  The  Queen,  the  maids  of 
honour,  the  courtiers,  even  the  Judge  himself,  made  shameless  profit 
from  the  sale  of  pardons.  What  roused  pity  above  all  were  the 
cruelties  wreaked  upon  women.  Some  were  scourged  from  market- 
town  to  market-town.  Mrs.  Lisle,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  Regicides, 
was  sent  to  the  block  at  Winchester  for  harbouring  a  rebel.  Elizabeth 
Gaunt,  for  the  same  act  of  womanly  charity,  was  burned  at  Tyburn. 
Pity  turned  into  horror  when  it  was  found  that  cruelty  such  as  this  was 
avowed  and  sanctioned  by  the  King.  Even  the  cold  heart  of  General 
Churchill,  to  whose  energy  the  victory  at  Sedgemoor  had  mainly  been 
owing,  revolted  at  the  ruthlessness  with  which  James  turned  away 
from  all  appeals  for  mercy.  "This  marble,"  he  cried  as  he  struck  the 
chimney-piece  on  which  he  leant,  "is  not  harder  than  the  King's 
heart."  But  it  was  soon  plain  that  the  terror  which  the  butchery  was 
meant  to  strike  into  the  people  was  part  of  a  larger  purpose.  The 
revolt  was  made  a  pretext  for  a  vast  increase  of  the  standing  army. 
Charles,  as  we  have  seen,  had  silently  and  cautiously  raised  it  to 
nearly  ten  thousand  men  ;  James  raised  it  at  one  swoop  to  twenty 
thousand.  The  employment  of  this  force  was  to  be  at  home,  not 
abroad,  for  the  hope  of  an  English  policy  in  foreign  affairs  had  already 
faded  away.  In  the  designs  which  James  had  at  heart  he  could  look 
for  no  consent  from  Parliament ;  and  however  his  pride  revolted  against 
a  dependence  on  France,  it  was  only  by  French  gold  and  French 
soldiers  that  he  could  hope  to  hold  the  Parliament  permanently  at 
bay.  A  week  therefore  after  his  accession  he  assured  Lewis  that 
his  gratitude  and  devotion  to  him  equalled  that  of  Charles  himself. 
"  Tell  your  master,"  he  said  to  the  French  ambassador,  "  that  without 
his  protection  I  can  do  nothing.  He  has  a  right  to  be  consulted, 
and  it  is  my  wish  to  consult  him,  about  everything."  The  pledge  of 
subserviency  was  rewarded  with  the  promise  of  a  subsidy,  and  the 
promise  was  received  with  the  strongest  expressions  of  delight  and 
servility. 

Never  had  the  secret  league  with  France  seemed  so  full  of  danger 
to  English  religion.  Europe  had  long  been  trembling  at  the  ambition 
of  Lewis;  it  was  trembhng  now  at  his  bigotry.  He  had  proclaimed 
warfare  against  civil  liberty  in  his  attack  upon  Holland  ;  he  declared 
war  at  this  moment  upon  religious  freedom  by  revoking  the  Edict  of 
Nantes,  the  measure  by  which  Henry  the  Fourth  after  his  abandon- 
ment of  Protestantism  secured  toleration  and  the  free  exercise  of 
their  worship  for  his  Protestant  subjects.  It  had  been  respected 
by  Richelieu  even  in  his  victory  over  the  Huguenots,  and  only 
lightly  tampered  with  by  Mazarin.     But  from  the  beginning  of  hi? 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


667 


reign  Lewis  had  resolved  to  set  aside  its  provisions,  and  his  revoca- 
tion of  it  in  1685  was  only  the  natural  close  of  a  progressive  system 
of  persecution.  The  Revocation  was  followed  by  outrages  more  cruel 
than  even  the  bloodshed  of  Alva.  Dragoons  were  quartered  on 
Protestant  families,  women  were  flung  from  their  sick-beds  into  the 
streets,  children  were  torn  from  their  mothers'  arms  to  be  brought  up 
in  Catholicism,  ministers  were  sent  to  the  galleys.  In  spite  of  the 
royal  edicts,  which  forbade  even  flight  to  the  victims  of  these  horrible 
atrocities,  a  hundred  thousand  Protestants  fled  over  the  borders,  and 
Holland,  Switzerland,  the  Palatinate,  were  filled  with  French  exiles. 
Thousands  found  refuge  in  England,  and  their  industry  founded  in  the 
fields  east  of  London  the  silk  trade  of  Spitalfields.  But  while  English- 
men were  looking  with  horror  on  these  events  in  France,  James  drew 
from  them  new  hopes.  In  defiance  of  the  law  he  was  filling  his  fresh 
regiments  with  Catholic  officers.  He  dismissed  Halifax  from  the  Privy 
Council  on  his  refusal  to  consent  to  a  plan  for  repealing  the  Test 
Act.  He  met  the  Parhament  with  a  haughty  declaration  that  whether 
legal  or  no  his  grant  of  commissions  to  Catholics  must  not  be  ques- 
tioned, and  with  a  demand  of  supplies  for  his  new  troops.  Loyal  as 
was  the  temper  of  the  Houses,  their  alarm  for  the  Church,  their  dread 
of  a  standing  army,  was  yet  stronger  than  their  loyalty.  The  Commons 
by  the  majority  of  a  single  vote  deferred  the  grant  of  supplies  till 
grievances  were  redressed,  and  demanded  in  their  address  the  recall 
of  the  illegal  commissions.  The  Lords  took  a  bolder  tone  ;  and  the 
protest  of  the  bishops  against  any  infringement  of  the  Test  Act  was 
backed  by  the  eloquence  of  Halifax.  But  both  Houses  were  at  once 
prorogued.  The  King  resolved  to  obtain  from  the  judges  what  he 
could  not  obtain  from  Parliament.  He  remodelled  the  bench  by 
dismissing  four  judges  who  refused  to  lend  themselves  to  his  plans  ; 
and  their  successors  decided  in  the  case  of  Sir  Edward  Hales,  a 
Catholic  officer  in  the  army,  that  a  royal  dispensation  could  be 
pleaded  in  bar  of  the  Test  Act.  The  principle  laid  down  by  the 
judges  asserted  the  right  of  the  King  to  dispense  with  penal  laws 
according  to  his  own  judgement,  and  it  was  applied  by  James  with 
a  reckless  impatience  of  all  decency  and  self-restraint.  Catholics 
were  admitted  into  civil  and  military  offices  without  stint,  and  four 
Catholic  peers  were  sworn  as  members  of  the  Privy  Council.  The 
laws  which  forbade  the  presence  of  Catholic  priests  in  the  realm,  or 
the  open  exercise  of  Catholic  worship,  were  set  at  nought.  A  gorgeous 
chapel  was  opened  in  the  palace  of  St.  James  for  the  worship  of  the 
Kmg.  Carmelites,  Benedictines,  Franciscans,  appeared  in  their  re- 
ligious garb  in  the  streets  of  London,  and  the  Jesuits  set  up  a  crowded 
school  in  the  Savoy. 

The  quick  growth  of  discontent  at  these  acts  would  have  startled  a 
wiser  man  into  prudence,  but  James  prided  himself  on  an  obstinacy 


668 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VI. 

The 

Second 

Stuart 

Tyranny 

168a 

TO 

1688 


The  Hiqh 
CowmiiiioH 

1686 


which  never  gave  way  ;  and  a  riot  which  took  place  on  the  opening  of 
a  fresh  Catholic  chapel  in  the  City  was  followed  by  the  establishment 
of  a  camp  of  thirteen  thousand  men  at  Hounslow  to  overawe  the 
capital.  The  course  which  James  intended  to  follow  in  England  was 
shown  by  the  course  he  was  following  in  the  sister  kingdoms.  In 
Scotland  he  acted  as  a  pure  despot.  He  placed  its  governm<«'  '  '"the 
hands  of  two  lords,  Melfort  and  Perth,  who  had  embraced^  'vn 

religion,  and  put  a  Catholic  in  command  of  the  Castle  of  Ei'  i.^gh. 
The  Scotch  Parliament  had  as  yet  been  the  mere  creatur  A  the 
Crown,  but  servile  as  were  its  members  there  was  a  point  kt  which 
their  servility  stopped.  When  James  boldly  required  them  to- legalize 
the  toleration  of  Catholics,  they  refused  to  pass  such  an  Act.  It  was 
in  vain  that  the  King  tempted  them  to  consent  by  the  offer  of  a 
free  trade  with  England.  "  Shall  we  sell  our  God  ? "  was  the 
indignant  reply.  James  at  once  ordered  the  Scotch  judges  to  treat 
all  laws  against  Catholics  as  null  and  void,  and  his  orders  were 
obeyed.  In  Ireland  his  policy  threw  off  even  the  disguise  of  law. 
Catholics  were  admitted  by  the  King's  command  to  the  Council  and 
to  civil  offices.  A  Catholic,  Lord  Tyrconnell,  was  put  at  the  head  of 
the  army,  and  set  instantly  about  its  re-organization  by  cashiering 
Protestant  officers  and  by  admitting  two  thousand  Catholic  natives 
into  its  ranks.  Meanwhile  James  had  begun  in  England  a  bold  and 
systematic  attack  upon  the  Church.  He  regarded  his  ecclesiastical 
supremacy  as  a  weapon  providentially  left  to  him  for  undoing  the 
work  which  it  had  enabled  his  predecessors  to  do.  Under  Henry  and 
Elizabeth  it  had  been  used  to  turn  the  Church  of  England  from 
Catholic  to  Protestant.  Under  James  it  should  be  used  to  turn  it 
back  again  from  Protestant  to  Catholic.  The  High  Commission 
indeed  had  been  declared  illegal  by  an  Act  of  the  Long  Parliament, 
and  this  Act  had  been  confirmed  by  the  Parliament  of  the  Restora- 
tion. But  it  was  thought  possible  to  evade  this  Act  by  omitting  from 
the  instructions  on  which  the  Commission  acted  the  extraordinar\' 
powers  and  jurisdictions  by  which  its  predecessor  had  given  offence. 
With  this  reserve,  seven  commissioners  were  appointed  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Church,  with  Jeffreys  at  their  head  ;  and  the  first  blow  of 
the  Commission  was  at  the  Bishop  of  London.  James  had  forbidden 
the  clergy  to  preach  against  "the  King's  religion,"  and  ordered 
Bishop  Compton  to  suspend  a  London  vicar  who  set  this  order  at 
defiance.  The  Bishop's  refusal  was  punished  by  his  own  suspension. 
But  the  pressure  of  the  Commission  only  drove  the  clergy  to  a  bolder 
defiance  of  the  royal  will.  Sermons  against  superstition  were  preached 
from  every  pulpit  ;  and  the  two  most  famous  divines  of  the  day, 
Tillotson  and  Stillingfleet,  put  themselves  at  the  head  of  a  host  of 
controversialists  who  scattered  pamphlets  and  tracts  from  ever>' 
printing  press. 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


669 


It  was  in  vain  that  the  bulk  of  the  CathoHc  gentry  stood  aloof  and 
predicted  the  inevitable  reaction  his  course  must  bring  about,  or  that 
Rome  itself  counselled  greater  moderation.  James  was  infatuated 
with  what  seemed  to  be  the  success  of  his  enterprises.  He  looked  on 
the  opposition  he  experienced  as  due  to  the  influence  of  the  High 
Ch-'  '  "^ories  who  had  remained  in  power  since  the  reaction  of  168 1, 
ar  e  he  determined  "to  chastise."     The  Duke  of  Queensberry, 

the  -  of  this  party  in  Scotland,  was  driven  from  office.  Tyrconnell, 

as  wt  /e  seen,  was  placed  as  a  check  on  Ormond  in  Ireland.  In 
Englana  James  resolved  to  show  the  world  that  even  the  closest  ties 
of  blood  were  as  nothing  to  him  if  they  conflicted  with  the  demands  of 
his  faith.  His  earlier  marriage  with  Anne  Hyde,  the  daughter  of 
Clarendon,  bound  both  the  Chancellor's  sons  to  his  fortunes  ;  and  on 
his  accession  he  had  sent  his  elder  brother-in-law,  Henry,  Earl  of 
Clarendon,  as  Lord  Lieutenant  to  Ireland,  and  raised  the  younger, 
Laurence,  Earl  of  Rochester,  to  the  post  of  Lord  Treasurer.  But 
Rochester  was  now  told  that  the  King  could  not  safely  entrust  so 
great  a  charge  to  any  one  who  did  not  share  his  sentiments  on  religion, 
and  on  his  refusal  to  abandon  his  faith  he  was  deprived  of  the  White 
Staff.  His  brother,  Clarendon,  shared  his  fall.  A  Catholic,  Lord 
Bellasys,  became  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  which  was  put  into  com- 
mission after  Rochester's  removal ;  and  another  Catholic,  Lord  Arundel, 
became  Lord  Privy  Seal,  while  Father  Petre,  a  Jesuit,  was  called  to 
the  Privy  Council.  One  official  after  another  who  refused  to  aid  in 
the  repeal  of  the  Test  Act  was  dismissed.  In  defiance  of  the  law  the 
Nuncio  of  the  Pope  was  received  in  state  at  Windsor.  But  even  James 
could  hardly  fail  to  perceive  the  growth  of  public  discontent.  If  the 
great  Tory  nobles  were  staunch  for  the  Crown,  they  were  as  resolute 
Englishmen  in  their  hatred  of  mere  tyranny  as  the  Whigs  themselves. 
James  gave  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  the  sword  of  State  to  carry  before 
him  as  he  went  to  Mass.  The  Duke  stopped  at  the  Chapel  door. 
"Your  father  would  have  gone  further,"  said  the  King.  "Your 
Majesty's  father  was  the  better  man,"  replied  the  Duke,  "and  he  would 
not  have  gone  so  far."  The  young  Duke  of  Somerset  was  ordered  to 
introduce  the  Nuncio  into  the  Presence  Chamber.  "  I  am  advised," 
he  answered,  "  that  I  cannot  obey  your  Majesty  without  breaking  the 
law."  "  Do  you  not  know  that  I  am  above  the  law  ?  "  James  asked 
angrily.  "Your  Majesty  may  be,  but  I  am  not,"  retorted  the  Duke. 
He  was  dismissed  from  his  post ;  but  the  spirit  of  resistance  spread 
fast.  In  spite  of  the  King's  letters  the  governors  of  the  Charter 
House,  who  numbered  among  them  some  of  the  greatest  English 
nobles,  refused  to  admit  a  Catholic  to  the  benefits  of  the  foundation. 
The  most  devoted  loyalists  began  to  murmur  when  James  demanded 
apostasy  as  a  proof  of  their  loyalty.  He  had  soon  in  fact  to  abandon 
all  hope  of  bringing  the  Church  or  the  Tories  over  to  his  will.     He 


670 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


turned,  as  Charles  had  turned,  to  the  Nonconformists,  and  published 
in  1687  a  Declaration  of  Indulgence  which  suspended  the  operation  of 
the  penal  laws  against  Nonconformists  and  Catholics  alike,  and  of  every 
Act  which  imposed  a  test  as  a  qualification  for  office  in  Church  or 
State.  The  temptation  to  accept  the  Indulgence  was  great,  for  since 
the  fall  of  Shaftesbury  persecution  had  fallen  heavily  on  the  Pro- 
testant dissidents,  and  we  ran  hardly  wonder  that  the  Nonconformists 
wavered  for  a  time,  or  that  numerous  addresses  of  thanks  were  pre- 
sented to  James.  But  the  great  body  of  them,  and  all  the  more 
venerable  names  among  them,  remained  true  to  the  cause  of  freedom. 
Baxter,  Howe,  and  Bunyan  all  refused  an  Indulgence  which  could 
only  be  purchased  by  the  violent  overthrow  of  the  law.  It  was  plain 
that  the  attempt  to  divide  the  forces  of  Protestantism  had  utterly 
failed,  and  that  the  only  mode  of  securing  his  end  was  to  procure  a 
repeal  of  the  Test  Act  from  Parliament  itself. 

The  temper  of  the  existing  Houses  however  remained  absolutely 
opposed  to  the  King's  project.  He  therefore  dissolved  the  Parliament, 
and  summoned  a  new  one.  But  no  free  Parliament  could  be  brought, 
as  he  knew,  to  consent  to  the  repeal.  The  Lords  indeed  could  be 
swamped  by  lavish  creations  of  new  peers.  "  Your  troop  of  horse," 
his  minister.  Lord  Sunderland,  told  Churchill,  "shall  be  called  up  into 
the  House  of  Lords."  But  it  was  a  harder  matter  to  secure  a  com- 
pliant House  of  Commons.  The  Lord-Lieutenants  were  directed  to 
bring  about  such  a  "  regulation  "  of  the  governing  body  in  boroughs 
as  would  ensure  the  return  of  candidates  pledged  to  the  repeal  of  the 
Test,  and  to  question  every  magistrate  in  their  county  as  to  his  vote. 
Half  of  them  at  once  refused,  and  a  long  list  of  great  nobles — the 
Earls. of  Oxford,  Shrewsbury,  Dorset,  Derby,  Pembroke,  Rutland, 
Abergavenny,  Thanet,  Northampton,  and  Abingdon — were  dismissed 
from  their  Lord-Lieutenancies.  The  justices  when  questioned  simply 
replied  that  they  would  vote  according  to  their  consciences,  and  send 
members  to  Parliament  who  would  protect  the  Protestant  religion. 
After  repeated  "  regulations  "  it  was  found  impossible  to  form  a  cor- 
porate body  which  would  return  representatives  willing  to  comply  with 
the  royal  will.  All  thought  of  a  Parliament  had  to  be  abandoned  ;  and 
even  the  most  bigoted  courtiers  counselled  moderation  at  this  proof 
of  the  stubborn  opposition  which  James  must  prepare  to  encounter 
from  the  peers,  the  gentry,  and  the  trading  classes.  The  clergy  alone 
still  hesitated  in  any  open  act  of  resistance.  Even  the  tyranny  of  the 
Commission  failed  to  rouse  into  open  disaffection  men  who  had  been 
preaching  Sunday  after  Sunday  the  doctrine  of  passive  obedience  to  the 
worst  of  kings.  But  James  cared  little  for  passive  obedience.  He  looked 
on  the  refusal  of  the  clergy  to  support  his  plans  as  freeing  him  from 
his  pledge  to  maintain  the  Church  as  established  by  law  ;  and  he  re- 
solved to  attack  it  in  the  great  institutions  which  had  till  now  been  its 


tx.j 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


671 


strongholds.     To  secure  the  Universities  for  Catholicism  was  to  seize 
the  only  training  schools  which  the  clergy  possessed.      Cambridge 
indeed  escaped  easily.     A  Benedictine  monk  who  presented  himself 
with  royal  letters  recommending  him  for  the  degree  of  a  Master  of 
Arts  was  rejected  on  his  refusal  to  sign  the  Articles :  and  the  Vice- 
Chancellor  paid  for  the  rejection  by  dismissal  from  his  office.     But  a 
violent  and  obstinate  attack  was  directed  against  Oxford.     The  Master 
of  University  College,  who  declared  himself  a  convert,  was  authorized 
to  retain  his  post  in  defiance  of  the  law.     Massey,  a  Roman  Catholic, 
was   presented    by   the   Crown  to   the   Deanery   of  Christ    Church. 
Magdalen  was  the  wealthiest  Oxford   College,   and  James  in  1687 
recommended  one  Farmer,  a  Catholic  of  infamous  life  and  not  even 
qualified  by  statute  for  the  office,  to  its  vacant  headship.     The  Fellows 
remonstrated,  and  on  the  rejection  of  their  remonstrance  chose  Hough, 
one  of  their  own  number,  as  theirPresident.     The  Ecclesiastical  Com- 
mission declared  the  election  void  ;  and  James,  shamed  out  of  his  first 
candidate,    recommended   a   second,    Parker,    Bishop  of  Oxford,   a 
Catholic  in  heart  and  the  meanest  of  his  courtiers.     But  the  Fellows 
held  stubbornly  to  their  legal  head.     It  was  in  vain  that  the  King 
visited  Oxford,  summoned  them  to  his  presence,  and  rated  them  as 
they  knelt  before  him  like  schoolboys.     "  I  am  King,"  he  said,  "  I  will 
be  obeyed  !     Go  to  your  chapel  this  instant,  and  elect  the  Bishop  ! 
Let  those  who  refuse  look  to  it,  for  they  shall  feel  the  whole  weight  of 
my  hand  ! "     It  was  seen  that  to  give  Magdalen  as  well  as  Christ 
Church  into  Catholic  hands  was  to  turn  Oxford  into  a  Catholic  semi- 
nary, and  the  King's  threats  were  disregarded.     But  they  were  soon 
carried  out.     A  special  Commission  visited  the  University,  pronounced 
Hough  an  intruder,  set  aside  his  appeal  to  the  law,  burst  open  the  door 
of  his  President's  house  to  install  Parker  in  his  place,  and  on  their 
refusal  to  submit  deprived  the  Fellows  of  their  fellowships.     The  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Fellows  was  followed  on  a  like  refusal  by  that  of  the 
Demies.     Parker,  who  died  immediately  after  his   installation,  was 
succeeded  by  a  Roman   Catholic  bishop  in  partibus^  Bonaventure 
Giffard,  and  twelve  Catholics  were  admitted  to  fellowships  in  a  single 
day. 

Meanwhile  James  clung  to  the  hope  of  finding  a  compliant  Parlia- 
ment, from  which  he  might  win  a  repeal  of  the  Test  Act.  In  face  of 
the  dogged  opposition  of  the  country  the  elections  had  been  ad- 
journed ;  and  a  renewed  Declaration  of  Indulgence  was  intended  as 
an  appeal  to  the  nation  at  large.  At  its  close  he  promised  to  summon 
a  Parliament  in  November,  and  he  called  on  the  electors  to  choose  such 
members  as  would  bring  to  a  successful  end  the  policy  he  had  begun. 
His  resolve,  he  said,  was  to  establish  universal  liberty  of  conscience 
lor  all  future  time.  It  was  in  this  character  of  a  royal  appeal  that  he 
ordered  every  clergyman  to  read  the  declaration  during  divine  service 


672 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


on  two  successive  Sundays.  Little  time  was  given  for  deliberation,  but 
little  time  was  needed.  The  clergy  refused  almost  to  a  man  to  be  the 
instruments  of  their  own  humiliation.  The  Declaration  was  read  in 
only  four  of  the  London  churches,  and  in  these  the  congregation 
flocked  out  of  church  at  the  first  words  of  it.  Nearly  all  of  the 
country  clergy  refused  to  obey  the  royal  orders.  The  Bishops  went 
with  the  rest  of  the  clergy.  A  few  days  before  the  appointed  Sunday 
Archbishop  Sancroft  called  his  suffragans  together,  and  the  six  who 
were  able  to  appear  at  Lambeth  signed  a  temperate  protest  to  the 
King,  in  which  they  declined  to  publish  an  illegal  Declaration.  "  It  is 
a  standard  of  rebellion,"  James  exclaimed  as  the  Primate  presented 
the  paper  ;  and  the  resistance  of  the  clergy  was  no  sooner  announced 
to  him  than  he  determined  to  wreak  his  vengeance  on  the  prelates 
who  had  signed  the  protest.  He  ordered  the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sioners to  deprive  them  of  their  sees,  but  in  this  matter  even  the 
Commissioners  shrank  from  obeying  him.  The  Chancellor,  Lord 
Jeffreys,  advised  a  prosecution  for  libel  as  an  easier  mode  of  punish- 
ment ;  and  the  bishops,  who  refused  to  give  bail,  were  committed  on 
this  charge  'to  the  Tower.  They  passed  to  their  prison  amidst  the 
shouts  of  a  great  multitude,  the  sentinels  knelt  for  their  blessing  as 
they  entered  its  gates,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  drank  their 
healths.  So  threatening  was  the  temper  of  the  nation  that  his  minis- 
ters pressed  James  to  give  way.  But  his  obstinacy  grew  with  the 
danger.  "Indulgence,"  he  said,  "ruined  my  father;"  and  on  the 
29th  of  June  the  bishops  appeared  as  criminals  at  the  bar  of  the  King's 
Bench.  The  jury  had  been  packed,  the  judges  were  mere  tools  of  the 
Crown,  but  judges  and  jury  were  alike  overawed  by  the  indignation  of 
the  people  at  large.  No  sooner  had  the  foreman  of  the  jury  uttered 
the  words  "  Not  guilty  "  than  a  roar  of  applause  burst  from  the  crowd, 
and  horsemen  spurred  along  every  road  to  carry  over  the  country  the 
news  of  the  acquittal. 


Section  VII.— WUUam  of  Oranffo. 

[Authoriiies, — As  before  ] 

Amidst  the  tumult  of  the  Plot  and  the  Exclusion  Rill  the  wiser 
among  English  statesmen  had  fixed  their  hopes  steadily  on  the 
succession  of  Mary,  the  elder  daughter  and  heiress  of  James.  The 
tyranny  of  her  father's  reign  made  this  succession  the  hope  of  the 
people  at  large.  But  to  Europe  the  importance  of  the  change,  when- 
ever it  should  come  about,  lay  not  so  much  in  the  succession  of  Mary., 
as  in  the  new  power  which  such  an  event  would  give  to  her  husband, 
William  Prince  of  Orange.  We  have  come  in  fact  to  a  moment  when 
the  struggle  of  England  against  the  aggression  of  its  King  blend»  wiui 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


673 


the  larger  struggle  of  Europe  against  the  aggression  of  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth,  and  it  is  only  by  a  rapid  glance  at  the  political  state  of 
the  Continent  that  we  can  understand  the  real  nature  and  results  of 
the  Revolution  which  drove  James  from  the  throne. 

At  this  moment  France  was  the  dominant  power  in  Christendom. 
The  religious  wars  which  began  with  the  Reformation  had  broken  the 
strength  of  the  nations  around  her.  Spain  was  no  longer  able  to  fight 
the  battle  of  Catholicism.  The  Peace  of  Westphalia,  by  the  inde- 
pendence it  gave  to  the  German  princes  and  the  jealousy  it  kept  alive 
between  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  powers  of  Germany,  destroyed 
the  strength  of  the  Empire.  The  German  branch  of  the  House  of 
Austria,  spent  vrith  the  long  struggle  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  had 
enough  to  do  in  battling  hard  against  the  advance  of  the  Turks  from 
Hungary  on  Vienna.  The  victories  of  Gustavus  and  of  the  generals 
whom  he  formed  had  been  dearly  purchased  by  the  exhaustion  of 
Sweden.  The  United  Provinces  were  as  yet  hardly  regarded  as  a 
great  power,  and  were  trammelled  by  their  contest  with  England  for 
the  empire  of  the  seas.  France  alone  profited  by  the  general  wreck. 
The  wise  policy  of  Henry  the  Fourth  in  securing  religious  peace  by  a 
grant  of  toleration  to  the  Protestants  had  undone  the  ill  effects  of  its 
religious  wars.  The  Huguenots  were  still  numerous  south  of  the 
Loire,  but  the  loss  of  their  fortresses  had  turned  their  energies  into 
the  peaceful  channels  of  industry  and  trade.  Feudal  disorder  was 
roughly  put  down  by  Richelieu,  and  the  policy  which  gathered  all  local 
power  into  the  hands  of  the  crown,  though  fatal  in  the  end  to  the  real 
welfare  of  France,  gave  it  for  the  moment  an  air  of  good  government, 
and  a  command  over  its  internal  resources  which  no  other  country 
could  boast.  Its  compact  and  fertile  territory,  the  natural  activity  and 
enterprise  of  its  people,  and  the  rapid  growth  of  its  commerce  and 
manufactures,  were  sources  of  natural  wealth  which  even  its  heavy 
taxation  failed  to  check.  In  the  latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century 
France  was  looked  upon  as  the  wealthiest  power  in  Europe.  The 
yearly  income  of  the  French  crown  was  double  that  of  England,  and 
even  Lewis  the  Fourteenth  trusted  as  much  to  the  credit  of  his 
treasury  as  to  the  glory  of  his  arms.  "After  all,"  he  said,  when  the 
fortunes  of  war  began  to  turn  against  him,  "  it  is  the  last  louis  d'or 
which  must  win  !  "  It  was  in  fact  this  superiority  in  wealth  which 
enabled  France  to  set  on  foot  forces  such  as  had  never  been  seen  in 
Europe  since  the  downfall  of  Rome.  At  the  opening  of  the  reign  of 
Lewis  the  Fourteenth  its  army  mustered  a  hundred  thousand  men. 
With  the  war  against  Holland  it  rose  to  nearly  two  hundred  thousand. 
In  the  last  struggle  against  the  Grand  Alliance  there  was  a  time  when 
it  counted  nearly  half  a  million  of  men  in  arms.  Nor  was  France 
content  with  these  enormous  land  forces.  Since  the  ruin  of  Spain  the 
flee^b  of  Holland  and  of  England  had  alone  disputed  the  empire  of 

z 


674 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  seas.  Under  Richelieu  and  Mazarin  France  could  hardly  be 
looked  upon  as  a  naval  power.  But  the  early  years  of  Lewis  saw  the 
creation  of  a  navy  of  loo  men-of-war,  and  the  fleets  of  France  soon 
held  their  own  against  England  or  the  Dutch. 

Such  a  power  would  have  been  formidable  at  any  time  ;  but  it  was 
doubly  formidable  when  directed  by  statesmen  who  in  knowledge  and 
ability  were  without  rivals  in  Europe.  No  diplomatist  could  compare 
with  Lionne,  no  war  minister  with  Louvois,  no  financier  with  Colbert. 
Their  young  master,  Lewis  the  Fourteenth,  bigoted,  narrow-minded, 
commonplace  as  he  was,  without  personal  honour  or  personal  courage, 
without  gratitude  and  without  pity,  insane  in  his  pride,  insatiable  in 
his  vanity,  brutal  in  his  selfishness,  had  still  many  of  the  qualities  of 
a  great  ruler :  industry,  patience,  quickness  of  resolve,  firmness  of 
purpose,  a  capacity  for  discerning  greatness  and  using  it,  an  immense 
self-belief  and  self-confidence,  and  a  temper  utterly  destitute  indeed 
of  real  greatness,  but  with  a  dramatic  turn  for  seeming  to  be  great. 
As  a  politician  Lewis  had  simply  to  reap  the  harvest  which  the  two 
great  Cardinals  who  went  before  him  had  sown.  Both  had  used  to 
the  profit  of  France  the  exhaustion  and  dissension  which  the  wars  of 
religion  had  brought  upon  Europe.  Richelieu  turned  the  scale  against 
the  House  of  Austria  by  his  alliance  with  Sweden,  with  the  United 
Provinces,  and  with  the  Protestant  princes  of  Germany  ;  and  the  two 
great  treaties  by  which  Mazarin  ended  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  the 
Treaty  of  Westphalia  and  the  Treaty  of  the  Pyrenees,  left  the  Empire 
disorganized  and  Spain  powerless.  From  that  moment  indeed  Spain 
sank  into  a  strange  decrepitude.  Robbed  of  the  chief  source  of  her 
wealth  by  the  independence  of  Holland,  weakened  at  home  by  the 
revolt  of  Portugal,  her  infantry  annihilated  by  Cond^  in  his  victory  of 
Rocroi,  her  fleet  ruined  by  the  Lhitch,  her  best  blood  drained  away  to 
the  Indies,  the  energies  of  her  people  destroyed  by  the  suppression  of 
all  liberty,  civil  or  religious,  her  intellectual  life  crushed  by  the  Inqui- 
sition, her  industry  crippled  by  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors,  by  financial 
oppression,  and  by  the  folly  of  her  colonial  system,  the  kingdom  which 
under  Philip  the  Second  had  aimed  at  the  empire  of  the  world  lay  helpless 
and  exhausted  under  Philip  the  Fourth.  The  aim  of  Lewis  from  1661, 
the  year  when  he  really  became  master  of  France,  was  to  carry  on  the 
policy  of  his  predecessors,  and  above  all  to  complete  the  ruin  of  Spain. 
The  conquest  o*  the  Spanish  provinces  in  the  Netherlands  would  carry 
his  border  to  the  Scheldt.  A  more  distant  hope  lay  in  the  probable 
extinction  of  the  Austrian  line  which  now  sat  on  the  throne  of  Spain. 
By  securing  the  succession  to  that  throne  for  a  French  prince,  not 
only  Castille  and  Aragon  with  the  Spanish  dependencies  in  Italy  and 
the  Netherlands,  but  the  Spanish  empire  in  the  New  World  would  be 
added  to  the  dominions  of  France.  Nothing  could  save  Spain  but  a 
union  of  the  European  powers,  and  to  prevent  this  union  by  his  nego- 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


675 


tiations  was  a  work  at  which  Lewis  toiled  for  years.  The  intervention 
of  the  Empire  was  guarded  against  by  a  renewal  of  the  old  alliances 
between  France  and  the  lesser  German  princes.  A  league  with  the 
Turks  gave  Austria  enough  to  do  on  her  eastern  border.  The  old 
league  with  Sweden,  the  old  friendship  with  Holland  were  skilfully 
maintained.  The  policy  of  Charles  the  Second  bound  England  to  the 
side  of  Lewis.  At  last  it  seemed  that  the  moment  for  which  he  had 
waited  had  come,  and  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Breda  gave  an 
opportunity  for  war  of  which  Lewis  availed  himself  in  1667.  But  the 
suddenness  and  completeness  of  the  French  success  awoke  a  general 
terror  before  which  the  skilful  diplomacy  of  Charles  gave  way. 
Holland  was  roused  to  a  sense  of  danger  at  home  by  the  appearance 
of  French  arms  on  the  Rhine.  England  woke  from  her  lethargy 
on  the  French  seizure  of  the  coast-towns  of  Flanders.  Sweden  joined 
the  two  Protestant  powers  in  the  Triple  Alliance  ;  and  the  dread  of  a 
wider  league  forced  Lewis  to  content  himself  with  the  southern  half  of 
Flanders  and  the  possession  of  a  string  of  fortresses  which  practically 
left  him  master  of  the  Netherlands. 

Lewis  was  maddened  by  the  check.  He  had  always  disliked  the 
Dutch  as  Protestants  and  Republicans ;  he  hated  them  now  as  an 
obstacle  which  must  be  taken  out  of  the  way  ere  he  could  resume  his 
projects  upon  Spain.  Four  years  were  spent  in  preparations  for  a 
decisive  blow.  The  French  army  was  gradually  raised  to  a  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand  men.  Colbert  created  a  fleet  which  rivalled  that 
of  Holland  in  number  and  equipment.  Sweden  was  again  won  over. 
England  was  again  secured  by  the  Treaty  of  Dover.  Meanwhile 
Holland  lay  wrapped  in  a  false  security.  The  French  alliance  had 
been  its  traditional  policy  since  the  days  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  and  it 
was  especially  dear  to  the  party  of  the  great  merchant  class  which  had 
mounted  to  power  on  the  fall  of  the  House  of  Orange.  John  de  Witt, 
the  leader  of  this  party,  though  he  had  been  forced  to  conclude  the 
Triple  Alliance  by  the  advance  of  Lewis  to  the  Rhine,  still  clung 
blindly  to  the  friendship  of  France.  His  trust  only  broke  down  when 
the  French  army  crossed  the  Dutch  border  in  1672,  and  the  glare 
of  its  watch-fires  was  seen  from  the  walls  of  Amsterdam.  For  the 
moment  Holland  lay  crushed  at  the  feet  of  Lewis,  but  the  arrogance 
of  the  conqueror  roused  again  the  stubborn  courage  which  had  wrung 
victory  from  Alva  and  worn  out  the  pride  of  Philip  the  Second.  De 
Witt  was  murdered  in  a  popular  tumult,  and  his  fall  called  William, 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  to  the  head  of  the  Republic.  Though  the  new 
Stadholder  had  hardly  reached  manhood,  his  great  qualities  at  once 
made  themselves  felt.  His  earlier  life  had  schooled  him  in  a  wonder- 
ful self-control.  He  had  been  left  fatherless  and  all  but  friendless  in 
childhood,  he  had  been  bred  among  men  who  looked  on  his  very 
existence  as  a  danger  to  the  State,  his  words  had  been  watched,  his 


076 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAV 


looks  noted,  his  friends  jealously  withdrawn.  In  such  an  atmosphere 
the  boy  grew  up  silent,  wary,  self-contained,  grave  in  temper,  cold  in 
demeanour,  blunt  and  even  repulsive  in  address.  He  was  weak  and 
sickly  from  his  cradle,  and  manhood  brought  with  it  an  asthma  and 
consumption  which  shook  his  frame  with  a  constant  cough  ;  his  face 
was  sullen  and  bloodless  and  scored  with  deep  lines  which  told  of 
ceaseless  pain.  But  beneath  this  cold  and  sickly  presence  lay  a  fiery 
and  commanding  temper,  an  immoveable  courage,  and  a  political 
ability  of  the  highest  order.  William  was  a  born  statesman.  Neglected 
as  his  education  had  been  in  other  ways,  for  he  knew  nothing  of  letters 
or  of  art,  he  had  been  carefully  trained  in  politics  by  John  De  Witt : 
and  the  wide  knowledge  with  which  in  his  first  address  to  the  States- 
General  the  young  Stadholder  reviewed  the  general  state  of  Europe, 
the  cool  courage  with  which  he  calculated  the  chances  of  the  struggle, 
at  once  won  him  the  trust  of  his  countrymen.  Their  trust  was  soon 
rewarded.  Holland  was  saved,  and  province  after  province  won  back 
from  the  arms  of  France,  by  William's  dauntless  resolve.  Like  his 
great  ancestor,  William  the  Silent,  he  was  a  luckless  commander,  and 
no  general  had  to  bear  more  frequent  defeats.  But  he  profited  by 
defeat  as  other  men  profit  by  victory.  His  bravery  indeed  was  of 
that  nobler  cast  which  rises  to  its  height  in  moments  of  ruin  and 
dismay.  The  coolness  with  which,  boy-general  as  he  was,  he  rallied 
his  broken  squadrons  amidst  the  rout  of  Seneff,  and  wrested  from 
Cond^  at  the  last  the  fruits  of  his  victory,  moved  his  veteran  opponent 
to  a  generous  admiration.  It  was  in  such  moments  indeed  that  the 
real  temper  of  the  man  broke  through  the  veil  of  his  usual  reserve.  A 
strange  light  flashed  from  his  eyes  as  soon  as  he  was  under  fire,  and 
in  the  terror  and  confusion  of  defeat  his  manners  took  an  ease  and 
gaiety  that  charmed  every  soldier  around  him. 

The  political  ability  of  William  was  seen  in  the  skill  with  which  he 
drew  Spain  and  the  House  of  Austria  into  a  coalition  against  France, 
a  union  which  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Grand  Alliance.  But  France 
was  still  matchless  in  arms,  and  the  effect  of  her  victories  was  seconded 
by  the  selfishness  of  the  allies,  and  above  all  by  the  treacherous  diplo- 
macy of  Charles  the  Second.  William  was  forced  to  consent  in  1678 
to  the  Treaty  of  Nimegnen,  which  left  France  dominant  over  Europe 
as  she  had  never  been  before.  Holland  indeed  was  saved  from  the 
revenge  of  Lewis,  but  fresh  spoils  had  been  wrested  from  Spain,  and 
Franche-Comtd,  which  had  been  restored  at  the  close  of  the  former 
war,  was  retained  at  the  end  of  this.  Above  all  France  overawed 
Europe  by  the  daring  and  success  with  which  she  had  faced  single- 
handed  the  wide  coalition  against  her.  Her  King's  arrogance  became 
unbounded.  Lorraine  was  turned  into  a  subject-state.  Genoa  was 
bombarded,  and  its  Doge  forced  to  seek  pardon  in  the  antechambers 
of  Versailles.     The  Pope  was  humiliated  by  the  march  of  an  army 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


677 


upon  Rome  to  avenge  a  slight  offered  to  the  French  ambassador. 
The  Empire  was  outraged  by  a  shameless  seizure  of  Imperial  fiefs  in 
Elsass  and  elsewhere.  The  whole  Protestant  world  was  defied  by 
the  persecution  of  the  Huguenots  which  was  to  culminate  in  the  revo- 
cation of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  In  the  mind  of  Lewis  peace  meant  a 
series  of  outrages  on  the  powers  around  him  ;  but  every  outrage  helped 
the  cool  and  silent  adversary  who  was  looking  on  from  the  Hague  to 
build  up  that  Great  Alliance  of  all  Europe  from  which  alone  he  looked 
for  any  effectual  check  to  the  ambition  of  France.  The  experience  of 
the  last  war  had  taught  William  that  of  such  an  alliance  England  must 
form  a  part,  and  the  efforts  of  the  Prince  ever  since  the  peace  had 
been  directed  to  secure  her  co-operation.  A  reconciliation  of  the 
King  with  his  Parliament  was  an  indispensable  step  towards  freeing 
Charles  from  his  dependence  on  France,  and  it  was  such  a  recon- 
ciliation that  William  at  first  strove  to  bring  about ;  but  he  was  for 
a  long  time  foiled  by  the  steadiness  with  which  Charles  clung  to  the 
power  whose  aid  was  needful  to  carry  out  the  schemes  which  he  was 
contemplating.  The  change  of  policy  however  which  followed  on 
the  fall  of  the  Cabal  and  the  entry  of  Danby  into  power  raised  new 
hopes  in  William's  mind  ;  and  his  marriage  with  Mary  dealt  Lewis 
what  proved  to  be  a  fatal  blow.  James  was  without  a  son,  and  the 
marriage  with  Mary  would  at  any  rate  ensure  William  the  aid  of 
England  in  his  great  enterprise  on  his  father-in-law's  death.  But  it 
was  impossible  to  wait  for  that  event,  and  though  the  Prince  used 
his  new  position  to  bring  Charles  round  to  a  decided  policy  his  efforts 
remained  fruitless.  The  storm  of  the  Popish  Plot  complicated  his 
position.  In  the  earlier  stages  of  the  Exclusion  Bill,  when  the 
Parliament  seemed  resolved  simply  to  pass  over  James  and  to  seat 
Mary  at  once  on  the  throne  after  her  uncle's  death,  William  stood 
apart  from  the  struggle,  doubtful  of  its  issue,  though  prepared  to 
accept  the  good  luck  if  it  came  to  him.  But  the  fatal  error  of 
Shaftesbury  in  advancing  the  claims  of  Monmouth  forced  him  into 
action.  To  preserve  his  wife's  right  of  succession,  with  all  the  great 
issues  which  were  to  come  of  it,  no  other  course  was  left  than  to 
adopt  the  cause  of  the  Duke  of  York.  In  the  crisis  of  the  struggle, 
therefore,  William  threw  his  whole  weight  on  the  side  of  James.  The 
eloquence  of  Halifax  secured  the  rejection  of  the  Exclusion  Bill,  and 
Halifax  was  but  the  mouthpiece  of  William. 

But  while  England  was  seething  with  the  madness  of  the  Popish 
Plot  and  of  the  royalist  reaction,  the  great  European  struggle  was 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer.  The  patience  of  Germany  was  worn  out 
by  the  ceaseless  aggressions  of  Lewis,  and  in  1686  its  princes  had 
bound  themselves  at  Augsburg  to  resist  all  further  encroachments  on 
the  part  of  France.  From  that  moment  war  became  inevitable,  and 
William  watched    the  course   of   his  father-in-law  with    redoubled 


678 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


anxiety.  His  efforts  to  ensure  English  aid  had  utterly  failed.  James 
had  renewed  his  brother's  secret  treaty  with  France,  and  plunged  into 
a  quarrel  with  his  people  which  of  itself  would  have  prevented  him 
from  giving  any  aid  in  a  struggle  abroad.  The  prince  could  only 
silently  look  on,  with  a  desperate  hope  that  James  might  yet  be  brought 
to  a  nobler  policy.  He  refused  all  encouragement  to  the  leading  mal- 
contents who  were  already  calling  on  him  to  interfere  in  arms.  On 
the  other  hand  he  declined  to  support  the  King  in  his  schemes  for  the 
abolition  of  the  Test.  If  he  still  cherished  hopes  of  bringing  about 
a  peace  between  the  King  and  people  which  might  enable  him  to 
enlist  England  in  the  Grand  Alliance,  they  vanished  in  1687  before 
the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  James 
called  on  him  to  declare  himself  in  favour  of  the  abolition  of  the  penal 
laws  and  of  the  Test.  But  simultaneously  with  the  King's  appeal 
came  letters  of  warning  and  promises  of  support  from  the  leading 
English  nobles.  Some,  like  the  Hydes,  simply  assured  him  of  their 
friendship.  The  Bishop  of  London  added  promises  of  support.  Others, 
like  Devonshire,  Nottingham,  and  Shrewsbury,  cautiously  or  openly 
warned  the  Prince  against  compliance  with  the  King's  demand.  Lord 
Churchill  announced  the  resolve  of  Mary's  sister  Anne  to  stand  by  the 
cause  of  Protestantism.  Danby,  the  leading  representative  of  the 
great  Tory  party,  sent  urgent  warnings.  The  letters  dictated  William's 
answer.  No  one,  he  truly  protested,  loathed  religious  persecution 
more  than  he  himself  did,  but  in  relaxing  political  disabilities  James 
called  on  him  to  countenance  an  attack  on  his  own  religion.  **I 
cannot,"  he  ended,  "  concur  in  what  your  Majesty  desires  of  me." 
But  William  still  shrank  from  the  plan  of  an  intervention  in  arms. 
General  as  the  disaffection  undoubtedly  was,  the  position  of  James 
seemed  fairly  secure.  He  counted  on  the  aid  of  France.  He  had  an 
army  of  twenty  thousand  men.  Scotland,  disheartened  by  the  failure 
of  Argyll's  rising,  could  give  no  such  aid  as  it  gave  to  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment. Ireland  was  ready  to  throw  a  Catholic  army  on  the  western 
coast.  It  was  doubtful  if  in  England  itself  disaffection  would  turn 
into  actual  rebellion.  The  "  Bloody  Circuit "  had  left  its  terror  on  the 
Whigs.  The  Tories  and  the  Churchmen,  angered  as  they  were,  were 
hampered  by  their  doctrine  of  non-resistance.  William's  aim  therefore 
was  to  discourage  all  violent  counsels,  and  to  confine  himself  to 
organizing  such  a  general  opposition  as  would  force  James  by  legal 
means  to  reconcile  himself  to  the  country,  to  abandon  his  policy  at 
home  and  abroad,  and  to  join  the  alliance  against  France. 

But  at  this  moment  the  whole  course  of  William's  policy  was  changed 
by  an  unforeseen  event.  His  own  patience  and  that  of  the  nation 
rested  on  the  certainty  of  Mary's  succession.  But  in  the  midst  of 
the  King's  struggle  with  the  Church  it  was  announced  that  the  Queen 
was  again  with  child.     The  news  was  received  with  general  unbelief. 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


679 


for  five  years  had  passed  since  the  last  pregnancy  of  Mary  of  Modena. 
But  it  at  once  forced  on  a  crisis.  If,  as  the  CathoHcs  joyously  fore- 
told, the  child  turned  out  a  boy,  and,  as  was  certain,  was  brought  up 
a  Catholic,  the  highest  Tory  had  to  resolve  at  last  whether  the  tyranny 
under  which  England  lay  should  go  on  for  ever.  The  hesitation  of 
the  country  was  at  an  end.  Danby,  loyal  above  all  to  the  Church 
and  firm  in  his  hatred  of  subservience  to  France,  answered  for  the 
Tories  ;  Compton  for  the  High  Churchmen,  goaded  at  last  into  re- 
bellion by  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  The  Earl  of  Devonshire, 
the  Lord  Cavendish  of  the  Exclusion  struggle,  answered  for  the  Non- 
conformists, who  were  satisfied  with  William's  promise  to  procure 
them  toleration,  as  well  as  for  the  general  body  of  the  Whigs.  The 
announcement  of  the  birth  of  a  Prince  of  Wales  was  followed  ten 
days  after  by  a  fgrmal  invitation  to  William  to  intervene  in  arms  for 
the  restoration  of  English  liberty  and  the  protection  of  the  Protestant 
religion  ;  it  was  signed  by  the  representatives  of  the  great  parties  now 
united  against  a  common  danger,  and  by  some  others,  and  was  carried 
to  the  Hague  by  Herbert,  the  most  popular  of  English  seamen,  who 
had  been  deprived  of  his  command  for  a  refusal  to  vote  against  the 
Test.  The  Invitation  called  on  William  to  land  with  an  army  strong 
enough  to  justify  those  who  signed  it  in  rising  in  arms.  It  was  sent 
from  London  on  the  day  after  the  acquittal  of  the  Bishops.  The 
general  excitement,  the  shouts  of  the  boats  which  covered  the  river, 
the  bonfires  in  every  street,  showed  indeed  that  the  country  was  on 
the  eve  of  revolt.  The  army  itself,  on  which  James  had  implicitly 
relied,  suddenly  showed  its  sympathy  with  the  people.  James  was  at 
Hounslow  when  the  news  of  the  verdict  reached  him,  and  as  he  rode 
from  the  camp  he  heard  a  great  shout  behind  him.  "  What  is  that  ?" 
he  asked.  "  It  is  nothing,^'  was  the  reply,  "only  the  soldiers  are  glad 
that  the  Bishops  are  acquitted!"  "Do  you  call  that  nothing?" 
grumbled  the  King.  The  shout  told  him  that  he  stood  utterly  alone  in 
his  realm.  The  peerage,  the  gentry,  the  Bishops,  the  clergy,  the  Univer- 
sities, every  lawyer,  every  trader,  every  farmer,  stood  aloof  from  him. 
And  now  his  very  soldiers  forsook  him.  The  most  devoted  Catholics 
pressed  him  to  give  way.  But  to  give  way  was  to  change  the  whole 
nature  of  his  government.  All  show  of  legal  rule  had  disappeared. 
Sheriffs,  mayors,  magistrates,  appointed  by  the  Crown  in  defiance 
of  a  parliamentary  statute,  were  no  real  officers  in  the  eye  of  the  law. 
Even  if  the  Houses  were  summoned,  members  returned  by  officers 
such  as  these  could  form  no  legal  Parliament.  Hardly  a  Minister  of 
the  Crown  or  a  Privy  Councillor  exercised  any  lawful  authority.  James 
had  brought  things  to  such  a  pass  that  the  restoration  of  legal  govern- 
ment meant  the  absolute  reversal  of  every  act  he  had  done.  But  he 
was  in  no  mood  to  reverse  his  acts.  His  temper  was  only  spurred  to 
a  more  dogged  obstinacy  by  danger  and  remonstrance      He  broke  ,up 


68o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  camp  at  Hounslow  and  dispersed  its  troops  in  distant  cantonments. 
He  dismissed  the  two  judges  who  had  favoured  the  acquittal  of  the 
Bishops.  He  ordered  the  chancellor  of  each  diocese  to  report  the 
names  of  the  clergy  who  had  not  read  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence. 
But  his  will  broke  fruitlessly  against  the  sullen  resistance  which  met 
him  on  every  side.  Not  a  chancellor  made  a  return  to  the  Commis- 
sioners, and  the  Commissioners  were  cowed  into  inaction  by  the 
temper  of  the  nation.  When  the  judges  who  had  displayed  their 
servility  to  the  Crown  went  on  circuit  the  gentry  refused  to  meet  them. 
A  yet  fiercer  irritation  was  kindled  by  the  King's  resolve  to  supply 
the  place  of  the  English  troops,  whose  temper  proved  unserviceable 
for  his  purposes,  by  draughts  from  the  Catholic  army  which  Tyrcon- 
nell  had  raised  in  Ireland.  Even  the  Roman  Catholic  peers  at  the 
Council  table  protested  against  this  measure  ;  and  six  officers  in  a 
single  regiment  laid  down  their  commissions  rather  than  enroll  the 
Irish  recruits  among  their  men.  The  ballad  of  •'  LillibuUero,"  a 
scurrilous  attack  on  the  Irish  recruits,  was  sung  from  one  end  of 
England  to  the  other. 

An  outbreak  of  revolt  was  in  fact  inevitable.  William  was  straining 
all  his  resources  to  gather  a  fleet  and  sufficient  forces,  while  noble  after 
noble  made  their  way  to  the  Hague.  The  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  brought 
;^2,ooo  towards  the  expenses  of  the  expedition.  Edward  Russell,  the 
representative  of  the  Whig  Earl  of  Bedford,  was  followed  by  the 
representatives  of  great  Tory  houses,  by  the  sons  of  the  Marquis  of 
Winchester,  of  Lord  Danby,  of  Lord  Peterborough,  and  by  the  High 
Church  Lord  Macclesfield.  At  home  the  Earls  of  Danby  and  Devon- 
shire prepared  silently  with  Lord  Lumley  for  a  rising  in  the  North.  In 
spite  of  the  profound  secrecy  with  which  all  was  conducted,  the  keen 
instinct  of  Sunderland,  who  had  stooped  to  purchase  continuance  in 
office  at  the  price  of  a  secret  apostasy  to  Catholicism,  detected  the 
preparations  of  William  ;  and  the  sense  that  his  master's  ruin  was  at 
hand  encouraged  him  to  tell  every  secret  of  James  on  the  promise  of  a 
pardon  for  the  crimes  to  which  he  had  lent  himself  James  alone 
remained  stubborn  and  insensate  as  of  old.  He  had  no  fear  of  a 
revolt  unaided  by  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  he  believed  that  the  threat 
of  a  French  attack  on  Holland  would  render  William's  departure 
impossible.  But  in  September  the  long-delayed  war  began,  and  by 
the  greatest  political  error  of  his  reign  Lewis  threw  his  forces  not 
on  Holland,  but  on  Germany.  The  Dutch  at  once  felt  themselves 
secure  ;  the  States-General  gave  their  sanction  to  William's  project, 
and  the  armament  he  had  prepared  gathered  rapidly  in  the  Scheldt. 
The  news  no  sooner  reached  England  than  the  King  passed  from 
obstinacy  to  panic.  By  draughts  from  Scotland  and  Ireland  he  had 
mustered  forty  thousand  men,  but  the  temperof  the  troops  robbed  him 
of  all  trust  in  them.     Help  from  France  was  now  out  of  the  question. 


rx.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


68i 


He  could  only  fall  back  on  the  older  policy  of  a  union  with  the  Tory 
party  and  the  party  of  the  Church.     He  personally  appealed  for  support 
to  the  Bishops.     He  dissolved  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission.     He 
replaced  the  magistrates  he  had  driven  from  office.     He  restored  their 
franchises  to  the  towns.     The  Chancellor  carried  back  the  Charter  of 
London  in  state  into  the  City.     The  Bishop  of  Winchester  was  sent 
to  replace  the  expelled  Fellows  of  Magdalen.     Catholic  chapels  and 
Jesuit  schools  were  ordered  to  be  closed.     Sunderland  pressed  for  the 
instant  calling  of  a  Parliament,  but  to  James  the  counsel  seemed 
treachery,  and  he  dismissed  Sunderland  from  office.     In  answer  to  a 
declaration  from  the  Prince  of  Orange,  which  left  the  question  of  the 
legitimacy  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  Parliament,  he  proiuced  before 
the  peers  who  were  in  London  proofs  of  the  birth  of  his  child.     But 
concessions  and  proofs  came  too  late.     Detained  by  ill  winds,  beaten 
back  on  its  first  venture  by  a  violent  storm,  William's  fleet  of  six 
hundred  transports,  escorted  by  fifty  men-of-war,  anchored   on  the 
fifth  of  November  in  Torbay ;  and  his  army,  thirteen  thousand  men 
strong,  entered  Exeter  amidst  the  shouts  of  its  citizens.     His  coming 
had   not  been   looked  for  in   the  West,  and  for  a  week   no  great 
landowner  joined  him.     But  nobles  and  squires  soon  flocked  to  his 
camp,  and  the  adhesion  of  Plymouth  secured  his  rear.     Insurrection 
broke  out  in  Scotland.     Danby,  dashing  at  the  head  of  a  hundred 
horsemen  into  York,  gave  the  signal  for  a  rising.     The  militia  met 
his  appeal   with  shouts  of  "A  free  Parliament  and  the  Protestant 
religion  ! "     Peers  and  gentry  flocked  to  his  standard ;  and  a  march 
on  Nottingham  united  his  forces  to  those  under  Devonshire,  who 
had  mustered  at  Derby  the  great  lords  of  the  midland  and  eastern 
counties.     Everywhere  the  revolt  was  triumphant.     The  garrison  of 
Hull  declared  for  a  free  Parliament.     The  Duke  of  Norfolk  appeared 
at  the  head  of  three  hundred  gentlemen  in  the  market-place  at  Nor- 
wich.    At  Oxford  townsmen  and  gownsmen  greeted  Lord  Lovelace 
with  uproarious  welcome.     Bristol  threw  open  its  gates  to  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  who  advanced  steadily  on  Salisbury,  where  James  had 
mustered  his  forces.     But  the  King's  army,  broken  by  dissensions 
and  mutual   suspicions    among  its   leaders,  fell   back  in   disorder ; 
and  the  desertion  of  Lord  Churchill  was  followed  by  that  of  so  many 
other  officers  that  James  abandoned  the   struggle  in  despair.      He 
fled  to  London  to  hear  that  his  daughter  Anne  had  left  St.  James's 
to  join  Danby  at  Nottingham.     "  God  help  me,"  cried  the  wretched 
King,  "for  my  own  children  have  forsaken  me!"     His  spirit  was 
utterly  broken  ;  and  though  he  promised  to  call  the  Houses  together, 
and  despatched  commissioners  to  Hungerford  to  treat  with  William  on 
the  terms  of  a  free  Parliament,  in  his  heart  he  had  resolved  on  flight. 
Pariiament,  he  said  to  the  few  who  still  clung  to  him,  would  force  on 
him  concessions  he  could  not  endure  ;  and  he  only  waited  for  news  of 

z* 


682 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAl 


the  escape  of  his  wife  and  child  to  make  his  way  to  the  Isleof  Sheppey, 
where  a  hoy  lay  ready  to  carry  him  to  France.  Some  rough  fishermen, 
who  took  him  for  a  Jesuit,  prevented  his  escape,  and  a  troop  of  Life 
Guards  brought  him  back  in  safety  to  London  :  but  it  was  the  policy 
of  William  and  his  advisers  to  further  a  flight  which  removed  their 
chief  difficulty  out  of  the  way.  It  would  have  been  hard  to  depose 
James  had  he  remained,  and  perilous  to  keep  him  prisoner :  but  the 
entry  of  the  Dutch  troops  into  London,  the  silence  of  the  Prince,  and 
an  order  to  leave  St.  James's,  filled  the  King  with  fresh  terrors,  and 
taking  advantage  of  the  means  of  escape  which  were  almost  openly 
placed  at  his  disposal,  James  a  second  time  quitted  London  and 
embarked  on  the  23rd  of  December  unhindered  for  France. 

Before  flying  James  had  burnt  most  of  the  writs  convoking  the  new 
Parliament,  had  disbanded  his  army,  and  destroyed  so  far  as  he  could 
all  means  of  government.  For  a  few  days  there  was  a  wild  burst  oi 
panic  and  outrage  in  London,  but  the  orderly  instinct  of  the  people 
soon  reasserted  itself.  The  Lords  who  were  at  the  moment  in  London 
provided  on  their  own  authority  as  Privy  Councillors  for  the  more 
pressing  needs  of  administration,  and  resigned  their  authority  into 
William's  hands  on  his  arrival.  The  difficulty  which  arose  from  the 
absence  of  any  person  legally  authorized  to  call  Parliament  together 
was  got  over  by  convoking  the  House  of  Peers,  and  forming  a  second 
body  of  all  members  who  had  sat  in  the  Commons  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Second,  with  the  Aldermen  and  Common  Councillors  of 
London.  Both  bodies  requested  William  to  take  on  himself  the  pro- 
visional government  of  the  kingdom,  and  to  issue  circular  letters  in- 
viting the  electors  of  every  town  and  county  to  send  up  representatives 
to  a  Convention  which  met  in  January,  1689.  In  the  new  Convention 
both  Houses  were  found  equally  resolved  against  any  recall  of  or 
negotiation  with  the  fallen' King.  They  were  united  in  entrusting  a 
provisional  authority  to  the  Prince  of  Orange.  But  with  this  step 
their  unanimity  ended.  The  Whigs,  who  formed  a  majority  in  the 
Commons,  voted  a  resolution  which,  illogical  and  inconsistent  as  it 
seemed,  was  well  adapted  to  unite  in  its  favour  every  element  of  the 
opposition  to  James  :  the  Churchman  who  was  simply  scared  by  his 
bigotry,  the  Tory  who  doubted  the  right  of  a  nation  to  depose  its 
King,  the  Whig  who  held  the  theory  of  a  contract  between  King  and 
People.  They  voted  that  King  James,  "having  endeavoured  to  sub- 
vert the  constitution  of  this  kingdom  by  breaking  the  original  contract 
between  King  and  People,  and  by  the  advice  of  Jesuits  and  other 
wicked  persons  having  violated  the  fundamental  laws,  and  having 
withdrawn  himself  out  of  the  kingdom,  has  abdicated  the  Government, 
and  that  the  throne  is  thereby  vacant."  But  in  the  Lords,  where  the 
Tories  were  still  in  the  ascendant,  the  resolution  was  fiercely  debated. 
Archbishop  Sancroft  with  the  high  Tories  held  that  no  crime  could 


rx.T 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


683 


bring  about  a  forfeiture  of  the  crown,  and  that  James  still  remained 
King,  but  that  his  tyranny  had  given  the  nation  a  right  to  withdraw 
from  him  the  actual  exercise  of  government  and  to  entrust  his  functions 
to  a  Regency.  The  moderate  Tories  under  Danby's  guidance  admitted 
that  James  had  ceased  to  be  King,  but  denied  that  the  throne  could  be 
vacant,  and  contended  that  from  the  moment  of  his  abdication  the 
sovereignty  vested  in  his  daughter  Mary.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
eloquence  of  Halifax  backed  the  Whig  peers  in  struggling  for  the 
resolution  of  the  Commons  as  it  stood.  The  plan  of  a  Regency  was 
lost  by  a  single  vote,  and  Danby's  scheme  was  adopted  by  a  large 
majority.  But  both  the  Tory  courses  found  a  sudden  obstacle  in 
William.  He  declined  to  be  Regent.  He  had  no  mind,  he  said  to 
Danby,  to  be  his  wife's  gentleman-usher.  Mary,  on  the  other  hand, 
refused  to  accept  the  crown  save  in  conjunction  with  her  husband. 
The  two  declarations  put  an  end  to  the  question.  It  was  agreed  that 
William  and  Mary  should  be  acknowledged  as  joint  sovereigns,  but 
that  the  actual  administration  should  rest  with  William  alone.  A 
Parliamentary  Committee  in  which  the  most  active  member  was  John 
Somers,  a  young  lawyer  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  trial  of 
the  Bishops  and  who  was  destined  to  play  a  great  part  in  later  history, 
drew  up  a  Declaration  of  Rights  which  was  presented  on  February 
13th  to  William  and  Mary  by  the  two  Houses  in  the  banqueting-room 
at  Whitehall.  It  recited  the  misgovernment  of  James,  his  abdication, 
and  the  resolve  of  the  Lords  and  Commons  to  assert  the  ancient  rights 
and  liberties  of  English  subjects.  It  condemned  as  illegal  his  estab- 
lishment of  an  ecclesiastical  commission,  and  his  raising  an  army 
without  Parliamentary  sanction.  It  denied  the  right  of  any  king  to 
suspend  or  dispense  with  laws,  or  to  exact  money,  save  by  consent  of 
Parliament.  It  asserted  for  the  subject  a  right  to  petition,  to  a  free 
choice  of  representatives  in  Parliament,  and  to  a  pure  and  merciful 
administration  of  justice.  It  declared  the  right  of  both  Houses  to 
liberty  of  debate.  It  demanded  securities  for  the  free  exercise  of  their 
religion  by  all  Protestants,  and  bound  the  new  sovereign  to  maintain 
the  Protestant  religion  and  the  law  and  liberties  of  the  realm.  In  full 
faith  that  these  principles  would  be  accepted  and  maintained  by 
William  and  Mary,  it  ended  with  declaring  the  Prince  and  Princess  of 
Orange  King  and  Queen  of  England.  At  the  close  of  the  Declaration, 
Halifax,  in  the  name  of  the  Estates  of  the  Realm,  prayed  them  to 
receive  the  crown.  William  accepted  the  offer  in  his  own  name  and 
his  wife's,  and  declared  in  a  few  words  the  resolve  of  both  to  maintain 
the  laws  and  to  govern  by  advice  of  Parliament. 


684 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


Section  VIII.— The  Grand  Alliance.    1689—1697. 

[Authorities. — As  before] 

The  blunder  of  Lewis  in  choosing  Germany  instead  of  Holland  for 
his  point  of  attack  was  all  but  atoned  for  by  the  brilliant  successes 
with  which  he  opened  the  war.  The  whole  country  west  of  the  Rhine 
was  soon  in  his  hands  ;  his  armies  were  masters  of  the  Palatinate,  and 
penetrated  even  to  Wiirtemberg.  His  hopes  had  never  been  higher 
than  at  the  moment  when  the  arrival  of  James  at  St.  Germain  dashed 
all  hope  to  the  ground.  Lewis  was  at  once  thrown  back  on  a  war  of 
defence,  and  the  brutal  ravages  which  marked  the  retreat  of  his  armies 
from  the  Rhine  revealed  the  bitterness  with  which  his  pride  stooped  to 
the  necessity.  The  Palatinate  was  turned  into  a  desert.  The  same 
ruin  fell  on  the  stately  palace  of  the  Elector  at  Heidelberg,  on  the 
venerable  tombs  of  the  Emperors  at  Speyer,  on  the  town  of  the  trader, 
on  the  hut  of  the  vine-dresser.  In  accepting  the  English  throne  William 
had  been  moved  not  so  much  by  personal  ambition  as  by  the  prospect 
of  firmly  knitting  together  England  and  Holland,  the  two  great  Pro- 
testant powers  whose  fleets  held  the  mastery  of  the  sea,  as  his  diplo- 
macy had  knit  all  Germany  together  a  year  before  in  the  Treaty  of 
Augsburg.  But  the  advance  from  such  a  union  to  the  formation  of 
the  European  alliance  against  France  was  still  delayed  by  the  reluct- 
ance of  the  two  branches  of  the  House  of  Austria  in  Germany  and 
Spain  to  league  with  Protestant  States  against  a  Catholic  King,  while 
England  cared  little  to  join  in  an  attack  on  France  with  the  view  of 
saving  the  liberties  of  Europe.  All  hesitation,  however,  passed  away 
when  the  reception  of  James  as  still  King  of  England  at  St.  Germain 
gave  England  just  ground  for  a  declaration  of  war,  a  step  in  which  it 
was  soon  followed  by  Holland,  and  the  two  countries  at  once  agreed 
to  stand  by  one  another  in  their  struggle  against  France.  The  adhe- 
sion of  Spain  and  the  Court  of  Vienna  in  1689  to  this  agreement 
completed  the  Grand  Alliance  which  William  had  designed;  and 
when  Savoy  joined  the  allies  France  found  herself  girt  in  on  every 
side  save  that  of  Switzerland  with  a  ring  of  foes.  The  Scandinavian 
kingdoms  alone  stood  aloof  from  the  confederacy  of  Europe,  and  their 
neutrality  was  unfriendly  to  France.  Lewis  was  left  without  a  single 
ally  save  the  Turk  :  but  the  energy  and  quickness  of  movement  which 
sprang  from  the  concentration  of  the  power  of  France  in  a  single  hand 
still  left  the  contest  an  equal  one.  The  Empire  was  slow  to  move ; 
the  Court  of  Vienna  was  distracted  by  a  war  with  the  Turks  ;  Spain 
was  all  but  powerless  ;  Holland  and  England  were  alone  earnest  in 
the  struggle,  and  England  could  as  yet  give  little  aid  in  the  war.  One 
English  brigade,  indeed,  formed  from  the  regiments  raised  by  James, 
joined  the  Dutch  army  on  the  Sambre,  and  distinguished  itself  under 


IX.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


685 


Churchill,  who  had  been  rewarded  for  his  treason  by  the  title  of  Earl 
of  Marlborough,  in  a  brisk  skirmish  with  the  enemy  at  Walcourt.  But 
William  had  as  yet  grave  work  to  do  at  home. 

In  England  not  a  sword  had  been  drawn  for  James.  In  Scotland 
his  tyranny  had  been  yet  greater  than  in  England,  and  so  far  as  the 
Lowlands  went  the  fall  of  his  tyranny  was  as  rapid  and  complete.  No 
sooner  had  he  called  his  troops  southward  to  meet  William's  invasion 
than  Edinburgh  rose  in  revolt.  The  western  peasants  were  at  once 
up  in  arms,  and  the  Episcopalian  clergy  who  had  been  the  instruments 
of  the  Stuart  misgovernment  ever  since  the  Restoration  were  rabbled 
and  driven  from  their  parsonages  in  every  parish.  The  news  of 
these  disorders  forced  William  to  act,  though  he  was  without  a  show 
of  legal  authority  over  Scotland.  On  the  advice  of  the  Scotch 
Lords  present  in  London,  he  ventured  to  summon  a  Convention 
similar  to  that  which  had  been  summoned  in  England,  and  on  his  own 
responsibility  to  set  aside  the  laws  which  excluded  Presbyterians  from 
the  Scotch  Parliament.  This  Convention  resolved  that  James  had 
forfeited  the  crown  by  misgovernment,  and  offered  it  to  William  and 
Mary.  The  offer  was  accompanied  by  a  Claim  of  Right  framed  on 
the  model  of  the  Declaration  of  Rights  to  which  they  had  consented 
in  England,  but  closing  with  a  demand  for  the  abolition  of  Prelacy. 
Both  crown  and  claim  were  accepted,  and  the  arrival  of  the  Scotch 
regiments  which  William  had  brought  from  Holland  gave  strength  to 
the  new  Government.  Its  strength  was  to  be  roughly  tested.  John 
Graham  of  Claverhouse,  whose  cruelties  in  the  persecution  of  the 
Western  Covenanters  had  been  rewarded  by  high  command  in  the 
Scotch  army,  and  the  title  of  Viscount  Dundee,  withdrew  with  a  few 
troopers  from  Edinburgh  to  the  Highlands,  and  appealed  to  the  clans. 
In  the  Highlands  nothing  was  known  of  English  government  or  mis- 
government :  all  that  the  Revolution  meant  to  a  Highlander  was  the 
restoration  of  the  House  of  Argyll.  To  many  of  the  clans  it  meant 
the  restoration  of  lands  which  had  been  granted  them  on  the  Earl's 
attainder;  and  the  Macdonalds,  the  Macleans,  the  Camerons,  were 
as  ready  to  join  Dundee  in  fighting  the  Campbells  and  the  Govern- 
ment which  upheld  them  as  they  had  been  ready  to  join  Montrose 
in  the  same  cause  forty  years  before.  They  were  soon  in  arms.  As 
William's  Scotch  regiments  under  General  Mackay  climbed  the  pass 
of  Killiecrankie,  Dundee  charged  them  at  the  head  of  three  thousand 
clansmen  and  swept  them  in  headlong  rout  down  the  glen.  But  his 
death  in  the  moment  of  victory  broke  the  only  bond  which  held  the 
Highlanders  together,  and  in  a  few  weeks  the  host  which  had  spread 
terror  through  the  Lowlands  melted  helplessly  away.  In  the  next 
summer  Mackay  was  able  to  build  the  strong  post  of  Fort  William 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  disaffected  country,  and  his  offers  of  money 
and  pardon  brought  about  the  submission  of  the  clans.     Sir  John 


686 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Dalrymple,  the  Master  of  Stair,  in  whose  hands  the  government  of 
Scotland  at  this  time  mainly  rested,  had  hoped  that  a  refusal  of  the 
oath  of  allegiance  would  give  grounds  for  a  war  of  extermination,  and 
free  Scotland  for  ever  from  its  terror  of  the  Highlanders.  He  had 
provided  for  the  expected  refusal  by  orders  of  a  ruthless  severity. 
"  Your  troops,"  he  wrote  to  the  officer  in  command,  "  will  destroy 
entirely  the  country  of  Lochaber,  Lochiel's  lands,  Keppoch's,  Glen- 
garry's, and  Glencoe's.  Your  powers  shall  be  large  enough.  I  hof>e 
the  soldiers  will  not  trouble  the  Government  with  prisoners."  But  his 
hopes  were  disappointed  by  the  readiness  with  which  the  clans  ac- 
cepted the  offers  of  the  Government.  All  submitted  in  good  time  save 
Macdonald  of  Glencoe,  whose  pride  delayed  his  taking  of  the  oath  till 
six  days  after  the  latest  date  fixed  by  the  proclamation.  Foiled  in  his 
larger  hopes  of  destruction,  Dalrymple  seized  eagerly  on  the  pretext 
given  by  Macdonald,  and  an  order  "  for  the  extirpation  of  that  sect  of 
robbers "  was  laid  before  William  and  received  the  royal  signature. 
"  The  work,"  wrote  the  Master  of  Stair  to  Colonel  Hamilton  who 
undertook  it,  "  must  be  secret  and  sudden."  The  troops  were  chosen 
from  among  the  Campbells,  the  deadly  foes  of  the  clansmen  of 
Glencoe,  and  quartered  peacefully  among  the  Macdonalds  for  twelve 
days,  till  all  suspicion  of  their  errand  disappeared.  At  daybreak  they 
fell  on  their  hosts,  and  in  a  few  moments  thirty  of  the  clansfolk 
lay  dead  on  the  snow.  The  rest,  sheltered  by  a  storm,  escaped  to 
the  mountains  to  perish  for  the  most  part  of  cold  and  hunger.  "  The 
only  thing  I  regret,"  said  the  Master  of  Stair  when  the  news  reached 
him,  "is  that  any  got  away."  Whatever  horror  the  Massacre  of 
Glencoe  has  roused  in  later  days,  few  save  Dalrymple  knew  of  it  at  the 
time.  The  peace  of  the  Highlands  enabled  the  work  of  reorganization 
to  go  on  quietly  at  Edinburgh.  In  accepting  the  Claim  of  Right  with 
its  repudiationof  Prelacy,  William  had  in  effect  restored  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  and  its  restoration  was  accompanied  by  the  revival  of  the 
Westminster  Confession  as  a  standard  of  faith,  and  by  the  passing  of 
an  Act  which  abolished  lay  patronage.  Against  the  Toleration  Act 
which  the  King  proposed,  the  Scotch  Parliament  stood  firm.  But  the 
King  was  as  firm  in  his  purpose  as  the  Parliament.  So  long  as  he 
reigned,  William  declared  in  memorable  words,  there  should  be  no 
persecution  for  conscience'  sake.  "  We  never  could  be  of  that  mind 
that  violence  was  suited  to  the  advancing  of  true  religion,  nor  do  we 
intend  that  our  authority  shall  ever  be  a  tool  to  the  irregular  passions 
of  any  party." 

It  was  not  in  Scotland,  however,  but  in  Ireland  that  James  and 
Lewis  hoped  to  arrest  William's  progress.  In  the  middle  of  his  reign, 
when  his  chief  aim  was  to  provide  against  the  renewed  depression  oi 
his  fellow  religionists  at  his  death  by  any  Protestant  successor,  James 
had  resolved  (if  we  may  trust  the  statement  of  the  French  ambassador; 


IX.1 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


687 


to  place  Ireland  in  such  a  position  of  independence  that  she  might  serve 
as  a  refuge  for  his  Catholic  subjects.  Lord  Clarendon  was  dismissed 
from  the  Lord-Lieutenancy  and  succeeded  in  the  charge  of  the  island 
by  the  Catholic  Earl  of  Tyrconnell.  The  new  governor,  who  was 
raised  to  a  dukedom,  went  roughly  to  work.  Every  Englishman  was 
turned  out  of  office.  Every  Judge,  every  Privy  Councillor,  every 
Mayor  and  Alderman  of  a  borough  was  required  to  be  a  Catholic  and 
an  Irishman.  The  Irish  army,  raised  to  the  number  of  fifty  thousand 
men  and  purged  of  its  Protestant  soldiers,  was  entrusted  to  Catholic 
officers.  In  a  few  months  the  English  ascendency  was  overthrown, 
and  the  life  and  fortune  of  the  English  settlers  were  at  the  mercy  of 
the  natives  on  whom  they  had  trampled  since  Cromwell's  day.  The 
King's  flight  and  the  agitation  among  the  native  Irish  at  the  news 
spread  panic  therefore  through  the  island.  Another  massacre  was 
beheved  to  be  at  hand  ;  and  fifteen  hundred  Protestant  families, 
chiefly  from  the  south,  fled  in  terror  over  sea.  The  Protestants  of 
the  north  on  the  other  hand  drew  together  at  Enniskillen  and  London- 
derry, and  prepared  for  self-defence.  The  outbreak  however  was  still 
delayed,  and  for  two  months  Tyrconnell  intrigued  with  William's  Govern- 
ment. But  his  aim  was  simply  to  gain  time.  He  was  in  fact  inviting 
James  to  return  to  Ireland,  and  at  the  news  of  his  coming  with  officers, 
ammunition,  and  a  supply  of  money  provided  by  the  French  King, 
Tyrconnell  threw  off  the  mask.  A  flag  was  hoisted  over  Dublin  Castle, 
with  the  words  embroidered  on  its  folds  "  Now  or  Never."  The  signal 
called  every  Catholic  to  arms.  The  maddened  natives  flung  them- 
selves on  the  plunder  which  their  masters  had  left,  and  in  a  few  weeks 
havoc  was  done,  the  French  envoy  told  Lewis,  which  it  would  take 
years  to  repair.  Meanwhile  James  sailed  from  France  to  Kinsale. 
His  aim  was  to  carry  out  an  invasion  of  England  with  the  fifty  thou- 
sand men  that  Tyrconnell  was  said  to  have  at  his  disposal.  But  his 
hopes  were  ruined  by  the  war  of  races  which  had  broken  out.  To 
Tyrconnell  and  the  Irish  leaders  the  King's  plans  were  utterly  dis- 
tasteful. Their  policy  was  that  of  Ireland  for  the  Irish,  and  the 
first  step  was  to  drive  out  the  Englishmen  who  still  stood  at  bay  in 
Ulster.  Half  of  Tyrconnell's  army  therefore  had  been  sent  against 
Londonderry,  where  the  bulk  of  the  fugitives  found  shelter  behind 
a  weak  wall,  manned  by  a  few  old  guns,  and  destitute  even  of  a  ditch. 
But  the  seven  thousand  desperate  Englishmen  behind  the  wall  made 
up  for  its  weakness.  So  fierce  were  their  sallies,  so  crushing  the 
repulse  of  his  attack,  that  the  King's  general,  Hamilton,  at  last  turned 
the  siege  into  a  blockade.  The  Protestants  died  of  hunger  in  the 
streets,  and  of  the  fever  which  comes  of  hunger,  but  the  cry  of  the 
town  was  still  "No  Surrender."  The  siege  had  lasted  a  hundred 
and  five  days,  and  only  two  days'  food  remained  in  Londonderry, 
when  on  the  28th  of  July  an  English  ship  broke  the  boom  across  the 


688 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CH^. 


river,  and  the  besiegers  sullenly  withdrew.  Their  defeat  was  turned 
into  a  rout  by  the  men  of  Enniskillen,  who  struggled  through  a  bog 
to  charge  an  Irish  force  of  double  their  number  at  Newtown  Butlefj 
and  drove  horse  and  foot  before  them  in  a  panic  which  soon  spread 
through  Hamilton's  whole  army.  The  routed  soldiers  fell  back  on 
Dublin,  where  James  lay  helpless  in  the  hands  of  the  frenzied  Parlia- 
ment which  he  had  summoned.  Every  member  returned  was  an 
Irishman  and  a  Catholic,  and  their  one  aim  was  to  undo  the  succes- 
sive confiscations  which  had  given  the  soil  to  Enghsh  settlers  and  to 
get  back  Ireland  for  the  Irish.  The  Act  of  Settlement  on  which  all 
title  to  property  rested  was  at  once  repealed  in  spite  of  the  King's 
reluctance.  Three  thousand  Protestants  of  name  and  fortune  were 
massed  together  in  the  hugest  Bill  of  Attainder  which  the  world  has 
seen.  In  spite  of  James's  promise  of  religious  freedom,  the  Protestant 
clergy  were  driven  from  their  parsonages.  Fellows  and  scholars  were 
turned  out  of  Trinity  College,  and  the  French  envoy,  the  Count  of 
Avaux,  dared  even  to  propose  that  if  any  Protestant  rising  took  place 
on  the  English  descent,  as  was  expected,  it  should  be  met  by  a  general 
massacre  of  the  Protestants  who  still  lingered  in  the  districts  which 
had  submitted  to  James.  To  his  credit  the  King  shrank  horror-struck 
from  the  proposal.  "  I  cannot  be  so  cruel,"  he  said,  "  as  to  cut  their 
throats  while  they  live  peaceably  under  my  government."  "  Mercy  to 
Protestants,"  was  the  cold  reply,  "  is  cruelty  to  Catholics." 

Through  the  long  agony  of  Londonderry,  through  the  proscription 
and  bloodshed  of  the  new  Irish  rule,  William  was  forced  to  look 
helplessly  on.  The  best  troops  in  the  army  which  had  been  mustered 
at  Hounslow  had  been  sent  with  Marlborough  to  the  Sambre  ;  and  the 
political  embarrassments  which  grew  up  around  the  Government  made 
it  impossible  to  spare  a  man  of  those  who  remained.  The  great  ends 
of  the  Revolution  were  indeed  secured,  even  amidst  the  confusion  and 
intrigue  which  we  shall  have  to  describe,  by  the  common  consent  of  alL 
On  the  great  questions  of  civil  liberty  Whig  and  Tory  were  now  at  one. 
The  Declaration  of  Rights  was  turned  into  the  Bill  of  Rights  by  the 
Convention  which  had  now  become  a  Parhament,  and  the  passing  of 
this  measure  in  1689  restored  to  the  monarchy  the  character  which  it 
had  lost  under  the  Tudors  and  the  Stuarts.  The  right  of  the  people 
through  its  representatives  to  depose  the  King,  to  change  the  order  of 
succession,  and  to  set  on  the  throne  whom  they  would,  was  now 
established.  All  claim  of  Divine  Right,  or  hereditary  right  indepen- 
dent of  the  law,  was  formally  put  an  end  to  by  the  election  of  William 
and  Mary.  Since  their  day  no  English  sovereign  has  been  able  to 
advance  any  claim  to  the  crown  save  a  claim  which  rested  on  a 
particular  clause  in  a  particular  Act  of  Parliament.  William,  Mar}',"" 
and  Anne  were  sovereigns  simply  by  virtue  of  the  Bill  of  Rights. 
George  the  First  and  his  successors  have  been  sovereigns  solely  by 


«.l 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


689 


virtue  of  the  Act  of  Settlement.  An  English  monarch  is  now  as  much 
the  creature  of  an  Act  of  Parliament  as  the  pettiest  tax-gatherer  in  his 
realm.  Nor  was  the  older  character  of  the  kingship  alone  restored. 
The  older  constitution  returned  with  it.  Bitter  experience  had  taught 
England  the  need  of  restoring  to  the  Parliament  its  absolute  power 
over  taxation.  The  grant  of  revenue  for  life  to  the  last  two  kings  had 
been  the  secret  of  their  anti-national  policy,  and  the  first  act  of  the 
new  legislature  was  to  restrict  the  grant  of  the  royal  revenue  to  a  term 
of  four  years.  William  was  bitterly  galled  by  the  provision.  "  The 
gentlemen  of  England  trusted  King  James,"  he  said,  "who  was  an 
enemy  of  their  religion  and  their  laws,  and  they  will  not  trust  me,  by 
whom  their  religion  and  their  laws  have  been  preserved."  But  the 
only  change  brought  about  in  the  Parliament  by  this  burst  of  royal 
anger  was  a  resolve  henceforth  to  make  the  vote  of  supplies  an  annual 
one,  a  resolve  which,  in  spite  of  the  slight  changes  introduced  by  the 
next  Tory  Parhament,  soon  became  an  invariable  rule.  A  change  of 
almost  as  great  importance  established  the  control  of  Parliament  over 
the  army.  The  hatred  to  a  standing  army  which  had  begun  under 
Cromwell  had  only  deepened  under  James  ;  but  with  the  continental 
A'ar  the  existence  of  an  army  was  a  necessity.  As  yet,  however,  it  was 
a  force  which  had  no  legal  existence.  The  soldier  was  simply  an 
ordinary  subject ;  there  were  no  legal  means  of  punishing  strictly 
military  offences  or  of  providing  for  military  discipline  :  and  the 
assumed  power  of  billeting  soldiers  in  private  houses  had  been  taken 
away  by  the  law.  The  difficulty  both  of  Parliament  and  the  army 
was  met  by  the  Mutiny  Act.  The  powers  requisite  for  disciphne  in 
the  army  were  conferred  by  Parliament  on  its  officers,  and  provision 
was  made  for  the  pay  of  the  force,  but  both  pay  and  disciplinary 
powers  were  granted  only  for  a  single  year.  The  Mutiny  Act,  hke 
the  grant  of  supplies,  has  remained  annual  ever  since  the  Revolution  ; 
and  as  it  is  impossible  for  the  State  to  exist  without  supphes,  or  for  the 
army  to  exist  without  discipline  and  pay,  the  annual  assembly  of 
Parliament  has  become  a  matter  of  absolute  necessity.  The  greatest 
constitutional  change  which  our  history  has  witnessed  was  thus 
brought  about  in  an  indirect  but  perfectly  efficient  way.  The  dangers 
which  experience  had  lately  shown  lay  in  the  Parliament  itself  were 
met  with  far  less  skill.  Under  Charles,  England  had  seen  a  Parlia- 
ment, which  had  been  returned  in  a  moment  of  reaction,  maintained 
without  fresh  election  for  eighteen  years.  A  Triennial  Bill,  which 
hmited  the  duration  of  a  Parliament  to  three,  was  passed  with  httle 
opposition,  but  fell  before  the  disHke  and  veto  of  WiUiam.  To 
counteract  the  influence  which  a  king  might  obtain  by  crowding  the 
Commons  with  officials  proved  a  yet  harder  task.  A  Place  Bill,  which 
excluded  all  persons  in  the  employment  of  the  State  from  a  seat  in 
Parliament,  was  defeated,  and  vvisely  defeated,   in  the  Lords.     The 


690 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


modem  course  of  providing  against  a  pressure  from  the  Co.urt  or  the 
administration  by  excluding  all  minor  officials,  but  of  preserving  the 
hold  of  Parliament  over  the  great  officers  of  State  by  admitting  them 
into  its  body,  seems  as  yet  to  have  occurred  to  nobody.  It  is  equally 
strange  that  while  vindicating  its  right  of  Parliamentary  control  over 
the  public  revenue  and  the  army,  the  Bill  of  Rights  should  have  left 
by  its  silence  the  control  of  trade  to  the  Crown.  It  was  only  a  few 
years  later,  in  the  discussions  on  the  charter  granted  to  the  East  India 
Company,  that  the  Houses  silently  claimed  and  obtained  the  right  of 
regulating  English  commerce. 

The  religious  results  of  the  Revolution  were  hardly  less  weighty  than 
the  poHtical.  In  the  common  struggle  against  Catholicism  Churchman 
and  Nonconformist  had  found  themselves,  as  we  have  seen,  strangely 
at  one  ;  and  schemes  of  Comprehension  became  suddenly  popular. 
But  with  the  fall  of  James  the  union  of  the  two  bodies  abruptly 
ceased  :  and  the  establishment  of  a  Presbyterian  Church  in  Scotland, 
together  with  the  "  rabbling  "  of  the  Episcopalian  clergy  in  its  western 
shires,  revived  the  old  bitterness  of  the  clergy  towards  the  dissidents. 
The  Convocation  rejected  the  scheme  of  the  Latitudinarians  for  such 
modifications  of  the  Prayer-book  as  would  render  possible  a  return  of 
the  Nonconformists,  and  a  Comprehension  Bill  which  was  introduced 
into  Parliament  failed  to  pass  in  spite  of  the  King's  strenuous  support. 
William's  attempt  to  partially  admit  Dissenters  to  civil  equality  by  a 
repeal  of  the  Corporation  Act  proved  equally  fruitless  ;  but  the  passing 
of  a  Toleration  Act  in  1689  practically  established  freedom  of  worship. 
Whatever  the  religious  effect  of  the  failure  of  theLatitudinariari  schemes 
may  have  been,  its  political  effect  has  been  of  the  highest  value.  At 
no  time  had  the  Church  been  so  strong  or  so  popular  as  at  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  the  reconciliation  of  the  Nonconformists  would  have  doubled 
its  strength.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  disinclination  to  all  political 
change  which  has  characterized  it  during  the  last  two  hundred  years 
would  have  been  affected  by  such  a  change  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  the 
power  of  opposition  which  it  has  wielded  would  have  been  enormously 
increased.  As  it  was,  the  Toleration  Act  estabhshed  a  group  of 
religious  bodies  whose  religious  opposition  to  the  Church  forced  them 
to  support  the  measures  of  progress  which  the  Church  opposed.  With 
religious  forces  on  the  one  side  and  on  the  other  England  has  es- 
caped the  great  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  nations  where  the  cause 
of  religion  has  become  identified  with  that  of  political  reaction.  A 
secession  from  within  its  own  ranks  weakened  the  Church  still  more. 
The  doctrine  of  Divine  Right  had  a  strong  hold  on  the  body  of  the 
clergy,  though  they  had  been  driven  from  their  other  favourite  doctrine 
of  passive  obedience,  and  the  requirement  of  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  new  sovereigns  from  all  persons  in  public  functions  was  resented  as 
an  intolerable  wrong  by  almost  every  parson.     Sancroft,  the  Arch- 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


691 


bishop  of  Canterbury,  Ayith  a  few  prelates  and  a  large  number  of  the 
higher  clergy,  absolutely  refused  the  oath,  treated  all  who  took  it  as 
schismatics,  and  on  their  deprivation  by  Act  of  Parliament  regarded 
themselves  and  their  adherents,  who  were  known  as  Nonjurors,  as  the 
only  members  of  the  true  Church  of  England.  The  bulk  of  the  clergy 
bowed  to  necessity,  but  their  bitterness  against  the  new  Government 
was  fanned  into  a  flame  by  the  religious  policy  announced  in  this 
assertion  of  the  supremacy  of  Parliament  over  the  Church,  and  the 
deposition  of  bishops  by  an  act  of  the  legislature.  The  new  prelates, 
such  as  Tillotson,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  Burnet,  Bishop 
of  Salisbury,  were  men  of  learning  and  piety  ;  but  it  was  only  among 
Whigs  and  Latitudinarians  that  William  and  his  successors  could 
find  friends  among  the  clergy,  and  it  was  mainly  to  these  that  they 
were  driven  to  entrust  the  higher  offices  of  the  Church.  The  result 
was  a  severance  between  the  higher  dignitaries  and  the  mass  of  the 
clergy  which  broke  the  strength  of  the  Church  ;  and  till  the  time  of 
George  the  Third  its  fiercest  strife  was  waged  within  its  own  ranks. 
But  the  resentment  at  the  measure  which  brought  this  strife  about 
already  added  to  the  difficulties  which  William  had  to  encounter. 

Yet  greater  difficulties  arose  from  the  temper  of  his  Parliament.  In 
the  Commons  the  bulk  of  the  members  were  Whigs,  and  their  first 
aim  was  to  redress  the  wrongs  which  the  Whig  party  had  suffered 
during  the  last  two  reigns.  The  attainder  of  Lord  Russell  was  reversed. 
The  judgements  against  Sidney,  Cornish,  and  Alice  Lisle  were  annulled. 
In  spite  of  the  opinion  of  the  judges  that  the  sentence  on  Titus  Oates 
had  been  against  law,  the  Lords  refused  to  reverse  it,  but  even  Oates 
received  a  pardon  and  a  pension.  The  Whigs  however  wanted  not 
merely  the  redress  of  wrongs  but  the  punishment  of  the  wrong-doers. 
Whig  and  Tory  had  been  united,  indeed,  by  the  tyranny  of  James  ; 
both  parties  had  shared  in  the  Revolution,  and  William  had  striven  to 
prolong  their  union  by  joining  the  leaders  of  both  in  his  first  Ministry. 
He  named  the  Tory  Earl  of  Danby  Lord  President,  made  the  Whig 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury  Secretary  of  State,  and  ^ave  the  Privy  Seal  to 
Lord  Halifax,  a  trimmer  between  the  one  party  and  the  other.  But 
save  in  a  moment  of  common  oppression  or  common  danger  union  was 
impossible.  The  Whigs  clamoured  for  the  punishment  of  Tories  who 
had  joined  in  the  illegal  acts  of  Charles  and  of  James,  and  refused 
to  pass  the  Bill  of  General  Indemnity  which  William  laid  before  them. 
William  on  the  other  hand  was  resolved  that  no  bloodshed  or  pro- 
scription should  follow  the  revolution  which  had  placed  him  on  the 
throne.  His  temper  was  averse  from  persecution  ;  he  had  no  great  love 
for  either  of  the  battling  parties  ;  and  above  all  he  saw  that  internal 
strife  would  be  fatal  to  the  effective  prosecution  of  the  war.  While 
the  cares  of  his  new  throne  were  chaining  him  to  England,  the  con- 
federacy of  which  he  was  the  guiding  spirit  was  proving  too  slow  and 


692 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


too  loosely  compacted  to  cope  with  the  swift  and  resolute  movements 
of  France.  The  armies  of  Lewis  had  fallen  back  within  their  own 
borders,  but  only  to  turn  fiercely  at  bay.  Even  the  junction  of  the 
English  and  Dutch  fleets  failed  to  assure  them  the  mastery  of  the 
seas.  The  English  navy  was  paralyzed  by  the  corruption  which  pre- 
vailed in  the  public  service,  as  well  as  by  the  sloth  and  incapacity  of 
its  commander.  The  services  of  Admiral  Herbert  at  the  Revolution 
had  been  rewarded  by  the  Earldom  of  Torrington  and  the  command 
of  the  fleet  ;  but  his  indolence  suffered  the  seas  to  be  swept  by  French 
privateers,  and  his  want  of  seamanship  was  shown  in  an  indecisive 
engagement  with  a  French  squadron  in  Bantry  Bay.  Meanwhile 
Lewis  was  straining  every  nerve  to  win  the  command  of  the  Channel ; 
the  French  dockyards  were  turning  out  ship  after  ship,  and  the 
galleys  of  the  Mediterranean  fleet  were  brought  round  to  reinforce  the 
fleet  at  Brest.  A  French  victory  off"  the  English  coast  would  have 
brought  serious  political  danger,  for  the  reaction  of  popular  feeling 
which  had  begun  in  favour  of  James  had  been  increased  by  the  pres- 
sure of  the  war,  by  the  taxation,  by  the  expulsion  of  the  Non-jurors 
and  the  discontent  of  the  clergy,  by  the  panic  of  the  Tories  at  the 
spirit  of  vengeance  which  broke  out  among  the  triumphant  Whigs,  and 
above  all  by  the  presence  of  James  in  Ireland.  A  new  party,  that  of 
the  Jacobites  or  adherents  of  King  James,  was  just  forming  ;  and  it 
was  feared  that  a  Jacobite  rising  would  follow  the  appearance  of  a 
French  fleet  on  the  coast.  In  such  a  state  of  affairs  William  judged 
rightly  that  to  yield  to  the  Whig  thirst  for  vengeance  would  have 
been  to  ruin  his  cause.  He  dissolved  the  Parliament,  which  had 
refused  to  pass  a  Bill  of  Indemnity  for  all  political  offences,  and  called 
a  new  one  to  meet  in  March.  The  result  of  the  election  proved  that 
he  had  only  expressed  the  general  temper  of  the  nation.  The 
boroughs  had  been  alienated  from  the  Whigs  by  their  refusal  to 
pass  the  Indemnity,  and  their  attempts  to  secure  the  Corporations 
for  their  own  party  ;  while  in  the  counties  parson  after  parson  led  his 
flock  to  the  poll  against  the  Whigs.  In  the  new  Parliament  the  bulk 
of  the  members  proved  Tories.  William  accepted  the  resignation  of 
the  more  violent  Whigs  among  his  councillors,  and  placed  Danby  at 
the  head  of  affairs.  In  May  the  Houses  gave  their  assent  to  the  Act 
of  Grace.  The  King's  aim  in  this  sudden  change  of  fnant  was  not  only 
to  meet  the  change  in  the  national  spirit,  but  to  secure  a  momentary 
lull  in  English  faction  which  would  suffer  him  to  strike  at  the  rebellion 
in  Ireland.  While  James  was  King  in  Dublin  it  was  hopeless  to  crush 
treason  at  home ;  and  so  urgent  was  the  danger,  so  precious  every 
moment  in  the  present  juncture  of  affairs,  that  William  could  trust  no 
one  to  bring  the  work  as  sharply  to  an  end  as  was  needful  save  himself. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  1689  the  Duke  of  Schomberg,  an  exiled 
Huguenot  who  had  followed  William  to  England,  had  been  sent  with 


fX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


693 


a  small  force  to  Ulster,  but  his  landing  had  only  roused  Ireland  to  a 
fresh  enthusiasm.  The  ranks  of  the  Irish  army  were  filled  up  at  once, 
and  James  was  able  to  face  the  Duke  at  Droghedawith  a  force  double 
that  of  his  opponent.  Schomberg,  whose  men  were  all  raw  recruits 
whom  it  was  hardly  possible  to  trust  at  such  odds  in  the  field,  en- 
trenched himself  at  Dundalk,  in  a  camp  where  pestilence  soon  swept 
off  half  his  men,  till  winter  parted  the  two  armies.  During  the  next 
six  months  James,  whose  treasury  was  utterly  exhausted,  strove  to  fill 
it  by  a  coinage  of  brass  money,  while  his  soldiers  subsisted  by  sheer 
plunder.  William  meanwhile  was  toiling  hard  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Channel  to  bring  the  Irish  war  to  an  end.  Schomberg  was 
strengthened  during  the  winter  with  men  and  stores,  and  when  the 
spring  came  his  force  reached  thirty  thousand  men.  Lewis  too  felt 
the  importance  of  the  coming  struggle  ;  and  seven  thousand  picked 
Frenchmen,  under  the  Count  of  Lauzun,  were  despatched  to  reinforce 
the  army  of  James.  They  had  hardly  arrived  when  William  himself 
landed  at  Carrickfergus,and  pushed  rapidly  to  the  south.  His  columns 
soon  caught  sight  of  the  Irish  forces,  posted  strongly  behind  the  Boyne. 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  gentlemen,"  William  cried  with  a  burst  of 
delight  ;  "  and  if  you  escape  me  now  the  fault  will  be  mine."  Early 
next  morning  the  whole  English  army  plunged  into  the  river.  The 
Irish  foot  broke  in  a  sudden  panic,  but  the  horse  made  so  gallant  a 
stand  that  Schomberg  fell  in  repulsing  its  charge,  and  for  a  time  the 
English  centre  was  held  in  check.  With  the  arrival  of  William,  how- 
ever, at  the  head  of  the  left  wing  all  was  over.  James,  who  had 
throughbut  been  striving  to  secure  the  withdrawal  of  his  troops  rather 
than  frankly  to  meet  William's  onset,  forsook  his  troops  as  they  fell 
back  in  retreat  upon  Dublin,  and  took  ship  at  Kinsale  for  France. 
But  though  the  beaten  army  was  forced  by  William's  pursuit  to 
abandon  the  capital,  it  was  still  resolute  to  fight.  The  incapacity  of 
the  Stuart  sovereign  moved  the  scorn  even  of  his  followers.  "  Change 
kings  with  us,"  an  Irish  officer  replied  to  an  Englishman  who  taunted 
him  with  the  panic  of  the  Boyne,  "  change  kings  with  us  and  we  will 
fight  you  again."  They  did  better  in  fighting  without  a  king.  The 
French,  indeed,  withdrew  scornfully  from  the  routed  army  as  it  stood 
at  bay  beneath  the  walls  of  Limerick.  "Do  you  call  these  ramparts  ?" 
sneered  Lauzun  :  "the  Enghsh  will  need  no  cannon  ;  they  may  batter 
them  down  with  roasted  apples."  But  twenty  thousand  men  remained 
with  Sarsfield,  a  brave  and  skilful  officer  who  had  seen  service  in 
England  and  abroad  ;  and  his  daring  surprise  of  the  English  ammu- 
lition  train,  his  repulse  of  a  desperate  attempt  to  storm  the  town,  and 
the  approach  of  the  winter,  forced  William  to  raise  the  siege.  The 
course  of  the  war  abroad  recalled  him  to  England,  and  he  left  his 
work  to  one  who  was  quietly  proving  himself  a  master  in  the  art  of 
war.     Churchill,  now  Earl  of  Marlborough,  had  been  recalled  from 


e>94 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Flanders  to  command  a  division  which  landed  in  the  south  of  Ireland, 
Only  a  few  days  remained  before  the  operations  were  interrupted  by 
the  coming  of  winter,  but  the  few  days  were  turned  to  good  account. 
Cork,  with  five  thousand  men  behind  its  walls,  was  taken  in  forty-eight 
hours.  Kinsale  a  few  days  later  shared  the  fate  of  Cork.  Winter 
indeed  left  Connaught  and  the  greater  part  of  Munster  in  Irish  hands  ; 
the  French  force  remained  untouched, and  the  coming  of  a  new  French 
general,  St.  Ruth,  with  arms  and  supplies  encouraged  the  insurgents. 
But  the  summer  of  1691  had  hardly  opened  when  Ginkell,  the  new 
English  general,  by  his  seizure  of  Athlone  forced  on  a  battle  with  the 
combined  French  and  Irish  forces  at  Aughrim,  in  which  St.  Ruth  fell 
on  the  field  and  his  army  was  utterly  broken.  The  defeat  left  Limerick 
alone  in  its  revolt,  and  even  Sarsfield  bowed  to  the  necessity  of  a 
surrender.  Two  treaties  were  drawn  up  between  the  Irish  and  English 
generals.  By  the  first  it  was  stipulated  that  the  Catholics  of  Ireland 
should  enjoy  such  privileges  in  the  exercise  of  their  religion  as  were 
consistent  with  law,  or  as  they  had  enjoyed  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Second.  The  Crown  pledged  itself  also  to  summon  a  Parliament  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  to  endeavour  to  procure  to  the  good  Roman 
Catholics  security  "from  any  disturbance  upon  the  account  of  the  said 
religion."  By  the  military  treaty  those  of  Sarsfield's  soldiers  who  would 
were  suffered  to  follow  him  to  France  ;  and  ten  thousand  men,  the 
whole  of  his  force,  chose  exile  rather  than  life  in  a  land  where  all  hope 
of  national  freedom  was  lost.  When  the  wild  cry  of  the  women  who 
stood  watching  their  departure  was  hushed,  the  silence  of  death  settled 
down  upon  Ireland.  For  a  hundred  years  the  country  remained  at 
peace,  but  the  peace  was  a  peace  of  despair.  The  most  terrible  legal 
tyranny  under  which  a  nation  has  ever  groaned  avenged  the  rising 
under  Tyrconnell.  The  conquered  people,  in  Swift's  bitter  words  of 
contempt,  became  "hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water"  to  their 
conquerors.  Though  local  risings  of  these  serfs  perpetually  spread 
terror  among  the  English  settlers,  all  dream  of  a  national  revolt  passed 
away  ;  and  till  the  eve  of  the  French  Revolution  Ireland  ceased  to  be 
a  source  of  political  danger  to  England. 

Short  as  the  struggle  of  Ireland  had  been,  it  had  served  Lewis  well, 
for  while  William  was  busy  at  the  Boyne  a  series  of  brilliant  successes 
was  restoring  the  fortunes  of  France.  In  Flanders  the  Duke  of  Luxem- 
bourg won  the  victory  of  Fleurus.  In  Italy  Marshal  Catinat»defeated 
the  Duke  of  Savoy.  A  success  of  even  greater  moment,  the  last  victory 
which  France  was  fated  to  win  at  sea,  placed  for  an  instant  the  very 
throne  of  William  in  peril.  William  never  showed  a  cooler  courage 
than  in  quitting  England  to  fight  James  in  Ireland  at  a  moment 
when  the  Jacobites  were  only  looking  for  the  appearance  of  a  French 
fleet  on  the  coast  to  rise  in  revolt.  He  was  hardly  on  his  way  in 
fact  when  Tourville,  the  French  admiral,  put  to  sea  with  strict  orders 


rx. 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


695 


to  fight.  He  was  met  by  the  Enghsh  and  Dutch  fleet  at  Beachy  Head, 
and  the  Dutch  division  at  once  engaged.  Though  utterly  out- 
numbered, it  fought  stubbornly  in  hope  of  Herbert's  aid  ;  but  Herbert, 
whether  from  cowardice  or  treason,  looked  idly  on  while  his  allies  were 
crushed,  and  withdrew  at  nightfall  to  seek  shelter  in  the  Thames.  The 
danger  'was  as  great  as  the  shame,  for  Tourville's  victory  left  him 
master  of  the  Channel,  and  his  presence  off  the  coast  of  Devon  invited 
the  Jacobites  to  revolt.  But  whatever  the  discontent  of  Tories  and 
Non-jurors  against  William  might  be,  all  signs  of  it  vanished  with  the 
landing  of  the  French.  The  burning  of  Teignmouth  by  Tourville's 
sailors  called  the  whole  coast  to  arms  ;  and  the  news  of  the  Boyne 
put  an  end  to  all  dreams  of  a  rising  in  favour  of  James.  The  natural 
reaction  against  a  cause  which  looked  for  foreign  aid  gave  a  new 
strength  for  the  moment  to  William  in  England  ;  but  ill  luck  still 
hung  around  the  Grand  Alliance.  So  urgent  was  the  need  for  his 
presence  abroad  that  William  left,  as  we  have  seen,  his  work  in  Ireland 
undone,  and  crossed  in  the  spring  of  1691  to  Flanders.  It  was  the 
first  time  since  the  days  of  Henry  the  Eighth  that  an  English  king 
had  appeared  on  the  Continent  at  the  head  of  an  English  army. 
But  the  slowness  of  the  allies  again  baffled  William's  hopes.  He  was 
forced  to  look  on  with  a  small  army  while  a  hundred  thousand 
Frenchmen  closed  suddenly  around  Mons,  the  strongest  fortress  of  the 
Netherlands,  and  made  themselves  masters  of  it  in  the  presence  of 
Lewis.  The  humiliation  was  great,  and  for  the  moment  all  trust  in 
William's  fortune  faded  away.  In  England  the  blow  was  felt  more 
heavily  than  elsewhere.  The  Jacobite  hopes  which  had  been  crushed 
by  the  indignation  at  Tourville's  descent  woke  up  to  a  fresh  life.  Leading 
Tories,  such  as  Lord  Clarendon  and  Lord  Dartmouth,  opened  com- 
munications with  James ;  and  some  of  the  leading  Whigs,  with  the 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury  at  their  head,  angered  at  what  they  regarded  as 
William's  ingratitude,  followed  them  in  their  course.  In  Lord  Marl- 
borough's mind  the  state  of  affairs  raised  hopes  of  a  double  treason. 
His  design  was  to  bring  about  a  revolt  which  would  drive  William 
from  the  throne  without  replacing  James,  and  give  the  crown  to 
his  daughter  Anne,  whose  affection  for  Marlborough's  wife  would 
place  the  real  government  of  England  in  his  hands.  A  yet  greater 
danger  lay  in  the  treason  of  Admiral  Russell,  who  had  succeeded 
Torrington  in  command  of  the  fleet.  Russell's  defection  would  have 
removed  the  one  obstacle  to  a  new  attempt  which  James  was  resolved 
to  make  for  the  recovery  of  his  throne,  and  which  Lewis  had  been 
brought  to  support.  In  the  beginning  of  1692  an  army  of  thirty 
thousand  troops  was  quartered  in  Normandy  in  readiness  for  a 
descent  on  the  English  coast.  Transports  were  provided  for  their 
passage,  and  Tourville  was  ordered  to  cover  it  with  the  French  fleet  at 
Brest.     Though  Russell  had  twice  as  many  ships  as  his  opponent,  the 


696 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


belief  in  his  purpose  of  betraying  William's  cause  was  so  strong  that 
Lewis  ordered  Tourville  to  engage  the  allied  fleets  at  any  disadvan- 
tage. But  whatever  Russell's  intrigues  may  have  meant,  he  was  no 
Herbert.  "  Do  not  think  I  will  let  the  French  triumph  over  us  in  our 
own  seas,"  he  warned  his  Jacobite  correspondents.  "  If  I  meet  them 
I  will  fight  them,  even  though  King  James  were  on  board."  When  the 
alHed  fleets  met  the  French  ofTtheheic^hts  of  Barfleur.  his  fierce  attack 
proved  Russell  true  to  his  word.  Tourville's  fifty  vessels  were  no 
match  for  the  ninety  ships  of  the  allies,  and  after  five  hours  of  a  brave 
struggle  the  French  were  forced  to  fly  along  the  rocky  coast  of  the 
Cotentin.  Twenty-two  of  their  vessels  reached  St.  Malo  ;  thirteen 
anchored  with  Tourville  in  the  bays  of  Cherbourg  and  La  Hogue ;  but 
their  pursuers  were  soon  upon  them,  and  in  a  bold  attack  the  English 
boats  burnt  ship  after  ship  under  the  eyes  of  the  French  army.  All 
dread  of  the  invasion  was  at  once  at  an  end  ;  and  the  throne  of  William 
was  secured  by  the  detection  and  suppression  of  the  Jacobite  conspiracy 
at  home  which  the  invasion  was  intended  to  support.  But  the  over- 
throw of  the  Jacobite  hopes  was  the  least  result  of  the  victory  of 
La  Hogue.  France  ceased  from  that  moment  to  exist  as  a  great  naval 
power  ;  for  though  her  fleet  was  soon  recruited  to  its  former  strength, 
the  confidence  of  her  sailors  was  lost,  and  not  even  Tourville  ventured 
again  to  tempt  in  battle  the  fortune  of  the  seas.  A  new  hope,  too, 
dawned  on  the  Grand  Alliance.  The  spell  of  French  triumph  was 
broken.  Namur  indeed  surrendered  to  Lewis,  and  the  Duke  of 
Luxembourg  maintained  the  glory  of  the  French  arms  by  a  victory 
over  William  at  Steinkirk.  But  the  battle  was  a  useless  butchery  in 
which  the  conquerors  lost  as  many  men  as  the  conquered.  France 
felt  herself  disheartened  and  exhausted  by  the  vastness  of  her  efforts. 
The  public  misery  was  extreme.  "  The  country,"  F^nelon  wrote  frankly 
to  Lewis,  "is  a  vast  hospital."  In  1693  the  campaign  of  Lewis  in 
the  Netherlands  proved  a  fruitless  one,  and  Luxembourg  was  hardly 
able  to  beat  off  the  fierce  attack  of  William  at  Neerwinden.  For  the 
first  time  in  his  long  career  of  prosperity  Lewis  bent  his  pride  to  seek 
peace  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  conquests,  and  though  the  effort  was 
vain  it  told  that  the  daring  hopes  of  French  ambition  were  at  an 
end,  and  that  the  work  of  the  Grand  Alliance  was  practically  done. 

In  outer  seeming,  the  Revolution  of  1688  had  only  transferred  the 
sovereignty  over  England  from  James  to  William  and  Mary.  In 
actual  fact  it  had  given  a  powerful  and  decisive  impulse  to  the 
great  constitutional  progress  which  was  transferring  the  sovereignty 
from  the  King  to  the  House  of  Commons.  From  the  moment  when 
its  sole  right  to  tax  the  nation  was  established  by  the  Bill  of  Rights, 
and  when  its  own  resolve  settled  the  practice  of  granting  none 
but  annual  supplies  to  the  Crown,  the  House  of  Commons  became 
the  supreme  power  in  the  State.     It  was  impossible  permanently  to 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


697 


suspend  its  sittings,  or  in  the  long  run  to  oppose  its  will,  when  either 
course  must  end  in  leaving  the  Government  penniless,  in  breaking  up 
the  army  and  navy,  and  in  suspending  the  public  service.  But  though 
the  constitutional  change  was  complete,  the  machinery  of  government 
was  far  from  having  adapted  itself  to  the  new  conditions  of  political 
life  which  such  a  change  brought  about.  However  powerful  the  will 
of  the  House  of  Commons  might  be,  it  had  no  means  of  bringing 
its  will  directly  to  bear  upon  the  conduct  of  public  affairs.  The 
Ministers  who  had  charge  of  them  were  not  its  servants,  but  the 
servants  of  the  Crown ;  it  was  from  the  King  that  they  looked  for 
direction,  and  to  the  King  that  they  held  themselves  responsible.  By 
impeachment  or  more  indirect  means  the  Commons  could  force  a 
King  to  remove  a  Minister  who  contradicted  their  will ;  but  they  had  no 
constitutional  power  to  replace  the  fallen  statesman  by  a  Minister  who 
would  carry  out  their  will.  The  result  was  the  growth  of  a  temper  in 
the  Lower  House  which  drove  William  and  his  Ministers  to  despair. 
It  became  as  corrupt,  as  jealous  of  power,  as  fickle  in  its  resolves  and 
factious  in  spirit,  as  bodies  always  become  whose  consciousness  of  the 
possession  of  power  is  untempered  by  a  corresponding  consciousness 
of  the  practical  difficulties  or  the  moral  responsibilities  of  the  power 
which  they  possess.  It  grumbled  at  the  ill-success  of  the  war,  at  the 
suffering  of  the  merchants,  at  the  discontent  of  the  Churchmen  ;  and 
it  blamed  the  Crown  and  its  Ministers  for  all  at  which  it  grumbled. 
But  it  was  hard  to  find  out  what  policy  or  measures  it  would  have 
preferred.  Its  mood  changed,  as  William  bitterly  complained,  with 
every  hour.  It  was,  in  fact,  without  the  guidance  of  recognized  leaders, 
without  adequate  information,  and  destitute  of  that  organization  out 
of  which  alone  a  definite  pohcy  can  come.  Nothing  better  proves  the 
inborn  political  capacity  of  the  English  mind  than  that  it  should  at 
once  have  found  a  simple  and  effective  solution  of  such  a  difficulty  as 
this.  The  credit  of  the  solution  belongs  to  a  man  whose  political 
character  was  of  the  lowest  type.  Robert,  Earl  of  Sunderland,  had 
been  a  Minister  in  the  later  days  of  Charles  the  Second  ;  and  he  had 
remained  Miniker  through  almost  all  the  reign  of  James.  He  had 
held  office  at  last  only  by  compliance  with  the  worst  tyranny  of  his 
master,  and  by  a  feigned  conversion  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  ; 
but  the  ruin  of  James  was  no  sooner  certain  than  he  had  secured 
pardon  and  protection  from  William  by  the  betrayal  of  the  master  to 
whom  he  had  sacrificed  his  conscience  and  his  honour.  Since  the  Revo- 
lution Sunderland  had  striven  only  to  escape  public  observation  in 
a  country  retirement,  but  at  this  crisis  he  came  secretly  forward  to 
bring  his  unequalled  sagacity  to  the  aid  of  the  King.  His  counsel  was 
to  recognize  practically  the  new  power  of  the  Commons  by  choosing 
the  Ministers  of  the  Crown  exclusively  from  among  the  members  of 
the  party  which  was   strongest   in   the    Lower   House.     As  yet  no 


698 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Ministry  in  the  modem  sense  of  the  term  had  existed.  Each  great 
officer  of  state,  Treasurer  or  Secretary  or  Lord  Privy  Seal,  had  in 
theory  been  independent  of  his  fellow-officers  ;  each  was  the  "  King's 
servant "  and  responsible  for  the  discharge  of  his  special  duties  to  the 
King  alone.  From  time  to  time  one  Minister,  like  Clarendon,  might 
tower  above  the  rest  and  give  a  general  direction  to  the  whole  course 
of  government,  but  the  predominance  was  merely  personal  and  never 
permanent ;  and  even  in  such  a  case  there  were  colleagues  who  were 
ready  to  oppose  or  even  impeach  the  statesman  who  overshadowed 
them.  It  was  common  for  a  King  to  choose  or  dismiss  a  single 
Minister  without  any  communication  with  the  rest ;  and  so  far  was  even 
William  from  aiming  at  ministerial  unity,  that  he  had  striven  to  repro- 
duce in  the  Cabinet  itself  the  balance  of  parties  which  prevailed  outside 
it.  Sunderland's  plan  aimed  at  replacing  these  independent  Ministers 
by  a  homogeneous  Ministry,  chosen  from  the  same  party,  represent- 
ing the  same  sentiments,  and  bound  together  for  common  action 
by  a  sense  of  responsibility  and  loyalty  to  the  party  to  which  it 
belonged.  Not  only  would  such  a  plan  secure  a  unity  of  adminis- 
tration which  had  been  unknown  till  then,  but  it  gave  an  organiza- 
tion to  the  House  of  Commons  which  it  had  never  had  before.  The 
Ministers  who  were  representatives  of  the  majority  of  its  members 
became  the  natural  leaders  of  the  House.  Small  factions  were  drawn 
together  into  the  two  great  parties  which  supported  or  opposed  the 
Ministry  of  the  Crown.  Above  all  it  brought  about  in  the  simplest 
possible  way  the  solution  of  the  problem  which  had  so  long  vexed  both 
King  and  Commons.  The  new  Ministers  ceased  in  all  but  name  to 
be  the  King's  servants.  They  became  simply  an  executive  Committee 
representing  the  will  of  the  majority  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
capable  of  being  easily  set  aside  by  it  and  replaced  by  a  similar 
Committee  whenever  the  balance  of  power  shifted  from  one  side  of  the 
House  to  the  other. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  that  system  of  representative  government 
which  has  gone  on  from  Sunderland's  day  to  our  own.  But  though 
William  showed  his  own  political  genius  in  understanding  and  adopting 
Sunderland's  plan,  it  was  only  slowly  and  tentatively  that  he  ventured 
to  carry  it  out  in  practice.  In  spite  of  the  temporary  reaction  Sunder- 
land believed  that  the  balance  of  political  power  was  really  on  the 
side  of  the  Whigs.  Not  only  were  they  the  natural  representatives 
of  the  principles  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  supporters  of  the  war,  but 
they  stood  far  above  their  opponents  in  parliamentary  and  adminis- 
trative talent.  At  their  head  stood  a  group  of  statesmen,  whose  close 
union  in  thought  and  action  gained  them  the  name  of  the  Junto. 
Russell,  as  yet  the  most  prominent  of  these,  was  the  victor  of  La 
Hogue ;  John  Somers  was  an  advocate  who  had  sprung  into  fame  by 
his  defence  of  the  Seven  Bishops  ;  Lord  Wharton  was  known  as  the 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


699 


most  dexterous  and  unscrupulous  of  party  managers  ;  and  Montague 
was  fast  making  a  reputation  as  the  ablest  of  English  financiers.  In 
spite  of  such  considerations,  however,  it  is  doubtful  whether  William 
would  have  thrown  himself  into  the  hands  of  a  purely  Whig  Ministry 
but  for  the  attitude  which  the  Tories  took  towards  the  war.  Ex- 
hausted as  France  was  the  war  still  languished,  and  the  allies  failed 
to  win  a  single  victory.  Meanwhile  English  trade  was  all  but  ruined 
by  the  French  privateers,  and  the  nation  stood  aghast  at  the  growth 
ojf  taxation.  The  Tories,  always  cold  in  their  support  of  the  Grand 
Alliance,  now  became  eager  for  peace  The  Whigs,  on  the  other 
hand,  remained  resolute  in  their  support  of  the  war.  William,  in 
whose  mind  the  contest  with  France  was  the  first  object,  was  thus 
driven  slowly  to  follow  Sunderland's  advice.  Montague  had  already 
met  the  strain  of  the  war  by  bringing  forward  a  plan  which  had  been 
previously  suggested  by  a  Scotchman,  William  Paterson,  for  the 
creation  of  a  National  Bank.  While  serving  as  an  ordinary  bank  for 
the  supply  of  capital,  the  Bank  of  England,  as  the  new  institution  was 
called,  was  in  reality  an  instrument  for  procuring  loans  from  the 
people  at  large  by  the  formal  pledge  of  the  State  to  repay  the  money 
advanced  on  the  demand  of  the  lender.  A  loan  of  ^1,200,000  was 
thrown  open  to  public  subscription ;  and  the  subscribers  to  it  were 
formed  into  a  chartered  company  in  whose  hands  the  negotiations  of 
all  after  loans  was  placed.  In  ten  days  the  list  of  subscribers  was  full. 
The  discovery  of  the  resources  afforded  by  the  national  wealth  re- 
vealed a  fresh  source  of  power  ;  and  the  rapid  growth  of  the  National 
Debt,  as  the  mass  of  these  loans  to  the  State  came  to  be  called,  gave 
a  new  security  against  the  return  of  the  Stuarts,  whose  first  work 
would  have  been  the  repudiation  of  the  claims  of  the  lenders  or 
"  fundholders."  The  evidence  of  the  public  credit  gave  strength  to 
William  abroad,  while  at  home  a  new  unity  of  action  followed  the 
change  which  Sunderland  counselled  and  which  was  quietly  carried 
out.  One  by  one  the  Tory  Ministers,  already  weakened  by  Montague's 
success,  were  replaced  by  members  of  the  Junto.  Russell  wenj:  to  the 
Admiralty  ;  Somers  was  named  Lord  Keeper  ;  Shrewsbury,  Secretary 
of  State  ;  Montague,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer.  Even  before  this 
change  was  completed  its  effect  was  felt.  The  House  of  Commons 
took  a  new  tone.  The  Whig  majority  of  its  members,  united  and  dis- 
ciplined, moved  quietly  under  the  direction  of  their  natural  leaders, 
the  Whig  Ministers  of  the  Crown.  It  was  this  which  enablecf  William 
to  face  the  shock  which  was  given  to  his  position  by  the  death  of 
Queen  Mary.  The  renewed  attac'.:s  of  the  Tories  showed  what  fresh 
hopes  had  been  raised  by  William's  lonely  position.  The  Parliament, 
however,  whom  the  King  had  just  conciliated  by  assenting  at  last  to 
the  Triennial  Bill,  v/ent  steadily  with  the  Ministry ;  and  its  fidelity  was 
rewarded  by  triumph  abroad.     In  1695  the  Alliance  succeeded  for  the 


700 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  VIII, 

The  Grand 
Alliance 

1689 

TO 

1697 


1696 


Peaoe  of 
Ryswlck 


1697 


first  time  in  winning  a  great  triumph  over  France  in  the  capture  of 
Namur.  The  King  skilfully  took  advantage  of  his  victory  to  call  a 
new  Parliament,  and  its  members  at  once  showed  their  temper  by  a 
vigorous  support  of  the  war.  The  Houses,  indeed,  were  no  mere  tools 
in  William's  hands.  They  forced  him  to  resume  prodigal  grants  of 
lands  made  to  his  Dutch  favourites,  and  to  remove  his  ministers  in 
Scotland  who  had  aided  in  a  wild  project  for  a  Scotch  colony  on  the 
Isthmus  of  Darien.  They  claimed  a  right  to  name  members  of  the 
new  Board  of  Trade,  established  for  the  regulation  of  commercial 
matters.  They  rejected  a  proposal,  never  henceforth  to  be  revived, 
for  a  censorship  of  the  Press.  But  there  was  no  factious  opposition. 
So  strong  was  the  ministry  that  Montague  was  enabled  to  face  the 
general  distress  that  was  caused  for  the  moment  by  a  reform  of  the 
currency,  which  had  been  reduced  by  clipping  to  far  less  than  its 
nominal  value  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  financial  embarrassments  created 
by  the  reform,  William  was  able  to  hold  the  French  at  bay. 

But  the  war  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close.  Lewis  was  simply  fighting 
to  secure  more  favourable  terms,  and  William,  though  he  held  that 
"the  only  way  of  treating  with  France  is  with  our  swords  in  our 
hands,"  was  almost  as  eager  as  Lewis  for  a  peace.  The  defection  of 
Savoy  made  it  impossible  to  carry  out  the  original  aim  of  the  Alliance, 
that  of  forcing  France  back  to  its  position  at  the  Treaty  of  West- 
phalia, and  the  question  of  the  Spanish  succession  was  drawing  closer 
every  day.  The  obstacles  which  were  thrown  in  the  way  of  an  ac- 
commodation by  Spain  and  the  Empire  were  set  aside  in  a  private 
negotiation  between  William  and  Lewis,  and  the  year  1697  saw  the 
conclusion  of  the  Peace  of  Ryswick.  In  spite  of  failure  and  defeat  in 
the  field  William's  policy  had  won.  The  victories  of  France  remained 
barren  in  the  face  of  a  United  Europe ;  and  her  exhaustion  forced 
her,  for  the  first  time  since  Richelieu's  day,  to  consent  to  a  disadvan- 
tageous peace.  On  the  side  of  the  Empire  France  withdrew  from 
every  annexation  save  that  of  Strassburg  which  she  had  made  since 
the  Treaty  of  Nimeguen,  and  Strassburg  would  have  been  restored 
but  for  the  unhappy  delays  of  the  German  negotiators.  To  Spain 
Lewis  restored  Luxemburg  and  all  the  conquests  he  had  made  during 
the  war  in  the  Netherlands.  The  Duke  of  Lorraine  was  replaced 
in  his  dominions.  A  far  more  important  provision  of  the  peace  pledged 
Lewis  to  an  abandonment  of  the  Stuart  cause  and  a  recognition  of 
William  as  King  of  England.  For  Europe  in  general  the  Peace  of 
Ryswick  was  little  more  than  a  truce.  But  for  England  it  was  the 
close  of  a  long  and  obstinate  struggle  and  the  opening  of  a  new 
aera  of  political  history.  It  was  the  final  and  decisive  defeat  of  the 
conspiracy  which  had  gone  on  between  Lewis  and  the  Stuarts  ever 
since  the  Treaty  of  Dover,  the  conspiracy  to  turn  England  into  a 
Roman  Catholic  country  and  into  a  dependency  of  France.     But  it 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


701 


was  even  more  than  this.  It  was  the  definite  establishment  of  England 
as  the  centre  of  European  resistance  against  all  attempts  to  overthrow 
the  balance  of  power. 

Section  IX.— Marlborough.    1698—1712. 

[Authorities. — Lord  Macaulay's  great  work,  which  practically  ends  at  the 
Peace  of  Ryswick,  has  been  continued  by  Lord  Stanhope  (*'  History  of 
England  under  Queen  Anne  ")  during  this  period.  For  Marlborough  himself 
the  main  authority  must  be  the  Duke's  biography  by  Archdeacon  Coxe,  with 
his  "Despatches."  The  French  side  of  the  war  and  negotiations  has  been 
carefully  given  by  M.  Martin  ("  Histoire  de  France")  in  what  is  the  most 
accurate  and  judicious  portion  of  his  work.  Swift's  Journal  to  Stella,  and 
his  political  tracts  and  Bolingbroke's  correspondence  shew  the  character  of 
the  Tory  opposition.] 

What  had  bowed  the  pride  of  Lewis  to  the  humiliating  terms  of 
the  Peace  of  Ryswick  was  not  so  much  the  exhaustion  of  France  as 
the  need  of  preparing  for  a  new  and  greater  struggle.  The  death  of  the 
King  of  Spain,  Charles  the  Second,  was  known  to  be  at  hand ;  and 
with  him  ended  the  male  line  of  the  Austrian  princes,  who  for  two 
hundred  years  had  occupied  the  Spanish  throne.  How  strangely  Spain 
had  fallen  from  its  high  estate  in  Europe  the  wars  of  Lewis  had  abund- 
antly shown,  but  so  vast  was  the  extent  of  its  empire,  so  enormous  the 
resources  which  still  remained  to  it,  that  under  a  vigorous  ruler  men 
believed  its  old  power  would  at  once  return.  Its  sovereign  was  still 
master  of  some  of  the  noblest  provinces  of  the  Old  World  and  the 
New,  of  Spain  itself,  of  the  Milanese,  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  of  the 
Netherlands,  of  Southern  America,  of  the  noble  islands  of  the  Spanish 
Main.  To  add  such  a  dominion  as  this  to  the  dominion  either  of  Lewis 
or  of  the  Emperor  would  be  to  undo  at  a  blow  the  work  of  European 
independence  which  William  had  wrought ;  and  it  was  with  a  view  to 
prevent  either  of  these  results  that  William  freed  his  hands  by  the 
Peace  of  Ryswick.  At  this  moment  the  claimants  of  the  Spanish 
succession  were  three :  the  French  Dauphin,  a  son  of  the  Spanish 
King's  elder  sister  ;  the  Electoral  Prince  of  Bavaria,  a  grandson  of  his 
younger  sister  ;  and  the  Emperor,  who  was  a  son  of  Charles's  aunt. 
In  strict  law— if  there-  had  been  any  law  really  applicable  to  the 
matter— the  claim  of  the  last  was  the  strongest  of  the  three  ;  for  the 
claim  of  the  Dauphin  was  barred  by  an  express  renunciation  of  all 
right  to  the  succession  at  his  mother's  marriage  with  Lewis  the 
Fourteenth,  a  renunciation  which  had  been  ratified  at  the  Treaty  of 
the  Pyrenees  ;  and  a  similar  renunciation  barred  the  claim  of  the 
Bavarian  candidate.  The  claim  of  the  Emperor  was  more  remote  in 
blood,  but  it  was  barred  by  no  renunciation  at  all.  William,  however, 
was  as  resolute  in  the  interests  of  Europe  to  repulse  the  claim  of  the 
Emperor  as  to  repulse  that  of  Lewis  ;  and  it  was  the  consciousness 


702 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


that  the  Austrian  succession  was  inevitable  if  the  war  continued  and 
Spain  remained  a  member  of  the  Grand  Alliance,  in  arms  against 
France  and  leagued  with  the  Emperor,  which  made  him  suddenly 
conclude  the  Peace  of  Ryswick.  Had  England  and  Holland  shared 
William's  temper  he  would  have  insisted  on  the  succession  of  the 
Electoral  Prince  to  the  whole  Spanish  dominions.  But  both  were 
weary  of  war.  In  England  the  peace  was  at  once  followed  by  the 
reduction  of  the  army  at  the  demand  of  the  House  of  Commons  to 
fourteen  thousand  men ;  and  a  clamour  had  already  begun  for  the 
disbanding  even  of  these.  It  was  necessary  to  bribe  the  two  rival 
claimants  to  a  waiver  of  their  claims  ;  and  by  the  First  Partition 
Treaty,  concluded  in  1698,  between  England,  Holland,  and  France, 
the  succession  of  the  Electoral  Prince  was  recognized  on  condition  of 
the  cession  by  Spain  of  its  Italian  possessions  to  his  two  rivals.  The 
Milanese  was  to  pass  to  the  Emperor  ;  the  Two  Sicilies,  with  the 
border  province  of  Guipuzcoa,  to  France.  But  the  arrangement  was 
hardly  concluded  when  the  death  of  the  Bavarian  prince  made  the 
Treaty  waste  paper.  Austria  and  France  were  left  face  to  face,  and 
a  terrible  struggle,  in  which  the  success  of  either  would  be  equally 
fatal  to  the  independence  of  Europe,  seemed  unavoidable.  The  peril 
was  greater  that  the  temper  of  England  left  William  without  the 
means  of  backing  his  policy  by  arms.  The  suffering  which  the  war 
had  caused  to  the  merchant  class,  and  the  pressure  of  the  debt  and 
taxation  it  entailed,  were  waking  every  day  a  more  bitter  resentment 
in  the  people,  and  the  general  discontent  avenged  itself  on  William 
and  the  party  who  had  backed  his  policy.  The  King's  natural  partiality 
to  his  Dutch  favourites,  the  confidence  he  gave  to  Sunderland,  his 
cold  and  sullen  demeanour,  his  endeavours  to  maintain  the  standing 
army,  robbed  him  of  popularity.  In  the  elections  held  at  the  close  of 
1698  a  Tory  majority  pledged  to  peace  was  returned  to  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  Junto  lost  all  hold  on  the  new  Parliament  The 
resignation  of  Montague  and  Russell  was  followed  by  the  dismissal  of 
the  Whig  ministry,  and  Somers  and  his  friends  were  replaced  by  an 
administration  composed  of  moderate  Tories,  with  Lords  Rochester 
and  Godolphin  as  its  leading  members.  The  fourteen  thousand  men 
who  still  remained  in  the  army  were  cut  down  to  seven.  William's 
earnest  entreaty  could  not  turn  the  Parliament  from  its  resolve  to  send 
his  Dutch  guards  out  of  the  country.  The  navy,  which  had  numbered 
forty  thousand  sailors  during  the  war,  was  cut  down  to  eight.  How 
much  William's  hands  were  weakened  by  this  peace-temper  of 
England  was  shown  by  the  Second  Partition  Treaty  which  was  con- 
cluded between  the  two  maritime  powers  and  France.  The  demand 
of  Lewis  that  the  Netherlands  should  be  given  to  the  Elector  of 
Bavaria,  whose  political  position  left  him  a  puppet  in  the  French 
King's  hands,  was  resisted.     Spain,  the  Netherlands,  and  the  Indies 


IX.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


703 


were  assigned  to  the  second  son  of  the  Emperor,  the  Archduke  Charles 
of  Austria.  But  the  whole  of  the  Spanish  territories  in  Italy  were  now 
granted  to  France  ;  and  it  was  provided  that  Milan  should  be  exchanged 
for  Lorraine,  whose  Duke  was  to  be  summarily  transferred  to  the  new 
Duchy.  If  the  Emperor  persisted  in  his  refusal  to  come  into  the 
Treaty,  the  share  of  his  son  was  to  pass  to  another  unnamed  prince, 
who  was  probably  the  Duke  of  Savoy. 

The  Emperor  still  protested,  but  his  protest  was  of  little  moment  so 
long  as  Lewis  and  the  two  maritime  powers  held  firmly  together.  Nor 
was  the  bitter  resentment  of  Spain  of  more  avail.  The  Spaniards 
cared  little  whether  a  French  or  an  Austrian  prince  sat  on  the  throne 
of  Charles  the  Second,  but  their  pride  revolted  against  the  dismember- 
ment of  the  monarchy  by  the  loss  of  its  Italian  dependencies.  Even 
the  dying  King  shared  the  anger  of  his  subjects,  and  a  will  wrested 
from  him  by  the  factions  which  wrangled  over  his  death-bed  bequeathed 
the  whole  monarchy  of  Spain  to  a  grandson  of  Lewis,  the  Duke  of 
Anjou,  the  second  son  of  the  Dauphin.  The  Treaty  of  Partition  was 
so  recent,  and  the  risk  of  accepting  this  bequest  so  great,  that  Lewis 
would  hardly  have  resolved  on  it  but  for  his  belief  that  the  temper  of 
England  must  necessarily  render  William's  opposition  a  fruitless  one. 
Never  in  fact  had  England  been  so  averse  from  war.  So  strong  was 
the  antipathy  to  William's  foreign  policy  that  men  openly  approved 
the  French  King's  course.  Hardly  any  one  in  England  dreaded  the 
succession  of  a  boy  who,  French  as  he  was,  would  as  they  believed 
soon  be  turned  into  a  Spaniard  by  the  natural  course  of  events.  The 
succession  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou  was  generally  looked  upon  as  far 
better  than  the  increase  of  power  which  France  would  have  derived 
from  the  cessions  of  the  last  Treaty  of  Partition,  cessions  which  would 
have  turned  the  Mediterranean,  it  was  said,  into  a  French  lake,  im- 
perilled the  English  trade  with  the  Levant  and  America,  and  raised 
France  into  a  formidable  power  at  sea.  "  It  grieves  me  to  the  heart," 
William  wrote  bitterly,  "that  almost  every  one  rejoices  that  France  has 
preferred  the  Will  to  the  Treaty."  Astonished  and  angered  as  he  was 
at  his  rival's  breach  of  faith,  he  had  no  means  of  punishing  it.  The 
Duke  of  Anjou  entered  Madrid,  and  Lewis  proudly  boasted  that 
henceforth  there  were  no  Pyrenees.  The  life-work  of  William  seemed 
undone.  He  knew  himself  to  be  dying.  His  cough  was  incessant,  his 
eyes  sunk  and  dead,  his  frame  so  weak  that  he  could  hardly  get  into 
his  coach.  But  never  had  he  shown  himself  so  great.  His  courage 
rose  with  every  difficulty.  His  temper,  which  had  been  heated  by  the 
personal  affronts  lavished  on  him  through  English  faction,  was  hushed 
by  a  supreme  effort  of  his  will.  His  large  and  clear-sighted  intellect 
looked  through  the  temporary  embarrassments  of  French  diplomacy 
and  English  party  strife  to  the  great  interests  which  he  knew  must  in 
the  end  determine  the  course  of  European  politics.     Abroad  and  at 


704 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


Sec  IX 

Marl- 
borough 

1698 

TO 

1712 


Englami 
■zmi  the  iva^ 


Dtath  oj 
James 


Sept.  1701 


home  all  seemed  to  go  against  him.  For  the  moment  he  had  no  ally 
save  Holland,  for  Spain  was  now  united  with  Lewis,  while  the  attitude 
of  Bavaria  divided  Germany  and  held  the  House  of  Austria  in  check. 
The  Bavarian  Elector  indeed,  who  had  charge  of  the  Spanish  Nether- 
lands and  on  whom  William  had  counted,  openly  joined  the  French 
side  from  the  first  and  proclaimed  the  Duke  of  Anjou  as  King  in 
Brussels.  In  England  the  new  Parliament  was  crowded  with  Tories 
who  were  resolute  against  war.  The  Tory  Ministry  pressed  him  to 
acknowledge  the  new  King  of  Spain  ;  and  as  even  Holland  did  this, 
William  was  forced  to  submit.  He  could  only  count  on  the  greed  of 
Lewis  to  help  him,  and  he  did  not  count  in  vain.  The  approval  of  the 
French  King's  action  had  sprung  from  the  belief  that  he  intended  to 
leave  Spain  to  the  Spaniards  under  their  new  King.  Bitter  too  as  the 
strife  of  Whig  and  Tory  might  be  in  England,  there  were  two  things 
on  which  Whig  and  Tory  were  agreed.  Neither  would  suffer  France 
to  occupy  the  Netherlands.  Neither  would  endure  a  French  attack 
on  the  Protestant  succession  which  the  Revolution  of  1688  had  es- 
tablished. But  the  arrogance  of  Lewis  blinded  him  to  the  need  of 
moderation  in  his  hour  of  good-luck.  In  the  name  of  his  grandson  he 
introduced  French  troops  into  the  seven  fortresses  known  as  the  Dutch 
barrier,  and  into  Ostend  and  the  coast  towns  of  Flanders.  Even  the 
Peace-Parliament  at  once  acquiesced  in  William's  demand  for  their 
withdrawal,  and  authorized  him  to  conclude  a  defensive  alliance  with 
Holland.  The  King's  policy  indeed  was  bitterly  blamed,  while  the 
late  ministers,  Somers,  Russell,  and  Montague  (now  become  peers), 
were  impeached  for  their  share  in  the  treaties.  But  outside  the  House 
of  Commons  the  tide  of  national  feeling  rose  as  the  designs  of  Lewis 
grew  clearer.  He  refused  to  allow  the  Dutch  barrier  to  be  re-established ; 
and  a  great  French  fleet  gathered  in  the  Channel  to  support,  it  was 
believed,  a  fresh  Jacobite  descent,  which  was  proposed  by  the  ministers 
of  James  in  a  letter  intercepted  and  laid  before  Parliament.  Even  the 
House  of  Commons  took  fire  at  this,  and  the  fleet  was  raised  to  thirty 
thousand  men,  the  army  to  ten  thousand.  Kent  sent  up  a  remonstrance 
against  the  factious  measures  by  which  the  Tories  still  struggled 
against  the  King's  policy,  with  a  prayer  that  addresses  might  be 
turned  into  Bills  of  Supply  ;  and  William  was  encouraged  by  these 
signs  of  a  change  of  temper  to  despatch  an  English  force  to  Holland, 
and  to  conclude  a  secret  treaty  with  the  United  Provinces  for  the 
recovery  of  the  Netherlands  from  Lewis,  and  for  their  transfer  with 
the  Milanese  to  the  house  of  Austria  as  a  means  of  counter-balancing 
the  new  power  added  to  France.  But  England  was  still  clinging 
desperately  to  a  hope  of  peace,  when  Lewis  by  a  sudden  act  forced  it 
into  war.  He  had  acknowledged  William  as  King  in  the  Peace  of 
Ryswick,  and  pledged  himself  to  oppose  all  attacks  on  his  throne.  He 
now  entered  the  bed-chamber  at  St.  Germain  where  James  was  breath- 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


705 


ing  his  last,  and  promised  to  acknowledge  his  son  at  his  death  as  King 
of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland.  The  promise  was  in  fact  a 
declaration  of  war,  and  in  a  moment  all  England  was  at  one  in  ac- 
cepting the  challenge.  The  issue  Lewis  had  raised  was  no  longer  a 
matter  of  European  politics,  but  the  question  whether  the  work  of  the 
Revolution  should  be  undone,  and  whether  Catholicism  and  despotism 
should  be  replaced  on  the  throne  of  England  by  the  arms  of  France. 
On  such  a  question  as  this  there  was  no  difference  between  Tory  and 
Whig.  When  the  death,  in  1700,  of  the  last  child  of  the  Princess  Anne 
had  been  followed  by  a  new  Act  of  Succession,  not  a  voice  had  been 
raised  for  James  or  his  son  ;  and  the  descendants  of  the  daughter 
of  Charles  the  First,  Henrietta  of  Orleans,  whose  only  child  had 
married  the  Catholic  Duke  of  Savoy,  were  passed  over  in  the  same 
silence.  The  Parliament  fell  back  on  the  line  of  James  the  First.  His 
daughter  Elizabeth  had  married  the  Elector  Palatine,  and  her  only 
surviving  child,  Sophia,  was  the  wife  of  the  late  and  the  mother  of  the 
present  Elector  of  Hanover.  It  was  in  Sophia  and  her  heirs,  being 
Protestants,  that  the  Act  of  Settlement  vested  the  Crown.  It  was 
enacted  that  every  English  sovereign  must  be  in  communion  with  the 
Church  of  England  as  by  law  established.  All  future  kings  were  for- 
bidden to  leave  England  without  consent  of  Parliament,  and  foreigners 
were  excluded  from  all  public  posts.  The  independence  of  justice  was 
established  by  a  clause  which  provided  that  no  judge  should  be  re- 
moved from  office  save  on  an  address  from  Parliament  to  the  Crown. 
The  two  principles  that  the  King  acts  only  through  his  ministers,  and 
that  these  ministers  are  responsible  to  Parliament,  were  asserted  by  a 
requirement  that  all  public  business  should  be  formally  done  in  the 
Privy  Council,  and  all  its  decisions  signed  by  its  members — provisions 
which  went  far  to  complete  the  parliamentary  Constitution  which 
had  been  drawn  up  by  the  Bill  of  Rights.  The  national  union  which 
had  already  been  shown  in  this  action  of  the  Tory  Parliament,  now 
showed  itself  in  the  King's  welcome  on  his  return  from  the  Hague, 
where  the  conclusion  of  a  new  Grand  Alliance  between  the  Empire, 
Holland,  and  the  United  Provinces,  had  rewarded  William's  patience 
and  skill.  The  Alliance  was  soon  joined  by  Denmark,  Sweden,  the 
Palatinate,  and  the  bulk  of  the  German  States.  The  Parliament 
of  1702,  though  still  Tory  in  the  main,  replied  to  William's  stirring 
appeal  by  voting  forty  thousand  soldiers  and  as  many  sailors  for  the 
coming  struggle.  A  Bill  of  Attainder  was  passed  against  the  new 
Pretender ;  and  all  members  of  either  House  and  all  public  officials 
were  sworn  to  uphold  the  succession  of  the  House  of  Hanover. 

But  the  King's  weakness  was  already  too  great  to  allow  of  his  taking 
the  field  ;  and  he  was  forced  to  entrust  the  war  in  the  Netherlands  to 
the  one  Enghshman  who  had  shown  himself  capable  of  a  great  com- 
mand.    John  Churchill,  Earl  of  Marlborough,  was  born  in  1650,  the 


*p6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  IX. 

Marl- 
borough 

1698 

TO 

1712 


Churchill 

and 

James 


Churchill 

*nd 
Wmimm 


son  of  a  Devonshire  Cavalier,  whose  daughter  became  at  the  Restora- 
tion mistress  of  the  Duke  of  York      The  shame  of  Arabella  did  more 
perhaps  than  her  father's  loyalty  to  win  for  her  brother  a  commission 
in  the  royal  Guards  ;   and,   after  five   years'   service  abroad  under 
Turenne,  the  young  captain  became  colonel  of  an  English  regiment 
which  was  retained  in  the  service  of  France.     He  had  already  shown 
some  of  the  qualities  of  a  great  soldier,  an  unruffled  courage,  a  bold 
and  venturous  temper  held  in  check  by  a  cool  and  serene  judgment, 
a  vigilance  and  capacity  for  enduring  fatigue  which  never  forsook  him. 
In  later  years  he  was  known  to  spend  a  whole  day  in  reconnoitring, 
and  at  Blenheim  he  remained  on  horseback  for  fifteen  hours.      But 
courage  and  skill  in  arms  did  less  for  Churchill  on  his  return  to  the 
English  court  than  his  personal  beauty.     In  the  French  camp  he  had 
been  known  as  "  the  handsome  Englishman  ; "  and  his  manners  were 
as  winning  as  his  person.      Even  in   age   his  address   was  almost 
irresistible :  "  he  engrossed  the  graces,"   says  Chesterfield  ;  and  his 
air  never  lost  the  careless  sweetness  which  won  the  favour  of  Lady 
Castlemaine.     A  present  of  ;^5,ooo  from  the  King's  mistress  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  fortune  which  grew  rapidly  to  greatness,  as  the  prudent 
forethought  of  the  handsome  young  soldier  hardened  into  the  avarice 
of  age      But  it  was  to  the  Duke  of  York  that  Churchill  looked  mainly 
for  advancement,  and  he  earned  it  by  the  fidelity  with  which  as  a 
member  of  his  household  he  clung  to  the  Duke's  fortunes  during  the 
dark  days  of  the  Popish  Plot.    He  followed  James  to  the  Hague  and  to 
Edinburgh,  and  on  his  master's  return  he  was  rewarded  with  a  peerage 
and  the  colonelcy  of  the  Life  Guards.     The  service  he  rendered  James 
after  his  accession  by  saving  the  royal  army  from  a  surprise  at  Sedge- 
moor  would  have  been  yet  more  splendidly  acknowledged  but  for  the 
King's  bigotry.     In  spite  of  his  master's  personal  solicitations  Churchill 
remained  true  to  Protestantism  ;  but  he  knew  James  too  well  to  count 
on  further  favour.     Luckily  he  had  now  found  a  new  groundwork  for 
his  fortunes  in  the  growing  influence  of  his  wife  over  the  King's  second 
daughter,  Anne  ;  and  at  the  crisis  of  the  Revolution  the  adhesion  of 
Anne  to  the  cause  of  Protestantism  was  of  the  highest  value.     No 
sentiment  of  gratitude  to  his  older  patron  hindered  Marlborough  from 
corresponding  with  the   Prince  of  Orange,  from  promising  Anne's 
sympathy  to  William's  effort,  or  from  deserting  the  ranks  of  the  King's 
army  when  it  faced  William  in  the  field.     His  desertion  proved  fatal 
to  the  royal  cause  ;  but  great  as  this  service  was  it  was  eclipsed  by  a 
second.     It  was  by  his  wife's  persuasion  that  Anne  was  induced  to 
forsake  her  father  and  take  refuge  in  Danby's  camp.     Unscrupulous 
as  his  conduct  had  been,  the  services  which  he  rendered  to  William 
were  too  great  to  miss  their  reward.     He  became   Earl  of  Marl- 
borough ;  he  was  put  at  the  head  of  a  force  during  the  Irish  war 
where  his  rapid  successes  won  William's  regard ;  and  he  was  given 


IX.] 


THE-  REVOLUTION. 


707 


high  command  in  the  army  of  Flanders.  But  the  sense  of  his 
power  over  Anne  soon  turned  Marlborough  from  plotting  treason 
against  James  to  plot  treason  against  William.  Great  as  was  his 
greed  of  gold,  he  had  married  Sarah  Jennings,  a  penniless  beauty 
of  Charles's  court,  in  whom  a  violent  and  malignant  temper  was 
strangely  combined  with  a  power  of  winning  and  retaining  love. 
Churchill's  affection  for  her  ran  like  a  thread  of  gold  through  the  dark 
web  of  his  career.  In  the  midst  of  his  marches  and  from  the  very 
battle-field  he  writes  to  his  wife  with  the  same  passionate  tenderness. 
The  composure  which  no  danger  or  hatred  could  rufBe  broke  down 
into  almost  womanish  depression  at  the  thought  of  her  coldness  or  at 
any  burst  of  her  violent  humour.  He  never  left  her  without  a  pang. 
"  I  did  for  a  great  while  with  a  perspective  glass  look  upon  the  cliffs," 
he  once  wrote  to  her  after  setting  out  on  a  campaign,  "  in  hopes  that 
I  might  have  had  one  sight  of  you."  It  was  no  wonder  that  the 
woman  who  inspired  Marlborough  with  a  love  like  this  bound  to  her 
the  weak  and  feeble  nature  of  the  Princess  Anne.  The  two  friends 
threw  off  the  restraints  of  state,  and  addressed  each  other  as  "  Mrs. 
Freeman  "  and  "  Mrs.  Morley."  It  was  on  his  wife's  influence  over 
her  friend  that  the  Earl's  ambition  counted  in  its  designs  against 
William.  His  plan  was  to  drive  the  King  from  the  throne  by  backing 
the  Tories  in  their  opposition  to  the  war  as  well  as  by  stirring  to  frenzy 
the  English  hatred  of  foreigners,  and  to  seat  Anne  in  his  place.  The 
discovery  of  his  designs  roused  the  King  to  a  burst  of  unusual  resent- 
ment. "  Were  I  and  my  Lord  Marlborough  private  persons,"  William 
exclaimed,  "  the  sword  would  have  to  settle  between  us."  As  it  was, 
he  could  only  strip  the  Earl  of  his  offices  and  command,  and  drive  his 
wife  from  St.  James's.  Anne  followed  her  favourite,  and  the  court  of 
the  Princess  became  the  centre  of  the  Tory  opposition  ;  while  Marl- 
borough opened  a  correspondence  with  James.  So  notorious  was  his 
treason  that  on  the  eve  of  the  French  invasion  of  1692  he  was  one  of 
the  first  of  the  suspected  persons  sent  to  the  Tower. 

The  death  of  Mary  forced  William  to  recall  Anne,  who  became  by 
this  event  his  successor  ;  and  with  Anne  the  Marlboroughs  returned 
to  court.  The  King  could  not  bend  himself  to  trust  the  Earl  again  ; 
but  as  death  drew  near  he  saw  in  him  the  one  man  whose  splendid 
talents  fitted  him,  in  spite  of  the  baseness  and  treason  of  his  life,  to 
rule  England  and  direct  the  Grand  Alliance  in  his  stead.  He  employed 
Marlborough  therefore  to  negotiate  the  treaty  of  alliance  with  the 
Emperor,  and  put  him  at  the  head  of  the  army  in  Flanders.  But  the 
Earl  had  only  just  taken  the  command  when  a  fall  from  his  horse 
proved  fatal  to  the  broken  frame  of  the  King.  "  There  was  a  time 
when  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  been  delivered  out  of  my 
troubles,"  the  dying  man  whispered  to  Portland,  "  but  I  own  I  see 
another  scene,  and  could  wish  to  live  a  little  longer."     He  knew, 


7o8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


however,  that  the  wish  was  vain,  and  commended  Marlborough  to 
Anne  as  the  fittest  person  to  lead  her  armies  and  guide  her  counsels^ 
Anne's  zeal  needed  no  quickening.  Three  days  after  her  accession 
the  Earl  was  named  Captain-General  of  the  English  forces  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  entrusted  with  the  entire  direction  of  the  war.  His 
supremacy  over  home  affairs  was  secured  by  the  construction  of  a 
purely  Tory  administration  with  Lord  Godolphin,  a  close  friend  of 
Marlborough's,  as  Lord  Treasurer  at  its  head.  The  Queen's  affection 
for  his  wife  ensured  him  the  support  of  the  Crown  at  a  moment 
when  Anne's  personal  popularity  gave  the  Crown  a  new  weight  with 
the  nation.  In  England,  indeed,  party  feeling  for  the  moment  died 
away.  All  save  the  extreme  Tories  were  won  over  to  the  war  now 
that  it  was  waged  on  behalf  of  a  Tory  queen  by  a  Tory  general,  while 
the  most  extreme  of  the  Whigs  were  ready  to  back  even  a  Tory 
general  in  waging  a  Whig  war.  Abroad,  however,  William's  death 
shook  the  Alliance  to  its  base  ;  and  even  Holland  wavered  in  dread  of 
being  deserted  by  England  in  the  coming  struggle.  But  the  decision 
of  Marlborough  soon  did  away  with  this  distrust.  Anne  was  made 
to  declare  from  the  throne  her  resolve  to  pursue  with  energy  the 
policy  of  her  predecessor.  The  Parliament  was  brought  to  sanction 
vigorous  measures  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war.  1  he  new  general 
hastened  to  the  Hague,  received  the  command  of  the  Dutch  as  well  as 
of  the  English  forces,  and  drew  the  German  powers  into  the  Confederacy 
with  a  skill  and  adroitness  which  even  William  might  have  envied. 
Never  was  greatness  more  quickly  recognized  than  in  the  case  of 
Marlborough.  In  a  few  months  he  was  regarded  by  all  as  the  guiding 
spirit  of  the  Alliance,  and  princes  whose  jealousy  had  worn  out  the 
patience  of  the  King  yielded  without  a  struggle  to  the  counsels  of  his 
successor.  His  temper  fitted  him  in  an  especial  way  to  be  the  head 
of  a  great  confederacy.  Like  William,  he  owed  little  of  his  power  to 
any  early  training.  The  trace  of  his  neglected  education  was  seen  to 
the  last  in  his  reluctance  to  write.  "  Of  all  things,"  he  said  to  his  wife, 
"  I  do  not  love  writing."  To  pen  a  despatch  indeed  was  a  far  greater 
trouble  to  him  than  to  plan  a  campaign.  But  nature  had  given  him 
qualities  which  in  other  men  spring  specially  from  culture.  His 
capacity  for  business  was  immense.  During  the  next  ten  years  he 
assumed  the  general  direction  of  the  war  in  Flanders  and  in  Spain. 
He  managed  every  negotiation  with  the  courts  of  the  allies.  He 
watched  over  the  shifting  phases  of  English  politics.  He  crossed  the 
Channel  to  win  over  Anne  to  a  change  in  the  Cabinet,  or  hurried  to 
Berlin  to  secure  the  due  contingent  of  Electoral  troops  from  Branden- 
burg. At  one  and  the  same  moment  men  saw  him  reconciling  the 
Emperor  with  the  Protestants  of  Hungary,  stirring  the  Calvinists  of 
the  Cdvennes  into  revolt,  arranging  the  affairs  of  Portugal,  and 
providing  for  the  protection  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy.   But  his  air  showed 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


709 


no  trace  of  fatigue  or  haste  or  vexation.  •  He  retained  to  the  last  the 
indolent  grace  of  his  youth.  His  natural  dignity  was  never  ruffled  by 
an  outbreak  of  temper.  Amidst  the  storm  of  battle  his  soldiers  saw 
their  leader  "  without  fear  of  danger  or  in  the  least  hurry,  giving  his 
orders  with  all  the  calmness  imaginable."  In  the  cabinet  he  was  as 
cool  as  on  the  battle-field.  He  met  with  the  same  equable  serenity 
the  pettiness  of  the  German  princes,  the  phlegm  of  the  Dutch,  the 
ignorant  opposition  of  his  officers,  the  libels  of  his  political  opponents. 
There  was  a  touch  of  irony  in  the  simple  expedients  by  which  he 
sometimes  solved  problems  which  had  baffled  Cabinets.  The  touchy 
pride  of  the  King  of  Prussia  made  him  one  of  the  most  vexatious 
among  the  allies,  but  all  difficulty  with  him  ceased  when  Marlborough 
rose  at  a  state  banquet  and  handed  him  a  napkin.  Churchill's  com- 
posure rested  partly  indeed  on  a  pride  which  could  not  stoop  to  bare 
the  real  self  within  to  the  eyes  of  meaner  men.  In  the  bitter  moments 
before  his  fall  he  bade  Godolphin  burn  some  querulous  letters  which 
the  persecution  of  his  opponents  had  wrung  from  him.  "  My  desire  is 
that  the  world  may  continue  in  their  error  of  thinking  me  a  happy 
man,  for  I  think  it  better  to  be  envied  than  pitied."  But  in  great 
measure  it  sprang  from  the  purely  intellectual  ternper  of  his  mind. 
His  passion  for  his  wife  was  the  one  sentiment  which  tinged  the 
colourless  light  in  which  his  understanding  moved.  In  all  else  he  was 
without  love  or  hate,  he  knew  neither  doubt  nor  regret.  In  private 
life  he  was  a  humane  and  compassionate  man  ;  but  if  his  position 
required  it  he  could  betray  Englishmen  to  death,  or  lead  his  army  to 
a  butchery  such  as  that  of  Malplaquet.  Of  honour  or  the  finer  senti- 
ments of  mankind  he  knew  nothing  ;  and  he  turned  without  a  shock 
from  guiding  Europe  and  winning  great  victories  to  heap  up  a  matchless 
fortune  by  peculation  and  greed.  He  is  perhaps  the  only  instance  of 
a  man  of  real  greatness  who  loved  money  for  money's  sake.  The 
passions  which  stirred  the  men  around  him,  whether  noble  or  ignoble, 
were  to  him  simply  elements  in  an  intellectual  problem  which  had  to 
be  solved  by  patience.  "  Patience  will  overcome  all  things,"  he  writes 
again  and  again.  "  As  I  think  most  things  are  governed  by  destiny, 
having  done  all  things  we  should  submit  with  patience." 

As  a  statesman  the  high  qualities  of  Marlborough  were  owned  by  his 
bitterest  foes.  "  Over  the  Confederacy,"  says  Bolingbroke,  "  he,  a  new, 
a  private  man,  acquired  by  merit  and  management  a  more  decided 
influence  than  high  birth,  confirmed  authority,  and  even  the  crown  of 
Great  Britain,  had  given  to  King  William."  But  great  as  he  was  in 
the  council,  he  was  even  greater  in  the  field.  He  stands  alone  amongst 
the  masters  of  the  art  of  war  as  a  captain  whose  victories  began  at  an 
age  when  the  work  of  most  men  is  done.  Though  he  served  as  a 
young  officer  under  Turenne  and  for  a  few  months  in  Ireland  and  the 
Netherlands,  he  had  held  no  great  command  till  he  took  the  field  in 


/lO 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Flanders  at  the  age  of  fifty-two.  He  stands  alone,  too,  in  his  unbroken 
good  fortune.  Voltaire  notes  that  he  never  besieged  a  fortress  which 
he  did  not  take,  or  fought  a  battle  which  he  did  not  win.  His 
difficulties  came  not  so  much  from  the  enemy,  as  from  the 
ignorance  and  timidity  of  his  own  allies.  He  was  never  defeated  in 
the  field,  but  victory  after  victory  was  snatched  from  him  by  the 
incapacity  of  his  officers  or  the  stubbornness  of  the  Dutch.  What 
startled  the  cautious  strategists  of  his  day  was  the  vigour  and  audacity 
of  his  plans.  Old  as  he  was,  Marlborough's  designs  had  from  the  first 
all  the  dash  and  boldness  of  youth.  On  taking  the  field  in  1702  he  at 
once  resolved  to  force  a  battle  in  the  heart  of  Brabant.  The  plan  was 
foiled  by  the  timidity  of  the  Dutch  deputies.  But  his  resolute  advance 
across  the  Meuse  drew  the  French  forces  from  that  river,  and  enabled 
him  to  reduce  fortress  after  fortress  in  a  series  of  sieges,  till  the 
surrender  of  Lidge  closed  a  campaign  which  cut  off  the  French  from 
the  Lower  Rhine,  and  freed  Holland  from  all  danger  of  an  invasion. 
The  successes  of  Marlborough  had  been  brought  into  bolder  relief  by 
the  fortunes  of  the  war  in  other  quarters.  Though  the  Imperialist 
general.  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy,  showed  his  powers  by  a  surprise  of 
the  French  army  at  Cremona,  no  real  successes  had  been  won  in 
Italy.  An  English  descent  on  the  Spanish  coast  ended  in  failure.  In 
Germany  the  Bavarians  joined  the  French,  and  the  united  armies 
defeated  the  forces  of  the  Empire.  It  was  in  this  quarter  that  Lewis 
resolved  to  push  his  fortunes.  In  the  spring  of  1703  a  fresh  army 
under  Marshal  Villars  again  relieved  the  Bavarian  Elector  from  the 
pressure  of  the  Imperial  forces,  and  only  a  strife  which  arose  between 
the  two  commanders  hindered  the  joint  armies  from  marching  on 
Vienna.  Meanwhile  the  timidity  of  the  Dutch  deputies  served  Lewis 
well  in  the  Low  Countries.  The  hopes  of  Marlborough,  who  had  been 
raised  to  a  Dukedom  for  his  services  in  the  previous  year,  were  again 
foiled  by  the  deputies  of  the  States-General.  Serene  as  his  temper 
was,  it  broke  down  before  their  refusal  to  co-operate  in  an  attack  on 
Antwerp  and  French  Flanders  ;  and  the  prayers  of  Godolphin  and  of 
the  pensionary  Heinsius  alone  induced  him  to  withdraw  his  offer  of 
resignation.  But  in  spite  of  his  victories  on  the  Danube,  of  the 
blunders  of  his  adversaries  on  the  Rhine,  and  the  sudden  aid  of  an 
insurrection  which  broke  out  in  Hungary,  the  difficulties  of  Lewis 
were  hourly  increasing.  The  accession  of  Savoy  to  the  Grand 
Alliance  threatened  his  armies  in  Italy  with  destruction.  That  of 
Portugal  gave  the  allies  a  base  of  operations  against  Spain.  The 
French  King's  energy  however  rose  with  the  pressure  ;  and  while  the 
Duke  of  Berwick,  a  natural  son  of  James  the  Second,  was  despatched 
against  Portugal,  and  three  small  armies  closed  round  Savoy,  the 
flower  of  the  French  troops  joined  the  army  of  Bavaria  on  the 
Danube  ;  for  the  bold  plan  of  Lewis  was  to  decide  the  fortunes  of  the 


IXj 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


711 


war  by  a  victory  which  would  wrest  peace  from  the  Empire  under  the 
walls  of  Vienna. 

The  master-stroke  of  Lewis  roused  Marlborough  at  the  opening  of 
1704  to  a  master-stroke  in  return  ;  but  the  secresy  and  boldness  of  the 
Duke's  plans  deceived  both  his  enemies  and  his  allies.  The  French 
army  in  Flanders  saw  in  his  march  upon  Maintz  only  a  design  to 
transfer  the  war  into  Elsass.  The  Dutch  were  lured  into  suffering 
their  troops  to  be  drawn  as  far  from  Flanders  as  Coblentz  by  proposals 
for  an  imaginary  campaign  on  the  Moselle.  It  was  only  when  Marl- 
borough crossed  the  Neckar  and  struck  through  the  centre  of  Germany 
for  the  Danube  that  the  true  aim  of  his  operations  was  revealed. 
After  struggling  through  the  hill  country  of  Wiirtemberg,  he  joined  the 
Imperial  army  under  the  Prince  of  Baden,  stormed  the  heights  of 
Donauwerth,  crossed  the  Danube  and  the  Lech,  and  penetrated  into 
the  heart  of  Bavaria.  The  crisis  drew  the  two  armies  which  were 
facing  one  another  on  the  Upper  Rhine  to  the  scene.  The  arrival  of 
Marshal  Tallard  with  thirty  thousand  French  troops  saved  the  Elector 
of  Bavaria  for  the  moment  from  the  need  of  submission ;  but  the 
junction  of  his  opponent.  Prince  Eugene,  with  Marlborough  raised  the 
contending  forces  again  to  an  equality.  After  a  few  marches  the  armies 
met  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Danube,  near  the  little  town  of  Hochstadt 
and  the  village  of  Blindheim  or  Blenheim,  which  have  given  their 
names  to  one  of  the  most  memorable  battles  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  In  one  respect  the  struggle  which  followed  stands  almost 
unrivalled,  for  the  whole  of  the  Teutonic  race  was  represented  in 
the  strange  medley  of  Englishmen,  Dutchmen,  Hanoverians,  Danes, 
Wurtembergers  and  Austrians  who  followed  Marlborough  and  Eugene. 
The  French  and  Bavarians,  who  numbered  like  their  opponents  some 
fifty  thousand  men,  lay  behind  a  little  stream  which  ran  through 
swampy  ground  to  the  Danube.  Their  position  was  a  strong  one,  for 
its  front  was  covered  by  the  swamp,  its  right  by  the  Danube,  its  left  by 
the  hill-country  in  which  the  stream  rose  ;  and  Tallard  had  not  only 
entrenched  himself,  but  was  far  superior  to  his  rival  in  artillery.  But  for 
once  Marlborough's  hands  were  free.  "  I  have  great  reason,"  he  wrote 
calmly  home,  "  to  hope  that  everything  will  go  well,  for  I  have  the 
pleasure  to  find  all  the  officers  willing  to  obey  without  knowing  any 
other  reason  than  that  it  is  my  desire,  which  is  very  different  from 
what  it  was  in  Flanders,  where  I  was  obliged  to  have  the  consent  of  a 
council  of  war  for  everything  I  undertook."  So  formidable  were  the 
obstacles,  however,  that  thou-^h  the  allies  were  in  motion  at  sunrise, 
it  was  not  till  midday  that  Eugene,  who  commanded  on  the  right, 
succeeded  in  crossing  the  stream.  The  English  foot  at  once  forded  it 
on  the  left  and  attacked  the  village  of  Blindheim  in  which  the  bulk  of 
the  French  infantry  were  entrenched  ;  but  after  a  furious  struggle  the 
attack  was  repulsed,  while  as  gallant  a  resistance  at  the  other  end  of 


712 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  line  held  Eugene  in  check.  The  centre,  however,  which  the  French 
believed  to  be  unassailable,  had  been  chosen  by  Marlborough  for  the 
chief  point  of  attack  ;  and  by  making  an  artificial  road  across  the 
morass  he  was  at  last  enabled  to  throw  his  eight  thousand  horsemen 
on  the  French  cavalry  which  occupied  this  position.  Two  desperate 
charges  which  the  Duke  headed  in  person  decided  the  day.  The 
French  centre  was  flung  back  on  the  Danube  and  forced  to  surrender. 
Their  left  fell  back  in  confusion  on  Hochstadt :  while  their  right, 
cooped  up  in  Blindheim  and  cut  off  from  retreat,  became  prisoners  of 
war.  Of  the  defeated  army  only  twenty  thousand  escaped.  Twelve 
thousand  were  slain,  fourteen  thousand  were  captured.  Germany  was 
finally  freed  from  the  French  ;  and  Marlborough,  who  followed  the 
wreck  of  the  French  host  in  its  flight  to  Elsass,  soon  made  himself 
master  of  the  Lower  Moselle.  But  the  loss  of  France  could  not  be 
measured  by  men  or  fortresses.  A  hundred  victories  since  Rocroi  had 
taught  the  world  to  regard  th^  French  army  as  invincible,  when 
Blenheim  and  the  surrender  of  the  flower  of  the  French  soldiery  broke 
the  spell.  From  that  moment  the  terror  of  victory  passed  to  the  side 
of  the  allies,  and  "  Malbrook  "  became  a  name  of  fear  to  every  child 
in  France. 

In  England  itself  the  victory  of  Blenheim  aided  to  bring  about  a 
great  change  in  the  political  aspect  of  affairs.  The  Tories  were 
resolved  to  create  a  permanent  Tory  majority  in  the  Commons  by 
excluding  Nonconformists  from  the  municipal  corporations,  which 
returned  the  bulk  of  the  borough  members.  The  Protestant  Dissenters, 
while  adhering  to  their  separate  congregations,  in  which  they  were 
now  protected  by  the  Toleration  Act,  "qualified  for  office"  by  the 
"  occasional  conformity  "  of  receiving  the  sacrament  at  Church  once 
in  the  year.  It  was  against  this  "occasional  conformity"  that  the 
Tories  introduced  a  test  to  exclude  the  Nonconformists  ;  and  this  test 
at  first  received  Marlborough's  support.  But  it  was  steadily  rejected 
by  the  Lords  as  often  as  it  was  sent  up  to  them,  and  it  was  soon 
guessed  that  their  resistance  was  secretly  backed  by  both  Marl- 
borough and  Godolphin.  Tory  as  he  was,  in  fact,  Marlborough  had 
no  mind  for  an  unchecked  Tory  rule,  or  for  a  revival  of  religious 
strife  which  would  be  fatal  to  the  war.  But  he  strove  in  vain  to 
propitiate  his  party  by  inducing  the  Queen  to  set  aside  the  tenths 
and  first-fruits  hitherto  paid  by  the  clergy  to  the  Crown  as  a  fund 
for  the  augmentation  of  small  benefices,  a  fund  which  still  bears 
the  name  of  (2ueen  Anne's  Bounty.  The  Commons  showed  their 
resentment  by  refusing  to  add  a  grant  of  money  to  the  grant  of  a 
Dukedom  after  his  first  campaign  ;  and  the  higher  Tories,  with  Lord 
Nottingham  at  their  head,  began  to  throw  every  obstacle  they  could 
in  the  way  of  the  continuance  of  the  war.  At  last  they  quitted 
office  in  1704,  and  Marlborough  replaced  them  by  Tories  of  a  more 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


713 


moderate  stamp  who  were  still  in  favour  of  the  war:  by  Robert 
Harley,  who  became  Secretary  of  State,  and  Henry  St.  John,  a  man 
of  splendid  talents,  who  was  named  Secretary  at  War.  The  Duke's 
march  into  Germany,  which  pledged  England  to  a  struggle  in  the 
heart  of  the  Continent,  embittered  the  political  strife.  The  high 
Tories  and  Jacobites  threatened,  if  Marlborough  failed,  to  bring  his 
head  to  the  block,  and  only  the  victory  of  Blenheim  saved  him  from 
pohtical  ruin.  Slowly  and  against  his  will  the  Duke  drifted  from  his 
own  party  to  the  party  which  really  backed  his  policy.  He  availed 
himself  of  the  national  triumph  over  Blenheim  to  dissolve  Parliament ; 
and  when  the  election  of  1705,  as  he  hoped,  returned  a  majority  in 
favour  of  the  war,  his  efforts  brought  about  a  coalition  between  the 
moderate  Tories  who  still  clung  to  him  and  the  Whig  Junto,  whose 
support  was  purchased  by  making  a  Whig,  William  Cowper,  Lord 
Keeper,  and  by  sending  Lord  Sunderland  as  envoy  to  Vienna.  The 
bitter  attacks  of  the  peace  party  were  entirely  foiled  by  this  union,  and 
Marlborough  at  last  felt  secure  at  home.  But  he  had  to  bear  disap- 
pointment abroad.  His  plan  of  attack  along  the  line  of  the  Moselle 
was  defeated  by  the  refusal  of  the  Imperial  army  to  join  him.  When 
he  entered  the  French  lines  across  the  Dyle,  the  Dutch  generals  with- 
drew their  troops  ;  and  his  proposal  to  attack  the  Duke  of  Villeroy  in 
the  field  of  Waterloo  was  rejected  in  full  council  of  war  by  the  deputies 
of  the  States  with  cries  of  "murder"  and  "massacre."  Even  Marl- 
borough's composure  broke  into  bitterness  at  the  blow.  "Had  I  had 
the  same  power  I  had  last  year,"  he  wrote  home,  "  I  could  have  won  a 
greater  victory  than  that  of  Blenheim."  On  his  complaint  the  States 
recalled  their  commissaries,  but  the  year  was  lost ;  nor  had  greater 
results  been  brought  about  in  Italy  or  on  the  Rhine.  The  spirits  of  the 
allies  were  only  sustained  by  the  romantic  exploits  of  Lord  Peterborough 
in  Spain.  Profligate,  unprincipled,  flighty  as  he  was,  Peterborough  had  a 
genius  for  war,  and  his  seizure  of  Barcelona  with  a  handful  of  men,  his 
recognition  of  the  old  liberties  of  Aragon,  roused  that  province  to 
support  the  cause  of  the  second  son  of  the  Emperor,  who  had  been 
acknowledged  as  King  of  Spain  by  the  allies  under  the  title  of  Charles 
the  Third.  Catalonia  and  Valencia  soon  joined  Aragon  in  declaring 
for  Charles :  while  Marlborough  spent  the  winter  of  1705  in  negotia- 
tions at  Vienna,  Berlin,  Hanover,  and  the  Hague,  and  in  preparations 
for  the  coming  campaign.  Eager  for  freedom  of  action,  and  sick  of 
the  Imperial  generals  as  of  the  Dutch,  he  planned  a  march  over  the 
Alps  and  a  campaign  in  Italy  ;  and  though  his  designs  were  defeated 
by  the  opposition  of  the  allies,  he  found  himself  unfettered  when  he 
again  appeared  in  Flanders  in  1706.  The  French  marshal  Villeroy 
was  as  eager  as  Marlborough  for  an  engagement ;  and  the  two  armies 
met  on  the  23rd  of  May  at  the  village  of  Ramillies  on  the  undulating 


plain  which  forms  the  highest  ground  in  Brabant. 

2   A* 


The  French  were 


7H 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


drawn  up  in  a  wide  curve  with  morasses  covering  their  front.  After  a 
feint  on  their  left,  Marlborough  flung  himself  on  their  right  wing  at 
Ramillies,  crushed  it  in  a  brilliant  charge  that  he  led  in  person,  and 
swept  along  their  whole  line  till  it  broke  in  a  rout  which  only  ended 
beneath  the  walls  of  Louvain.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  the  French  had  lost 
fifteen  thousand  men,  their  baggage,  and  their  guns  ;  and  the  line  of  the 
Scheldt,  Brussels,  Antwerp  and  Bruges  became  the  prize  of  the  victors. 
It  only  needed  four  successful  sieges  which  followed  the  battle  of 
Ramillies  to  complete  the  deliverance  of  Flanders. 

The  year  which  witnessed  the  victory  of  Ramillies  remains  yet  more 
memorable  as  the  year  which  witnessed  the  final  Union  of  England 
with  Scotland.  As  the  undoing  of  the  earlier  union  had  been  the  first 
work  of  the  Government  of  the  Restoration,  its  revival  was  one  of  the 
first  aims  of  the  Government  which  followed  the  Revolution.  But  the 
project  was  long  held  in  check  by  religious  and  commercial  jealousies. 
Scotland  refused  to  bear  any  part  of  the  English  debt.  England 
would  not  yield  any  share  in  her  monopoly  of  trade  with  the  colonies. 
The  English  Churchmen  longed  for  a  restoration  of  Episcopacy  north 
of  the  border,  while  the  Scotch  Presbyterians  would  not  hear  even  of 
the  legal  toleration  of  Episcopalians.  In  1703,  however,  an  Act  of 
Settlement  which  passed  through  the  Scotch  Parliament  at  last 
brought  home  to  English  statesmen  the  dangers  of  further  delay.  In 
dealing  with  this  measure  the  Scotch  Whigs,  who  cared  only  for 
the  independence  of  their  country,  joined  hand  in  hand  with  the 
Scotch  Jacobites,  who  looked  only  to  the  interests  of  the  Pretender. 
The  Jacobites  excluded  from  the  Act  the  name  of  the  Princess 
Sophia ;  the  Whigs  introduced  a  provision  that  no  sovereign  of 
England  should  be  recognized  as  sovereign  of  Scotland  save  upon 
security  given  to  the  religion,  freedom,  and  trade  of  the  Scottish 
people.  Great  as  the  danger  arising  from  such  a  measure  undoubtedly 
was,  for  it  pointed  to  a  recognition  of  the  Pretender  in  Scotland  on  the 
Queen's  death,  and  such  a  recognition  meant  war  between  Scotland 
and  England,  it  was  only  after  three  years'  delay  that  the  wisdom  and 
resolution  of  Lord  Somers  brought  the  question  to  an  issue.  The 
Scotch  proposals  of  a  federative  rather  than  a  legislative  union  were 
set  aside  by  his  firmness  ;  the  commercial  jealousies  of  the  English 
trader  were  put  by  ;  and  the  Act  of  Union  provided  that  the  two 
kingdoms  should  be  united  into  one  under  the  name  of  Great  Britain, 
and  that  th.-  succession  to  the  crown  of  this  United  Kingdom  should  be 
ruled  by  the  provisions  of  the  English  Act  of  Settlement.  The  Scotch 
Church  and  the  Scotch  Law  were  left  untouched :  but  all  rights  of  trade 
were  thrown  open,  and  a  uniform  system  of  coinage  adopted.  A  single 
Parliament  was  henceforth  to  represent  the  United  Kingdom,  and  for 
this  purpose  forty-five  Scotch  members  were  added  to  the  five  hundred 
and  thirteen  English  members  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  si.\teen 


ix.y 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


7»S 


representative  peers  to  the  one  hundred  and  eight  who  formed  the 
English  House  of  Lords.  In  Scotland  the  opposition  was  bitter  and 
almost  universal.  The  terror  of  the  Presbyterians  indeed  was  met  by 
an  Act  of  Security  which  became  part  of  the  Treaty  of  Union,  and 
which  required  an  oath  to  support  the  Presbyterian  Church  from  every 
sovereign  on  his  accession.  But  no  securities  could  satisfy  the  enthu- 
siastic patriots  or  the  fanatical  Cameronians.  The  Jacobites  sought 
troops  from  France,  and  plotted  a  Stuart  restoration.  The  nationalists 
talked  of  seceding  from  the  Houses  which  voted  for  the  Union,  and 
of  establishing  a  rival  Parliament.  In  tl.e  end,  however,  good  sense 
and  the  loyalty  of  the  trading  classes  to  the  cause  of  the  Protestant 
succession  won  their  way.  The  measure  was  adopted  by  the  Scotch 
Parliament,  and  the  Treaty  of  Union  became  in  1707  a  legislative  Act 
to  which  Anne  gave  her  assent  in  noble  words.  "  I  desire,"  said  the 
Queen,  "  and  expect  from  my  subjects  of  both  nations  that  from  hence- 
forth they  act  with  all  possible  respect  and  kindness  to  one  another, 
that  so  it  may  appear  to  all  the  world  they  have  hearts  disposed  to 
become  one  people."  Time  has  more  than  answered  these  hopes. 
The  two  nations  whom  the  Union  brought  together  have  ever  since 
remained  one.  England  gained  in  the  removal  of  a  constant  danger 
of  treason  and  war.  To  Scotland  the  Union  opened  up  new  avenues 
of  wealth  which  the  energy  of  its  people  turned  to  wonderful  account 
The  farms  of  Lothian  have  become  models  of  agricultural  skill.  A 
fishing  town  on  the  Clyde  has  grown  into  the  rich  and  populous 
Glasgow.  Peace  and  culture  have  changed  the  wild  clansmen  of  the 
Highlands  into  herdsmen  and  farmers.  Nor  was  the  change  followed 
by  any  loss  of  national  spirit.  The  world  has  hardly  seen  a  mightier 
and  more  rapid  development  of  national  energy  than  that  of  Scotland 
after  the  Union.  All  that  passed  away  was  the  jealousy  which  had 
parted  since  the  days  of  Edward  the  First  two  peoples  whom  a 
common  blood  and  common  speech  proclaimed  to  be  one.  The 
Union  between  Scotland  and  England  has  been  real  and  stable  simply 
because  it  was  the  legislative  acknowledgment  and  enforcement  of  a 
national  fact. 

With  the  defeat  of  Ramillies  the  fortunes  of  France  reached  their 
lowest  ebb.  The  loss  of  Flanders  was  followed  by  the  loss  of  Italy 
after  a  victory  by  which  Eugene  relieved  Turin ;  and  not  only  did 
Peterborough  hold  his  ground  in  Spain,  but  Charles  the  Third  with  an 
army  of  English  and  Portuguese  entered  Madrid.  Marlborough  was 
at  the  height  of  his  renown.  Ramillies  gave  him  strength  enough  to 
force  Anne,  in  spite  of  her  hatred  of  the  Whigs,  to  fulfil  his  compact 
with  them  by  admitting  Lord  Sunderland,  the  bitterest  leader  of  their 
party,  to  office.  But  the  system  of  political  balance  which  he  had  j 
maintained  till  now  began  at  once  to  break  down.  Constitutionally, 
Marlborough's  was  the  last  attempt  to  govern  England  on  other  terms 


7i6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


than  those  of  party  government,  and  the  union  of  parties  to  which  he 
had  clung  ever  since  his  severance  from  the  extreme  Tories  soon 
became  impossible.  The  growing  opposition  of  the  Tories  to  the  war 
threw  the  Duke  more  and  more  on  the  support  of  the  Whigs,  and  the 
Whigs  sold  their  support  dearly.  Sunderland,  who  had  inherited  his 
father's  conceptions  of  party  government,  was  resolved  to  restore 
a  strict  party  administration  on  a  purely  Whig  basis,  and  to  drive 
the  moderate  Tories  from  office  in  spite  of  Marlborough's  desire  to 
retain  them.  The  Duke  wrote  hotly  home  at  the  news  of  the 
pressure  which  the  Whigs  were  putting  on  him.  "England,"  he 
said,  "  will  not  be  ruined  because  a  few  men  are  not  pleased."  Nor 
was  Marlborough  alone  in  his  resentment.  Harley  foresaw  the  danger 
of  his  expulsion  from  office,  and  began  to  intrigue  at  court,  through 
Mrs.  Masham,  a  bedchamber  woman  of  the  Queen,  who  was  supplant- 
ing the  Duchess  in  Anne's  favour,  against  the  Whigs  and  against 
Marlborough.  St.  John,  who  owed  his  early  promotion  to  office  to  the 
Duke's  favour,  was  driven  by  the  same  fear  to  share  Harley's  schemes. 
Marlborough  strove  to  win  both  of  them  back,  but  he  was  helpless  in 
the  hands  of  the  only  party  that  steadily  supported  the  war.  A 
factious  union  of  the  Whigs  with  their  opponents,  though  it  roused  the 
Duke  to  a  burst  of  unusual  passion  in  Parliament,  effected  its  end  by 
convincing  him  of  the  impossibility  of  further  resistance.  The  oppo- 
sition of  the  Queen  indeed  was  stubborn  and  bitter.  Anne  was  at 
heart  a  Tory,  and  her  old  trust  in  Marlborough  died  with  his  sub- 
mission to  the  Whig  demands.  It  was  only  by  the  threat  of  resignation 
that  he  had  forced  her  to  admit  Sunderland  to  office  ;  and  the  violent 
outbreak  of  temper  with  which  the  Duchess  enforced  her  husband's 
will  changed  the  Queen's  friendship  for  her  into  a  bitter  resentment 
Marlborough  was  driven  to  increase  this  resentment  by  fresh  com- 
pliances with  the  conditions  which  the  Whigs  imposed  on  him,  by 
removing  Peterborough  from  his  command  as  a  Tory  general,  and  by 
wresting  from  Anne  her  consent  to  the  dismissal  from  office  of  Harley 
and  St.  John  with  the  moderate  Tories  whom  they  headed.  Their 
removal  was  followed  by  the  complete  triumph  of  the  Whigs.  Somers 
became  President  of  the  Council,  Wharton  Lord- Lieutenant  of  Irelend, 
while  lower  posts  were  occupied  by  men  destined  to  play  a  great  part 
in  our  later  history,  such  as  the  young  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Robert 
Walpole.  Meanwhile,  the  great  struggle  abroad  went  on,  with  striking 
alternations  of  success.  France  rose  with  singular  rapidity  from  the 
crushing  blow  of  Ramillies.  Spain  was  recovered  for  Philip  by  a  victory 
of  Marshal  Berwick  at  Almanza.  Villars  won  fresh  triumphs  on  the 
Rhine,  while  Eugene,  who  had  penetrated  into  Provence,  was  driven 
back  into  Italy.  In  Flanders,  Marlborough's  designs  for  taking  ad- 
vantage of  his  great  victory  were  foiled  by  the  strategy  of  the  Duke 
of  Vendome  and   by   the   reluctance  of  the   Dutch,  who  were  now 


rx.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


717 


wavering  towards  peace.  In  the  campaign  of  1708,  however,  Ven- 
dome,  in  spite  of  his  superiority  in  force,  was  attacked  and  defeated  at 
Gudenarde  ;  and  though  Marlborough  was  hindered  from  striking  at 
the  heart  of  France  by  the  timidity  of  the  EngHsh  and  Dutch  statesmen, 
he  reduced  Lille,  the  strongest  of  its  frontier  fortresses,  in  the  face  of 
an  army  of  relief  which  numbered  a  hundred  thousand  men.  The 
pride  of  Lewis  was  at  last  broken  by  defeat  and  by  the  terrible 
suffering  of  France.  He  offered  terms  of  peace  which  yielded  all  that 
the  allies  had  fought  for.  He  consented  to  withdraw  his  aid  from 
Philip  of  Spain,  to  give  up  ten  Flemish  fortresses  to  the  Dutch,  and  to 
surrender  to  the  Empire  all  that  France  had  gained  since  the  Treaty  of 
Westphalia.  He  offered  to  acknowledge  Anne,  to  banish  the  Pretender 
from  his  dominions,  and  to  demolish  the  fortifications  of  Dunkirk,  a 
port  hateful  to  England  as  the  home  of  the  French  privateers. 

To  Marlborough  peace  now  seemed  secure  ;  but  in  spite  of  his 
counsels,  the  allies  and  the  Whig  Ministers  in  England  demanded 
that  Lewis  should  with  his  own  troops  compel  his  grandson  to  give  up 
the  crown  of  Spain.  "  If  I  must  wage  war,"  replied  the  King,  "  I  had 
rather  wage  it  against  my  enemies  than  against  my  children."  In  a 
bitter  despair  he  appealed  to  France ;  and  exhausted  as  it  was,  the 
campaign  of  1709  proved  how  nobly  France  answered  his  appeal. 
The  terrible  slaughter  which  bears  the  name  of  the  battle  of  Mal- 
plaquet  showed  a  new  temper  in  the  French  soldiers.  Starving  as 
they  were,  they  flung  away  their  rations  in  their  eagerness  for  the 
fight,  and  fell  back  at  its  close  in  serried  masses  that  no  efforts  of 
Marlborough  could  break.  They  had  lost  twelve  thousand  men,  but 
the  forcing  their  lines  of  entrenchment  had  cost  the  allies  a  loss  of 
double  that  number.  Horror  at  such  a  "  deluge  of  blood  "  increased 
the  growing  weariness  of  the  war  ;  and  the  rejection  of  the  French  offers 
was  unjustly  attributed  to  a  desire  on  the  part  of  Marlborough  of 
lengthening  out  a  contest  which  brought  him  profit  and  power.  A 
storm  of  popular  passion  burst  suddenly  on  the  Whigs.  Its  occasion 
was  a  dull  and  silly  sermon  in  which  a  High  Church  divine,  Dr. 
Sacheverell,  maintained  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance  at  St.  Paul's. 
His  boldness  challenged  prosecution;  but  in  spite  of  the  warning  of 
Marlborough  and  of  Somers  the  Whig  Ministers  resolved  on  his  im- 
peachment before  the  Lords,  and  the  trial  at  once  widened  into  a  great 
party  struggle.  An  outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm  in  Sacheverell's 
favour  showed  what  a  storm  of  hatred  had  gathered  against  the  Whigs 
and  the  war.  The  most  eminent  of  the  Tory  Churchmen  stood  by  his 
side  at  the  bar,  crowds  escorted  him  to  the  court  and  back  again,  while 
the  streets  rang  with  cries  of  "  The  Church  and  Dr.  Sacheverell."  A 
small  majority  of  the  peers  found  the  preacher  guilty,  but  the  light 
sentence  they  inflicted  was  in  effect  an  acquittal,  and  bonfires  and 
illuminations  over  the  whole  country  welcomed  it  as  a  Tory  triumph. 


7i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


The  party  whom  the  Whigs  had  striven  to  crush  were  roused  to  new 
life.  The  expulsion  of  Harley  and  St.  John  from  the  Ministry  had  given 
the  Tories  leaders  of  a  more  subtle  and  vigorous  stamp  than  the  High 
Churchmen  who  had  quitted  office  in  the  first  years  of  the  war,  and 
St.  John  brought  into  play  a  new  engine  of  political  attack  whose 
powers  soon  made  themselves  felt.  In  the  Examiner  and  in  a  crowd 
of  pamphlets  and  periodicals  which  followed  in  its  train,  the  humour  of 
Prior,  the  bitter  irony  of  Swift,  and  St.  John's  own  brilliant  sophistry 
spent  themselves  on  the  abuse  of  the  war  and  of  its  general.  "  Six 
millions  of  STipplies  and  almost  fifty  millions  of  debt ! "  Swift  wrote 
bitterly  ;  "the  High  Allies  have  been  the  ruin  of  us  !"  Marlborough 
was  ridiculed  and  reviled,  he  was  accused  of  insolence,  cruelty  and 
ambition,  of  corruption  and  greed.  Even  his  courage  was  called  in 
question.  The  turn  of  popular  feeling  freed  Anne  at  once  from  the 
pressure  beneath  which  she  had  bent :  and  the  subtle  intrigue  of  Harley 
was  busy  in  undermining  the  Ministry.  The  Whigs,  who  knew  the 
Duke's  alliance  with  them  had  simply  been  forced  on  him  by  the  war. 
were  easily  persuaded  that  the  Queen  had  no  aim  but  to  humble  him, 
and  looked  coolly  on  at  the  dismissal  of  his  son-in-law,  Sunderland,  and 
his  friend,  Godolphin.  Marlborough  on  his  part  was  lured  by  hopes 
of  reconciliation  with  his  old  party,  and  looked  on  as  coolly  while 
Anne  dismissed  the  Whig  Ministers  and  appointed  a  Tory  Ministry 
in  their  place,  with  Harley  and  St.  John  at  its  head.  But  the  intrigues 
of  Harley  paled  before  the  subtle  treason  of  St.  John.  Resolute  to 
drive  Marlborough  from  his  command,  he  fed  the  Duke's  hopes  of 
reconciliation  with  the  Tories,  till  he  led  him  to  acquiesce  in  his 
wife's  dismissal,  and  to  pledge  himself  to  a  co-operation  with  the 
Tory  policy.  It  was  the  Duke's  belief  that  a  reconciliation  with  the 
Tories  was  effected  that  led  him  to  sanction  the  despatch  of  troops 
which  should  have  strengthened  his  army  in  Flanders  on  a  fruitless 
expedition  against  Canada,  though  this  left  him  too  weak  to  carry  out 
a  masterly  plan  which  he  had  formed  for  a  march  into  the  heart  ol 
France  in  the  opening  of  171 1.  He  was  unable  even  to  risk  a  battle 
or  to  do  more  than  to  pick  up  a  few  seaboard  towns,  and  St.  John  at 
once  turned  the  small  results  of  the  campaign  into  an  argument  for  tho 
conclusion  of  peace.  In  defiance  of  an  article  of  the  Grand  Alliance 
which  pledged  its  members  not  to  carry  on  separate  negotiations  with 
France,  St.  John,  who  now  became  Lord  Bolingbroke,  pushed  forward 
a  secret  accommodation  between  England  and  France.  It  was  foi 
this  negotiation  that  he  had  crippled  Marlborough's  campaign  ;  and  it 
was  the  discovery  of  his  perfidy  which  revealed  to  the  Duke  how  utterly 
he  had  been  betrayed,  and  forced  him  at  last  to  break  with  the  Tory 
Ministry.  He  returned  to  England  ;  and  his  efforts  induced  the  House 
of  Lords  to  denounce  the  contemplated  peace  ;  but  the  support  of  the 
Commons  and  the  Queen,  and  the  general  hatred  of  the  war  among  the 


IX.J 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


719 


people,  enabled  Harley  to  ride  down  all  resistance.  At  the  opening  of 
17 1 2  the  Whig  majority  in  the  House  of  Lords  was  swamped  by  the 
creation  of  twelve  Tory  peers.  Marlborough  was  dismissed  from  his 
command,  charged  with  peculation,  and  condemned  as  guilty  by  a 
vote  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Duke  at  once  withdrew  from 
England,  and  with  his  withdrawal  all  opposition  to  the  peace  was  at 
an  end. 

Marlborough's  flight  was  followed  by  the  conclusion  of  a  Treaty  at 
Utrecht  between  France,  England,  and  the  Dutch  ;  and  the  desertion 
of  his  allies  forced  the  Emperor  at  last  to  make  peace  at  Rastadt.  By 
these  treaties  the  original  aim  of  the  war,  that  of  preventing  the 
possession  of  France  and  Spain  by  the  House  of  Bourbon,  was 
abandoned.  No  precaution  was  taken  against  the  dangers  it  involved 
to  the  "balance  of  power,"  save  by  a  provision  that  the  two  crowns 
should  never  be  united  on  a  single  head,  and  by  Philip's  renunciation 
of  all  right  of  succession  to  the  throne  of  France.  The  principle  on 
which  the  Treaties  were  based  was  in  fact  that  of  the  earlier  Treaties 
of  Partition.  Philip  retained  Spain  and  the  Indies  :  but  he  ceded  his 
possessions  in  Italy  and  the  Netherlands  with  the  island  of  Sardinia 
to  Charles  of  Austria,  who  had  now  become  Emperor,  in  satisfaction 
of  his  claims ;  while  he  handed  over  Sicily  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy. 
To  England  he  gave  up  not  only  Minorca  but  Gibraltar,  two  positions 
which  secured  her  the  command  of  the  Mediterranean.  France  had 
to  consent  to  the  re-establishment  of  the  Dutch  barrier  on  a  greater 
scale  than  before  ;  to  pacify  the  Enghsh  resentment  against  the 
French  privateers  by  the  dismantling  of  Dunkirk  ;  and  not  only  to 
recognize  the  right  of  Anne  to  the  crown,  and  the  Protestant  succes- 
sion in  the  House  of  Hanover,  but  to  consent  to  the  expulsion  of  the 
Pretender  from  her  soil.  The  failure  of  the  Queen's  health  made 
the  succession  the  real  question  of  the  day,  and  it  was  a  question  which 
turned  all  politics  into  faction  and  intrigue.  The  Whigs,  who  were 
still  formidable  in  the  Commons,  and  who  showed  the  strength  of  their 
party  in  the  Lords  by  defeating  a  Treaty  of  Commerce,  in  which  Boling- 
broke  anticipated  the  greatest  financial  triumph  of  William  Pitt  and 
secured  freedom  of  trade  between  England  and  France,  were  zealous 
for  the  succession  of  the  Elector  ;  nor  did  the  Tories  really  contemplate 
any  other  plan.  But  on  the  means  of  providing  for  his  succession  Harley 
and  Bolingbroke  differed  widely.  Harley  inclined  to  an  alliance  between 
the  moderate  Tories  and  the  Whigs.  The  policy  of  Bolingbroke,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  so  to  strengthen  the  Tories  by  the  utter  overthrow  of 
their  opponents,  that  whatever  might  be  the  Elector's  sympathies  they 
could  force  their  policy  on  him  as  King.  To  ruin  his  rival's  influence 
he  introduced  a  Schism  Bill,  which  hindered  any  Nonconformist 
from  acting  as  a  schoolmaster  or  a  tutor ;  and  which  broke  Harley's 
plans  by  creating  a  more  bitter  division  than  ever  between  Tory  and 


720 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Whig.  But  its  success  went  beyond  his  intentions.  The  Whigs  re- 
garded the  Bill  as  the  first  step  in  a  Jacobite  restoration.  The  Electress 
Sophia  was  herself  alarmed,  and  the  Hanoverian  ambassador  de- 
manded for  the  son  of  the  Elector,  the  future  George  the  Second,  who 
had  been  created  Duke  of  Cambridge,  a  summons  as  peer  to  the  coming 
Parliament,  with  the  aim  of  securing  the  presence  in  England  of  a 
Hanoverian  Prince  in  case  of  the  Queen's  death.  The  Queen's  anger, 
fanned  by  Bolingbroke,  broke  out  in  a  letter  to  the  Electress  which 
warned  her  that  "  such  conduct  may  imperil  the  succession  itself ; " 
and  in  July  Anne  was  brought  to  dismiss  Harley,  now  Earl  of  Oxford, 
and  to  construct  a  strong  and  united  Tory  Ministry  which  would  back 
her  in  her  resistance  to  the  Elector's  demand.  As  the  crisis  grew 
nearer,  both  parties  prepared  for  civil  war.  In  the  beginning  of  17 14 
the  Whigs  had  made  ready  for  a  rising  on  the  Queen's  death,  and 
invited  Marlborough  from  Flanders  to  head  them,  in  the  hope  that  his 
name  would  r^lly  the  army  to  their  cause.  Bolingbroke,  on  the  other 
hand,  intent  on  building  up  a  strong  Tory  party,  made  the  Duke  of 
Ormond,  whose  sympathies  were  known  to  be  in  favour  of  the  Pre- 
tender's succession.  Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  the  district  in  which 
either  claimant  of  the  crown  must  land,  while  he  gave  Scotland  in 
charge  to  the  Jacobite  Earl  of  Mar.  But  events  moved  faster  than  his 
plans.  Anne  was  suddenly  struck  with  apoplexy.  The  Privy  Council 
at  once  assembled,  and  at  the  news  the  Whig  Dukes  of  Argyll  and 
Somerset  entered  the  Council  Chamber  without  summons  and  took 
their  places  at  the  board.  The  step  had  been  taken  in  secret  concert 
with  the  Duke  of  Shrewsbury,  who  was  President  of  the  Council  in  the 
Tory  Ministry,  but  a  rival  of  Bolingbroke  and  an  adherent  of  the 
Hanoverian  succession.  The  act  was  a  decisive  one.  The  right  of  the 
House  of  Hanover  was  at  once  acknowledged,  Shrewsbury  was  nomi- 
nated as  Lord  Treasurer  by  the  Council,  and  the  nominat.on  was 
accepted  by  the  dying  Queen.  Bolingbroke,  though  he  remained 
Secretary  of  State,  suddenly  found  himself  powerless  and  neglected, 
while  the  Council  took  steps  to  provide  for  the  emergency.  Four 
regiments  were  summoned  to  the  capital  in  the  expectation  of  a  civil 
war.  But  the  Jacobites  were  hopeless  and  unprepared ;  and  on  the 
death  of  Anne  the  Elector  George  of  Hanover,  who  had  become  heir  to 
the  throne  by  his  mother's  death,  was  proclaimed  King  of  England 
without  a  show  of  opposition. 


Section  X.-Walpole,  17ia-174a. 

[Authorities.— Coxe's  Life  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  Horace  Walpoles 
*•  Memoirs  of  the  Reign  of  George  II.,"  and  Lord  Hervey's  amusing  Memoirs 
from  the  accession  of  George  II.  to  the  death  of  Queen  Caroline,  give  the 
main  materials  on  one  side  ;  Bolingbroke's  Letter  to  Sir  William  Wyndhana, 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


721 


his  "Patriot  King,"  and  his  correspondence  afford  some  insight  into  the  other. 
Horace  Walpole's  Letters  to  Sir  Horace  Mann  give  a  minute  account  of  his 
father's  fall.  A  sober  and  judicious  account  of  the  whole  period  may  be  found 
in  Lord  Stanhope's  "  History  of  England  from  the  Peace  of  Utrecht."] 

The  accession  of  George  the  First  marked  a  change  in  the  position 
of  England  in  the  European  Commonwealth.  From  the  age  of  the 
Plantagenets  the  country  had  stood  apart  from  more  than  passing 
contact  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Continent.  But  the  Revolution  had 
forced  her  to  join  the  Great  Alliance  of  the  European  peoples  ;  and 
shameful  as  were  some  of  its  incidents,  the  Peace  of  Utrecht  left  her 
the  main  barrier  against  the  ambition  of  the  House  of  Bourbon.  And 
not  only  did  the  Revolution  set  England  irrevocably  among  the  powers 
of  Europe,  but  it  assigned  her  a  special  place  among  them.  The  result 
of  the  alliance  and  the  war  had  been  to  establish  what  was  then  called 
a  "  balance  of  power  "  between  the  great  European  states  ;  a  balance 
which  rested  indeed  not  so  much  on  any  natural  equilibrium  of  forces 
as  on  a  compromise  wrung  from  warring  nations  by  the  exhaustion  of 
a  great  struggle ;  but  which,  once  recognized  and  established,  could 
be  adapted  and  readjusted,  it  was  hoped,  to  the  varying  political  con- 
ditions of  the  time.  Of  this  balance  of  power,  as  recognized  and 
defined  in  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht  and  its  successors,  England  became 
the  special  guardian.  The  stubborn  policy  of  the  Georgian  statesmen 
has  left  its  mark  on  our  policy  ever  since.  In  struggling  for  peace  and 
for  the  sanctity  of  treaties,  even  though  the  struggle  was  one  of  selfish 
interest,  England  took  a  ply  which  she  has  never  wholly  lost.  Warlike 
and  imperious  as  is  her  national  temper,  she  has  never  been  able  to 
free  herself  from  a  sense  that  her  business  in  the  world  is  to  seek  peace 
alike  for  herself  and  for  the  nations  about  her,  and  that  the  best 
security  for  peace  lies  in  her  recognition,  amidst  whatever  difficulties 
and  seductions,  of  the  force  of  international  engagements  and  the 
sanctity  of  treaties. 

At  home  the  new  King's  accession  was  followed  by  striking  political 
results.  Under  Anne  the  throne  had  regained  much  of  the  older 
influence  which  it  lost  through  William's  unpopularity  ;  but  under 
the  two  sovereigns  who  followed  Anne  the  power  of  the  Crown  lay 
absolutely  dormant.  They  were  strangers,  to  whom  loyalty  in  its 
personal  sense  was  impossible  ;  and  their  character  as  nearly 
approached  insignificance  as  it  is  possible  for  human  character  to 
approach  it.  Both  were  honest  and  straightforward  men,  who  frankly 
accepted  the  irksome  position  of  constitutional  kings.  But  neither  had 
any  qualities  which  could  make  their  honesty  attractive  to  the  people 
at  large.  The  temper  of  George  the  First  was  that  of  a  gentleman 
usher;  and  his  one  care  was  to  get  money  for  his  favourites  and 
himself.     The  temper  of  George  the  Second  was  that  of  a  drill- 


723 


HISIORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


sergeant,  who  believed  himself  master  of  his  realm  while  he  repeated 
the  lessons  he  had  learnt  from  his  wife,  and  which  his  wife  had  learnt 
from  the  Minister.  Their  Court  is  familiar  enough  in  the  witty 
memoirs  of  the  time ;  but  as  political  figures  the  two  Georges  are 
almost  absent  from  our  history.  William  of  Orange  had  not  only  used 
the  power  of  rejecting  bills  passed  by  the  two  Houses,  but  had  kept  in 
his  own  hands  the  control  of  foreign  affairs.  Anne  had  never  yielded 
even  to  Marlborough  her  exclusive  right  of  dealing  with  Church  pre- 
ferment, and  had  presided  to  the  last  at  the  Cabinet  Councils  of  her 
ministers.  But  with  the  accession  of  the  Georges  these  reserves  passed 
away.  No  sovereign  since  Anne's  death  has  appeared  at  a  Cabinet 
Council,  or  has  ventured  to  refuse  his  assent  to  an  Act  of  Parliament 
As  Elector  of  Hanover  indeed  the  King  still  dealt  with  Continental 
affairs :  but  his  personal  interference  roused  an  increasing  jealousy, 
while  it  affected  in  a  very  slight  degree  the  foreign  policy  of  his 
English  counsellors.  England,  in  short,  was  governed  not  by  the  King, 
but  by  the  Whig  ministers  of  the  Crown.  N  or  had  the  Whigs  to  fear 
any  effective  pressure  from  their  political  opponents.  "  The  Tory  party," 
Bolingbroke  wrote  after  Anne's  death,  "is  gone."  In  the  first  House 
of  Commons  indeed  which  was  called  by  the  new  King,  the  Tories 
hardly  numbered  fifty  members  ;  while  a  fatal  division  broke  their 
strength  in  the  country  at  large.  In  their  despair  the  more  vehement 
among  them  turned  to  the  Pretender.  Lord  Oxford  was  impeached 
and  sent  to  the  Tower ;  Bolingbroke  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond  fled 
from  England  to  take  office  under  the  son  of  King  James.  At  home 
Sir  WiUiam  Wyndham  seconded  their  efforts  by  building  up  a  Jacobite 
faction  out  of  the  wreck  of  the  Tory  party.  The  Jacobite  secession 
gave  little  help  to  the  Pretender,  while  it  dealt  a  fatal  blow  to  the 
Tory  cause.  England  was  still  averse  from  a  return  of  the  Stuarts  ; 
and  the  suspicion  of  Jacobite  designs  not  only  alienated  the  trading 
classes,  who  shrank  from  the  blow  to  public  credit  which  a  Jacobite 
repudiation  of  the  debt  would  bring  about,  but  deadened  the  zeal 
even  of  the  parsons  and  squires ;  while  it  was  known  to  have  sown 
a  deep  distrust  of  the  whole  Tory  party  in  the  heart  of  the  new 
sovereign.  The  Crown  indeed  now  turned  to  the  Whigs  ;  while  the 
Church,  which  up  to  this  time  had  been  the  main  stumbling-block 
of  their  party,  was  sinking  into  political  insignificance  and  was 
no  longer  a  formidable  enemy.  For  more  than  thirty  years  the 
Whigs  ruled  England.  But  the  length  of  their  rule  was  not  wholly 
due  to  the  support  of  the  Crown  or  the  secession  of  the  Tories.  It 
was  in  some  measure  due  to  the  excellent  organization  of  their  party. 
While  their  adversaries  were  divided  by  differences  of  principle  and 
without  leaders  of  real  eminence,  the  Whigs  stood  as  one  man  on  the 
principles  of  the  Revolution  and  produced  great  leaders  who  carried 
them  into  effect.     They  submitted  with  admirable  discipline  to  the 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


723 


guidance  of  a  knot  of  great  nobles,  to  the  houses  of  Bentinck,  Manners, 
Campbell,  and  Cavendish,  to  the  Fitzroys  and  Lennoxes,  the  Russells 
and  Grenvilles,  families  whose  resistance  to  the  Stuarts,  whose  share 
in  the  Revolution,  whose  energy  in  setting  the  line  of  Hanover  on  the 
throne,  gave  them  a  claim  to  power.  It  was  due  yet  more  largely  to 
the  activity  with  which  the  Whigs  devoted  the  iiselves  to  the  gaining 
and  preserving  an  ascendency  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The 
support  of  the  commercial  classes  and  of  the  great  towns  was  secured 
not  only  by  a  resolute  maintenance  of  public  credit,  but  by  the  special 
attention  which  each  ministry  paid  to  questions  of  trade  and  finance. 
Peace  and  the  reduction  of  the  land-tax  conciliated  the  farmers  and 
the  landowners,  while  the  Jacobite  sympathies  of  the  bulk  of  the 
squires,  and  their  consequent  withdrawal  from  all  share  in  politics, 
threw  even  the  representation  of  the  shires  for  a  time  into  Whig 
hands.  Of  the  county  members,  who  formed  the  less  numerous  but 
the  weightier  part  of  the  lower  House,  nine-tenths  were  for  some  years 
relatives  and  dependents  of  the  great  Whig  families.  Nor  were  coarser 
means  of  controlling  Parliament  neglected.  The  wealth  of  the  Whig 
houses  was  lavishly  spent  in  securing  a  monopoly  of  the  small  and 
corrupt  constituencies  which  made  up  a  large  part  of  the  borough 
representation.  It  was  spent  yet  more  unscrupulously  in  parhamentary 
bribery.  Corruption  was  older  than  Walpole  or  the  Whig  Ministry, 
for  it  sprang  out  of  the  very  transfer  of  power  to  the  House  of  Commons 
which  had  begun  with  the  Restoration.  The  transfer  was  complete, 
and  the  House  was  supreme  in  the  State  ;  but  while  freeing  itself  from 
the  control  of  the  Crown,  it  was  as  yet  imperfectly  responsible  to  the 
people.  It  was  only  at  election  time  that  a  member  felt  the  pressure 
of  public  opinion.  The  secrecy  of  parliamentary  proceedings,  which 
had  been  needful  as  a  safeguard  against  royal  interference  with  debate, 
served  as  a  safeguard  against  interference  on  the  part  of  constituencies. 
This  strange  union  of  immense  power  with  absolute  freedom  from 
responsibility  brought  about  its  natural  results  in  the  bulk  of  members. 
A  vote  was  too  valuable  to  be  given  without  recompense  ;  and  parha- 
mentary support  had  to  be  bought  by  places,  pensions,  and  bribes  in 
hard  cash.  But  dexterous  as  was  their  management,  and  compact  as 
was  their  organization,  it  was  to  nobler  qualities  than  these  that  the 
Whigs  owed  their  long  rule  over  England.  They  were  true  throughout 
to  the  principles  on  which  they  had  risen  into  power,  and  their  unbroken 
administration  converted  those  principles  into  national  habits.  Before 
their  long  rule  was  over.  Englishmen  had  forgotten  that  it  was  possible 
to  persecute  for  difference  of  opinion,  or  to  put  down  the  liberty  of  the 
press,  or  to  tamper  with  the  administration  of  justice,  or  to  rule  without 
a  Parliament. 

That  this  policy  was  so  firmly  grasped  and  so  steadily  carried  out  was 
due  above  all  to  the  genius  of  Robert  Walpole.  Born  in  1676,  he  entered 


724 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Parliament  two  years  before  William's  death  as  a  young  Norfolk  land- 
owner of  fair  fortune,  with  the  tastes  and  air  of  the  class  from  which  he 
sprang.  His  big  square  figure,  his  vulgar  good-humoured  face  were 
those  of  a  common  country  squire.  And  in  Walpole  the  squire  underlay 
the  statesman  to  the  last.  He  was  ignorant  of  books,  he  "  loved  neither 
writing  nor  reading,"  and  if  he  had  a  taste  for  art,  his  real  love  was  for 
the  table,  the  bottle,  and  the  chase.  He  rode  as  hard  as  he  drank. 
Even  in  moments  of  political  peril,  the  first  despatch  he  would  open 
was  the  letter  from  his  gamekeeper.  There  was  the  temper  of  the 
Norfolk  fox-hunter  in  the  "  doggedness  "  which  Marlborough  noted  as 
his  characteristic,  in  the  burly  self-confidence  which  declared  "  If  I 
had  not  been  Prime  Minister  I  should  have  been  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,"  in  the  stubborn  courage  which  conquered  the  awkward- 
ness of  his  earlier  efforts  to  speak,  or  met  single-handed  at  the  last  the 
bitter  attacks  of  a  host  of  enemies.  There  was  the  same  temper  in  the 
genial  good-humour  which  became  with  him  a  new  force  in  politics. 
No  man  was  ever  more  fiercely  attacked  by  speakers  and  writers,  but 
he  brought  in  no  "  gagging  Act  "  for  the  press  ;  and  though  the  lives  of 
most  of  his  assailants  were  in  his  hands  through  their  intrigues  with  the 
Pretender,  he  made  little  use  of  his  power  over  them.  Where  his 
country  breeding  showed  itself  most,  however,  was  in  the  shrewd, 
narrow,  honest  character  of  his  mind.  Though  he  saw  very  clearly, 
he  could  not  see  far,  and  he  would  not  believe  what  he  could  not  see. 
He  was  thoroughly  straightforward  and  true  to  his  own  convictions,  so 
far  as  they  went.  "  Robin  and  I  are  two  honest  men,"  the  Jacobite 
Shippen  owned  in  later  years,  when  contrasting  him  with  his  factious 
opponents:  "he  is  for  King  George  and  I  am  for  King  James,  but  those 
men  with  long  cravats  only  desire  place  either  under  King  George  or 
King  James."  He  saw  the  value  of  the  political  results  which  the 
Revolution  had  won,  and  he  carried  out  his  "  Revolution  principles  " 
with  a  rare  fidelity  through  years  of  unquestioned  power.  But  his 
prosaic  good  sense  turned  sceptically  away  from  the  poetic  and 
passionate  sides  of  human  feeling.  Appeals  to  the  loftier  or  purer 
motives  of  action  he  laughed  at  as  "  school-boy  flights."  For  young 
members  who  talked  of  public  virtue  or  patriotism  he  had  one  good- 
natured  answer :  "  You  will  soon  come  off  that  and  grow  wiser." 

How  great  a  part  Walpole  was  to  play  no  one  could  as  yet  focesee. 
Though  his  vigour  in  the  cause  of  his  party  had  earned  him  the  bitter 
hostility  of  the  Tories  in  the  later  years  of  Anne,  and  a  trumped-up 
charge  of  peculation  had  served  in  1712  as  a  pretext  for  expelling  him 
from  the  House  and  committing  him  to  the  Tower,  at  the  accession 
of  George  the  First  Walpole  was  far  from  holding  the  commanding 
position  he  was  soon  to  assume.  The  first  Hanoverian  Ministry  was 
drawn  wholly  from  the  Whig  party,  but  its  leaders  and  Marlborough 
found  themselves  alike  set  aside.      The  direction  of  affairs  was  en- 


rx.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


72s 


trusted  to  the  new  Secretary  of  State,  Lord  Townshend ;  his  fellow 
Secretary  was  General  Stanhope,  who  was  raised  to  the  peerage.  It 
was  as  Townshend's  brother-in-law,  rather  than  from  a  sense  of  his 
actual  ability,  that  Walpole  successively  occupied  the  posts  of  Pay- 
master of  the  Forces,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and  First  Lord 
of  the  Treasury,  in  the  new  administration.  The  first  work  of  the 
Ministry  was  to  meet  a  desperate  attempt  of  the  Pretender  to  gain 
the  throne.  There  was  no  real  prospect  of  success,  for  the  active 
Jacobites  in  England  were  few,  and  the  Tories  were  broken  and 
dispirited  by  the  fall  of  their  leaders.  The  death  of  Lewis  ruined 
all  hope  of  aid  from  France ;  the  hope  of  Swedish  aid  proved  as 
fruitless ;  but  in  spite  of  Bolingbroke's  counsels  James  Stuart  resolved 
to  act  alone.  Without  informing  his  new  minister,  he  ordered  the  Earl 
of  Mar  to  give  the  signal  for  revolt  in  the  North.  In  Scotland  the 
triumph  of  the  Whigs  meant  the  continuance  of  the  House  of  Argyll 
in  power,  and  the  rival  Highland  clans  were  as  ready  to  fight  the 
Campbells  under  Mar  as  they  had  been  ready  to  fight  them  under 
Dundee  or  Montrose.  But  Mar  was  a  leader  of  different  stamp  from 
these.  Six  thousand  Highlanders  joined  him  at  Perth,  but  his  cowar- 
dice or  want  of  conduct  kept  his  army  idle,  till  Argyll  had  gathered 
forces  to  meet  it  in  an  indecisive  engagement  at  Sheriffmuir.  The 
Pretender,  who  arrived  too  late  for  the  action,  proved  a  yet  more 
sluggish  and  incapable  leader  than  Mar :  and  at  the  close  of  17 15  the 
advance  of  fresh  forces  drove  James  over-sea  again  and  dispersed  the 
clans  to  their  hills.  In  England  the  danger  passed  away  like  a  dream. 
The  accession  of  the  new  King  had  been  followed  by  some  outbreaks 
of  riotous  discontent ;  but  at  the  talk  of  Highland  risings  and  French 
invasions  Tories  and  Whigs  alike  rallied  round  the  throne  ;  while  the 
army  went  hotly  for  King  George.  The  suspension  of  the  Habeas 
Corpus  Act,  and  the  arrest  of  their  leader,  Sir  William  Wyndham, 
cowed  the  Jacobites  ;  and  not  a  man  stirred  in  the  west  when  Ormond 
appeared  off  the  coast  of  Devon,  and  called  on  his  party  to  rise. 
Oxford  alone,  where  the  University  was  a  hotbed  of  Jacobitism,  showed 
itself  restless  ;  and  a  few  of  the  Catholic  gentry  rose  in  Northumber- 
land, under  Lord  Derwentwater  and  Mr.  Forster.  The  arrival  of  two 
thousand  Highlanders  who  had  been  sent  to  join  them  by  Mar  spurred 
them  to  a  march  into  Lancashire,  where  the  Catholic  party  was 
strongest ;  but  they  were  soon  cooped  up  in  Preston,  and  driven  to  a 
surrender.  The  Ministry  availed  itself  of  its  triumph  to  gratify  the 
Nonconformists  by  a  repeal  of  the  Schism  and  Occasional  Conformity- 
Acts,  and  to  venture  on  a  great  constitutional  change.  Under  the 
Triennial  Bill  in  William's  reign  the  duration  of  a  Parliament  was 
limited  to  three  years.  Now  that  the  House  of  Commons  however 
was  become  the  ruling  power  in  the  State,  a  change  was  absolutely 
required  to  secure  steadiness  and  fixity  of  political  action ;  and  in 


726 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


17 16  this  necessity  coincided  with  the  desire  of  the  Whigs  to  main- 
tain in  power  a  thoroughly  Whig  Parliament.  The  duration  of 
Parliament  was  therefore  extended  to  seven  years  by  the  Septennial 
Bill.  But  the  Jacobite  rising  brought  about  a  yet  more  momentous 
change  in  English  policy  abroad.  At  the  moment  when  the  landing 
of  James  in  Scotland  had  quickened  the  anxiety  of  King  George  that 
France  should  be  wholly  detached  from  his  cause,  the  actual  state  of 
European  politics  aided  to  bring  about  a  new  triple  alliance  between 
France,  England,  and  Holland. 

Since  the  death  of  Lewis  the  Fourteenth  in  171 5  France  had  been 
ruled  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans  as  Regent  for  the  young  King,  Lewis  the 
Fifteenth.  The  Duke  stood  next  in  the  succession  to  the  crown,  if 
Philip  of  Spain  observed  the  renunciation  of  his  rights  which  he  had 
made  in  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht.  It  was  well  known,  however,  that 
Philip  had  no  notion  of  observing  this  renunciation,  and  the  constant 
dream  of  every  Spaniard  was  to  recover  all  that  Spain  had  given  up. 
To  attempt  this  was  to  defy  Europe  ;  for  Savoy  had  gained  Sicily  ; 
the  Emperor  held  the  Netherlands,  Naples,  and  the  Milanese ;  Holland 
looked  on  the  Barrier  fortresses  as  vital  to  its  own  security ;  while 
England  clung  tenaciously  to  the  American  trade.  But  the  boldness 
of  Cardinal  Alberoni,  who  was  now  the  Spanish  Minister,  accepted 
the  risk  ;  and  while  his  master  was  intriguing  against  the  Regent  in 
France,  Alberoni  promised  aid  to  the  Jacobite  cause  as  a  means  of 
preventing  the  interference  of  England  with  his  designs.  His  first 
attempt  was  to  recover  the  Italian  provinces  which  Philip  had  lost, 
and  armaments  greater  than  Spain  had  seen  for  a  century  reduced 
Sardinia  in  17 17.  England  and  France  at  once  drew  together  and 
entered  into  a  compact  by  which  France  guaranteed  the  succes- 
sion of  the  House  of  Hanover  in  England,  and  England  the  succession 
of  the  House  of  Orleans,  should  Lewis  the  Fifteenth  die  without  heirs  ; 
and  the  two  powers  were  joined,  though  unwillingly,  by  Holland.  When 
in  the  summer  of  17 18  a  strong  Spanish  force  landed  in  Sicily,  and 
made  itself  master  of  the  island,  the  appearance  of  an  English 
squadron  in  the  Straits  of  Messina  was  followed  by  an  engagement 
in  which  the  Spanish  fleet  was  all  but  destroyed.  Alberoni  strove 
to  avenge  the  blow  by  fitting  out  an  armament  which  the  Duke  of 
Ormond  was  to  command  for  a  revival  of  the  Jacobite  rising  in 
Scotland.  But  the  ships  were  wrecked  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay ;  and 
the  accession  of  Austria  with  Savoy  to  the  Triple  Alliance  left  Spain 
alone  in  the  face  of  Europe.  The  progress  of  the  French  armies 
in  the  north  of  Spain  forced  Philip  at  last  to  give  way.  Alberoni 
was  dismissed  ;  and  the  Spanish  forces  were  withdrawn  from  Sardinia 
and  Sicily.  The  last  of  these  islands  now  passed  to  the  Emperor, 
Savoy  being  compensated  for  its  loss  by  the  acquisition  of  Sardinia, 
from  which  its  Duke  took  the  title  of  King ;  while  the  work  of  the 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


737 


Treaty  of  Utrecht  was  completed  by  the  Emperor's  renunciation  of 
his  claims  on  the  crown  of  Spain,  and  Phihp's  renunciation  of  his 
claims  on  the  Milanese  and  the  two  Sicilies. 

The  struggle  however  had  shown  the  difficulties  which  the  double 
position  of  its  sovereign  was  to  bring  on  England.  In  his  own  mind 
George  cared  more  for  the  interests  of  his  Electorate  of  Hanover  than 
of  his  kingdom  ;  and  these  were  now  threatened  by  Charles  XII.  of 
Sweden,  whose  anger  had  been  roused  at  the  cession  to  Hanover  of 
the  Swedish  possessions  of  Bremen  and  Verden  by  the  King  of  Den- 
mark, who  had  seized  them  while  Charles  was  absent  in  Turkey. 
The  despatch  of  a  British  fleet  into  the  Baltic  to  overawe  Sweden 
identified  England  with  the  policy  of  Hanover,  and  Charles  retorted  by 
joining  with  Alberoni,  and  by  concluding  an  alliance  with  the  Czar, 
Peter  the  Great,  for  a  restoration  of  the  Stuarts.  Luckily  for  the  new 
dynasty  his  plans  were  brought  to  an  end  by  his  death  at  the  siege  of 
Frederickshall  ;  but  the  policy  which  provoked  them  had  already 
brought  about  the  dissolution  of  the  Ministry.  In  assenting  to  a 
treaty  of  alliance  with  Hanover  against  Sweden,  they  had  yielded  to 
the  fact  that  Bremen  and  Verden  were  not  only  of  the  highest  import- 
ance to  Hanover,  which  was  thus  brought  into  contact  with  the  sea, 
but  of  hardly  less  value  to  England,  as  they  secured  the  mouths  of 
the  Elbe  and  the  Weser,  the  chief  inlets  for  British  commerce  into 
Germany,  in  the  hands  of  a  friendly  state.  But  they  refused  to  go 
further  in  carrying  out  a  Hanoverian  policy  ;  the  anger  of  the 
King  was  seconded  by  intrigues  among  the  ministers  ;  and  in  17 17 
Townshend  and  Walpole  had  been  forced  to  resign  their  posts.  In 
the  reconstituted  cabinet  Lords  Sunderland  and  Stanhope  remained 
supreme  ;  and  their  first  aim  was  to  secure  the  maintenance  of 
the  Whig  power  by  a  constitutional  change.  Harley's  creation  of 
twelve  peers  to  ensure  the  sanction  of  the  Lords  to  the  Treaty  of 
Utrecht  showed  that  the  Crown  possessed  a  power  of  swamping  the 
majority  in  the  House  of  Peers.  In  1720  therefore  the  Ministry  intro- 
duced a  bill,  suggested  as  was  believed  by  Sunderland,  which  professed 
to  secure  the  liberty  of  the  Upper  House  by  limiting  the  power  of  the 
Crown  in  the  creation  of  fresh  Peers.  The  number  of  Peers  was  per- 
manently fixed  at  the  number  then  sitting  in  the  House  ;  and  creations 
could  only  be  made  when  vacancies  occurred.  Twenty-five  hereditary 
Scotch  Peers  were  substituted  for  the  sixteen  elected  Peers  for  Scotland. 
The  bill  however  was  strenuously  opposed  by  Walpole.  It  would  in 
fact  have  rendered  representative  government  impossible.  For  repre- 
sentative government  was  now  coming  day  by  day  more  completely  to 
mean  government  by  the  will  of  the  House  of  Commons,  carried  out 
by  a  Ministry  which  served  as  the  mouthpiece  of  that  will.  But  it  was 
only  through  the  prerogative  of  the  Crown,  as  exercized  under  the 
advice  of  such  a  Ministry,  that  the  Peers  could  be  forced  to  bow  to  the 


728 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


will  of  the  Lower  House  in  matters  where  their  opinion  was  adverse  to 
it ;  and  the  proposal  of  Sunderland  would  have  brought  legislation  and 
government  to  a  dead  lock.  The  Peerage  Bill  owed  its  defe«^,.  to 
Walpole's  opposition  ;  and  his  rivals  were  forced  to  admit  him,  with 
Townshend,  into  the  Ministry,  though  they  held  subordinate  places. 
But  this  soon  gave  way  to  a  more  natural  arrangement.  The  sudden 
increase  of  English  commerce  begot  at  this  moment  the  mania  of 
speculation.  Ever  since  the  age  of  Elizabeth  the  unknown  wealth 
of  Spanish  America  had  acted  like  a  spell  upon  the  imagination 
of  Englishmen ;  and  Harley  gave  countenance  to  a  South  Sea  Com- 
pany, which  promised  a  reduction  of  the  public  debt  as  the  price 
of  a  monopoly  of  the  Spanish  trade.  Spain  however  clung  jealously 
to  her  old  prohibitions  of  all  foreign  commerce  ;  and  the  Treaty 
of  Utrecht  only  won  for  England  the  right  of  engaging  in  the  negro 
slave-trade,  and  of  despatching  a  single  ship  to  the  coast  of  Spanish 
America.  But  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  Company  again  came  forward, 
offering  in  exchange  for  new  privileges  to  pay  off  national  burdens 
which  amounted  to  nearly  a  million  a  year.  It  was  in  vain  that 
Walpole  warned  the  Ministry  and  the  country  against  this  "  dre^fln." 
Both  went  mad  ;  and  in  1720  bubble  Company  followed  bubble  Com- 
pany, till  the  inevitable  reaction  brought  a  general  ruin  in  its  train. 
The  crash  brought  Stanhope  to  the  grave.  Of  his  colleagues,  many 
were  found  to  have  received  bribes  from  the  South  Sea  Company 
to  back  its  frauds.  Craggs,  the  Secretary  of  State,  died  of  terror  at 
the  investigation  ;  Aislabie,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  was  sent 
to  the  Tower  ;  and  in  the  general  wreck  of  his  rivals  Walpole  mounted 
again  into  power.  In  172 1  he  became  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury, 
while  Townshend  returned  to  his  post  of  Secretary  of  State.  But 
their  relative  position  was  now  reversed.  Townshend  had  been  the 
head  in  their  earlier  administration  :  in  this  Walpole  was  resolved,  to 
use  his  own  characteristic  phrase,  that  "  the  firm  should  be  Walpole 
and  Townshend  and  not  Townshend  and  Walpole." 

If  no  Minister  has  fared  worse  at  the  hands  of  poets  and  historians, 
there  are  few  whose  greatness  has  been  more  impartially  recognized  by 
practical  statesmen.  The  years  of  his  power  indeed  are  years  without 
parallel  in  our  history  for  political  stagnation.  His  long  administration 
of  more  than  twenty  years  is  almost  without  a  history.  All  legislative  and 
political  activity  seemed  to  cease  with  his  entry  into  office.  Year  after 
year  passed  by  without  a  change.  In  the  third  year  of  his  Ministry  there 
was  but  one  division  in  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Tory  members 
were  so  few  that  for  a  time  they  hardly  cared  to  attend  its  sittings  ; 
and  in  1722  the  loss  of  Bishop  Atterbury  of  Rochester,  who  was  con- 
victed of  correspondence  with  the  Pretender,  deprived  of  his  bishopric, 
and  banished  by  Act  of  Parliament,  deprived  the  Jacobites  of  their 
only  remaining  leader.     Walpole's  one  care  was  to  maintain  the  quiet 


IX.] 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


72f 


which  was  reconciling  the  country  to  the  system  of  the  Revolution. 
But  this  inaction  fell  in  with  the  temper  of  the  nation  at  large.  It  was 
popular  with  the  class  which  commonly  presses  for  political  activity. 
The  energy  of  the  trading  class  was  absorbed  in  the  rapid  extension  of 
commerce  and  accumulation  of  wealth.  So  long  as  the  country  was 
justly  and  temperately  governed  the  merchant  and  shopkeeper  were 
content  to  leave  government  in  the  hands  that  held  it.  All  they  asked 
was  to  be  let  alone  to  enjoy  their  new  freedom,  and  develope  their  new 
fndustries.  And  Walpole  let  them  alone.  Progress  became  material 
rather  than  political,  but  the  material  progress  of  the  country  was  such 
as  England  had  never  seen  before.  The  work  of  keeping  England 
quiet  and  of  giving  quiet  to  Europe,  was  in  itself  a  noble  one  ;  and  it  is 
the  temper  with  which  he  carried  on  this  work  which  gives  Walpole  his 
place  among  Enghsh  statesmen.  He  was  the  first  and  he  was  the 
most  successful  of  our  Peace  Ministers.  "  The  most  pernicious  circum- 
stances," he  said,  "  in  which  this  country  can  be  are  those  of  war ;  as 
we  must  be  losers  while  it  lasts,  and  cannot  be  great  gainers  when  it 
ends."  It  was  not  that  the  honour  or  influence  of  England  suffered 
in  his  hands,  for  he  won  victories  by  the  firmness  of  his  policy  and 
the  skill  of  his  negotiations  as  effectual  as  any  which  are  won  by  arms. 
But  in  spite  of  the  complications  of  foreign  affairs,  and  the  pressure  from 
the  Court  and  the  Opposition,  it  is  the  glory  of  Walpole  that  he  reso- 
lutely kept  England  at  peace.  Peace  indeed  was  hard  to  maintain.  The 
Emperor  Charles  the  Sixth  had  issued  a  Pragmatic  Sanction,  by  which 
he  provided  that  his  hereditary  dominions  should  descend  unbroken  to 
his  daughter,  Maria  Theresa  ;  but  no  European  State  had  yet  consented 
to  guarantee  her  succession.  Spain,  still  resolute  to  regain  her  lost 
possessions,  and  her  old  monopoly  of  trade  with  her  American  colonies, 
seized  the  opportunity  of  detaching  the  Emperor  from  the  alliance  of 
the  Four  Powers,  which  left  her  isolated  in  Europe.  She  promised  to 
support  the  Pragmatic  Sanction  in  return  for  a  pledge  from  Charles 
to  aid  in  wresting  Gibraltar  and  Minorca  from  England,  and  in  securing 
to  a  Spanish  prince  the  succession  to  Parma,  Piacenza,  and  Tuscany. 
A  grant  of  the  highest  trading  privileges  in  her  American  dominions 
to  a  commercial  company  which  the  Emperor  had  established  at 
Ostend,  in  defiance  of  the  Treaty  of  Westphalia  and  the  remonstrances 
of  England  and  Holland,  revealed  this  secret  alliance  ;  and  there  were 
fears  of  the  adhesion  of  Russia.  The  danger  was  met  for  a  while  by 
an  alliance  of  England,  France,  and  Prussia  ;  but  the  withdrawal  of 
the  last  Power  again. gave  courage  to  *iie  confederates,  and  in  1727 
the  Spaniards  besieged  Gibraltar,  while  Charles  threatened  an  invasion 
of  Holland.  The  moderation  of  Walpole  alone  averted  a  European 
war.  While  sending  British  squadrons  to  the  Baltic,  the  Spanish 
coast,  and  America,  he  succeeded  by  diplomatic  pressure  in  again 
forcing  the  Emperor  to  inaction  ;  Spain  was  at  last  brought  to  sign 


730 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  Treaty  of  Seville,  and  to  content  herself  with  a  promise  of  the 
succession  of  a  Spanish  prince  to  the  Duchies  of  Parma  and  Tuscany ; 
and  the  discontent  of  Charles  at  this  concession  was  allayed  in  1731 
by  giving  the  guarantee  of  England  to  the  Pragmatic  Sanction. 

As  Walpole  was  the  first  of  our  Peace  Ministers,  so  he  was  the  first 
of  our  Financiers.  He  was  far  indeed  from  discerning  the  powers 
which  later  statesmen  have  shown  to  exist  in  a  sound  finance,  but  he 
had  the  sense  to  see,  what  no  minister  had  till  then  seen,  that  the 
wisest  course  a  statesman  can  take  in  presence  of  a  great  increase 
in  national  industry  and  national  wealth  is  to  look  quietly  on  and 
let  it  alone.  At  the  outset  of  his  rule  he  declared  in  a  speech 
from  the  Throne  that  nothing  would  more  conduce  to  the  exten- 
sion of  commerce  "  than  to  make  the  exportation  of  our  own 
manufactures,  and  the  importation  of  the  commodities  used  in 
the  manufacturing  of  them,  as  practicable  and  easy  as  may  be." 
The  first  act  of  his  financial  administration  was  to  take  off  the 
duties  from  more  than  a  hundred  British  exports,  and  nearly  forty 
articles  of  importation.  In  1730  he  broke  in  the  same  enlightened 
spirit  through  the  prejudice  which  restricted  the  commerce  of  the 
colonies  to  the  mother-country  alone,  by  allowing  Georgia  and  the 
Carolinas  to  export  their  rice  directly  to  any  part  of  Europe.  The  result 
was  that  the  rice  of  America  soon  drove  that  of  Italy  and  Egypt  from 
the  market.  His  Excise  Bill,  defective  as  it  was,  was  the  first  measure 
in  which  an  English  Minister  showed  any  real  grasp  of  the  principles 
of  taxation.  The  wisdom  of  Walpole  was  rewarded  by  a  quick  up- 
growth of  prosperity.  Our  exports,  which  were  six  millions  in  value  at 
the  beginning  of  the  century,  had  doubled  by  the  middle  of  it  The 
rapid  developement  of  the  Colonial  trade  gave  England  a  new  wealth. 
In  Manchester  and  Birmingham,  whose  manufactures  were  now  becom- 
ing of  importance,  population  doubled  in  thirty  years.  Bristol,  the  chief 
seat  of  the  West  Indian  trade,  rose  into  new  prosperity.  Liverpool,  which 
owes  its  creation  to  the  new  trade  with  the  West,  sprang  up  from  a 
little  country  town  into  the  third  port  in  the  kingdom.  With  peace  and 
security,  and  the  wealth  that  they  brought  with  them,  the  value  of  land, 
and  with  it  the  rental  of  every  country  gentleman,  rose  fast.  But  this 
up-growth  of  wealth  around  him  never  made  Walpole  swerve  from 
a  rigid  economy,  from  the  steady  reduction  of  the  debt,  or  the 
diminution  of  fiscal  duties.  Even  before  the  death  of  George  the 
First  the  public  burdens  were  reduced  by  twenty  millions. 

The  accession  of  George  the  Second  in  1727  seemed  to  give  a  fatal 
shock  to  Walpole's  power  ;  for  the  new  King  was  known  to  have  hated 
his  father's  Minister  hardly  less  than  he  had  hated  his  father.  But 
hate  Walpole  as  he  might,  the  King  was  absolutely  guided  by  the 
adroitness  of  his  wife,  Caroline  of  Anspach  ;  and  Caroline  had  resolved 
that  there  should  be  no  change  in  the  Ministry.     The  years  which 


1X.1 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


73 » 


followed  were  in  fact  those  in  which  Walpole's  power  reached  its 
height.  He  gained  as  great  an  influence  over  George  the  Second  as 
he  had  gained  over  his  father.  His  hold  over  the  House  of  Commons 
remained  unshaken.  The  country  was  tranquil  and  prosperous.  The 
prejudices  of  the  landed  gentry  were  met  by  a  steady  effort  to  reduce 
the  land-tax.  The  Church  was  quiet.  The  Jacobites  were  too  hopeless 
to  stir.  A  few  trade  measures  and  social  reforms  crept  quietly  through 
the  Houses.  An  inquiry  into  the  state  of  the  gaols  showed  that  social 
thought  was  not  utterly  dead.  A  bill  of  great  value  enacted  that  all 
proceedings  in  courts  of  justice  should  henceforth  be  in  the  English 
language.  Only  once  did  Walpole  break  this  tranquillity  by  an  attempt 
at  a  great  measure  of  statesmanship.  No  tax  had  from  the  first  moment 
of  its  introduction  been  more  unpopular  than  the  Excise.  Its  origin 
was  due  to  Pym  and  the  Long  Parliament,  who  imposed  duties  on 
beer,  cyder,  and  perry,  which  at  the  Restoration  produced  an  annual 
income  of  more  than  six  hundred  thousand  pounds.  The  war 
with  France  brought  with  it  the  malt-tax,  and  additional  duties  on 
spirits,  wine,  tobacco,  and  other  articles.  So  great  had  been  the 
increase  in  the  public  wealth  that  the  return  from  the  Excise 
amounted  at  the  death  of  George  the  First  to  nearly  two  millions 
and  a  half  a  year.  But  its  unpopularity  remained  unabated,  and 
even  philosophers  like  Locke  contended  that  the  whole  public  revenue 
should  be  drawn  from  direct  taxes  upon  the  land.  Walpole,  on  the 
other  hand,  saw  in  the  growth  of  indirect  taxation  a  means  of  winning 
over  the  country  gentry  to  the  new  dynasty  of  the  Revolution  by 
freeing  the  land  from  all  burdens  whatever.  Smuggling  and  fraud 
diminished  the  revenue  by  immense  sums.  The  loss  on  tobacco  alone 
amounted  to  a  third  of  the  whole  duty.  The  Excise  Bill  of  1733  met 
this  evil  by  the  establishment  of  bonded  warehouses,  and  by  the  collec- 
tion of  the  duties  from  the  inland  dealers  in  the  form  of  Excise  and 
not  of  Customs.  The  first  measure  would  have  made  London  a  free 
port,  and  doubled  English  trade.  The  second  would  have  so  largely 
increased  the  revenue,  without  any  loss  to  the  consumer,  as  to  enable 
Walpole  to  repeal  the  land-tax.  In  the  case  of  tea  and  coffee  alone, 
the  change  in  the  mode  of  levying  the  duty  was  estimated  to  bring  in 
an  additional  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year  The  necessaries  of 
life  and  the  raw  materials  of  manufacture  were  in  Walpole's  plan  to 
remain  absolutely  untaxed.  The  scheme  was  an  anticipation  of  the 
principles  which  have  guided  English  finance  since  the  triumph  of 
free  trade  ;  but  in  1733  Walpole  stood  ahead  of  his  time.  A  violent 
agitation  broke  out ;  riots  almost  grew  into  rev9lt ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
Queen's  wish  to  put  down  resistance  by  force,  Walpole  withdrew  the 
bill.  **  I  will  not  be  the  Minister,"  he  said  with  noble  self-command, 
**  to  enforce  taxes  at  the  expense  of  blood."  What  had  fanned  popular 
prejudice  into  a  flame  during   the   uproar  was   the   violence  of  the 


73« 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


so-called  "  Patriots."  In  the  absence  of  a  strong  opposition  and 
of  great  impulses  to  enthusiasm  a  party  breaks  readily  into  factions  ; 
and  the  weakness  of  the  Tories  joined  with  the  stagnation  of  public 
affairs  to  breed  faction  among  the  Whigs.  Walpole  too  was  jealous 
of  power ;  and  as  his  jealousy  drove  colleague  after  colleague  out  of 
office,  they  became  leaders  of  a  party  whose  sole  aim  was  to  thrust 
him  from  his  post.  Greed  of  power  indeed  was  the  one  passion  which 
mastered  his  robust  common-sense.  Townshend  was  turned  out  of 
office  in  1730,  Lord  Chesterfield  in  1733  ;  and  though  he  started  with 
the  ablest  administration  the  country  had  known,  Walpole  was  left 
after  twenty  years  of  supremacy  with  but  one  man  of  ability  in  his 
cabinet,  the  Chancellor,  Lord  Hardwicke.  With  the  single  exception 
of  Townshend,  the  colleagues  whom  his  jealousy  dismissed  plunged 
into  an  opposition  more  factious  and  unprincipled  than  has  ever  dis- 
graced Englibh  politics.  The  "  Patriots,"  as  they  called  themselves, 
owned  Pulteney  as  their  head;  they  were  reinforced  by. a  band  of 
younger  Whigs — the  "  Boys,"  as  Walpole  named  them — whose  temper 
revolted  alike  against  the  inaction  and  cynicism  of  his  policy,  and 
whose  spokesman  was  a  young  cornet  of  horse,  William  Pitt  ;  and 
they  rallied  to  these  the  fragment  of  the  Tory  party  which  still  took 
part  in  politics,  and  which  was  guided  for  a  while  by  the  virulent 
ability  of  Bolingbroke,  whom  Walpole  had  suffered  to  return  from 
exile,  but  to  whom  he  had  refused  the  restoration  of  his  seat  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  But  Walpole's  defeat  on  the  Excise  Bill  had  done 
little  to  shake  his  power,  and  Bolingbroke  withdrew  to  France  in 
despair  at  the  failure  of  his  efforts. 

Abroad  the  first  signs  of  a  new  danger  showed  themselves  in  1733, 
when  the  peace  of  Europe  was  broken  afresh  by  disputes  which  rose 
out  of  a  contested  election  to  the  throne  of  Poland.  Austria  and  France 
were  alike  drawn  into  the  strife ;  and  in  England  the  awakening 
jealousy  of  French  designs  roused  a  new  pressure  for  war.  The  new 
King  too  was  eager  to  fight,  and  her  German  sympathies  inclined  even 
Caroline  to  join  in  the  fray.  But  Walpole  stood  firm  for  the  observance 
of  neutrality.  "  There  are  fifty  thousand  men  slain  this  year  in  Europe," 
he  boasted  as  the  strife  went  on,  "and  not  one  Englishman."  The 
intervention  of  England  and  Holland  succeeded  in  1736  in  restoring 
peace  ;  but  the  country  noted  bitterly  that  peace  was  bought  by  the 
triumph  of  both  branches  of  the  House  of  Bourbon.  A  new  Bourbon 
monarchy  was  established  at  the  cost  of  the  House  of  Austria  by 
the  cession  of  the  Two  Sicilies  to  a  Spanish  Prince,  in  exchange  for 
his  right  of  succession  to  Parma  and  Tuscany.  On  the  other  hand,  Lor- 
raine passed  finally  into  the  hands  of  France.  The  birth  of  children 
to  Lewis  the  Fifteenth  had  settled  all  questions  of  succession  in 
France,  and  no  obstacle  remained  to  hinder  their  family  sympathies 
from  uniting  the  Boutbon  Courts  in  a  common  action.  As  early  as  1733 


IX.  1 


THE  REVOLUTION. 


733 


a  Family  Compact  had  been  secretly  concluded  between  France  and 
Spain,  the  main  object  of  which  was  the  ruin  of  the  maritime  supre- 
macy of  Britain.  Spain  bound  herself  to  deprive  England  gradually  of 
its  commercial  privileges  in  her  American  dominions,  and  to  transfer 
them  to  France.  France  in  return  engaged  to  support  Spain  at  sea, 
and  to  aid  her  in  the  recovery  of  Gibraltar.  The  caution  with  which 
Walpole  held  aloof  from  the  Polish  war  rendered  this  compact  in- 
operative for  the  time  ;  but  neither  of  the  Bourbon  courts  ceased  to 
look  forward  to  its  future  execution.  No  sooner  was  the  war  ended 
than  France  strained  every  nerve  to  increase  her  fleet ;  while  Spain 
steadily  tightened  the  restrictions  on  British  commerce  with  her 
American  colonies.  The  trade  with  Spanish  America,  which,  illegal 
as  it  was,  had  grown  largely  through  the  connivance  of  Spanish  port- 
officers  during  the  long  alliance  of  England  and  Spain  in  the  wars 
against  France,  had  at  last  received  a  legal  recognition  in  the  Peace 
of  Utrecht.  It  was  indeed  left  under  narrow  restrictions  ;  but  these 
were  evaded  by  a  vast  system  of  smuggling  which  rendered  what 
remained  of  the  Spanish  monopoly  all  but  valueless.  The  efforts  of 
Philip  however  to  bring  down  English  intercourse  with  his  colonies 
to  the  importation  of  negroes  and  the  despatch  of  a  single  ship,  as 
stipulated  by  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht,  brought  about  collisions  which 
made  it  hard  to  keep  the  peace.  The  ill-humour  of  the  trading  classes 
rose  to  madness  in  1738  when  a  merchant  captain  named  Jenkins  told 
at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  the  tale  of  his  torture  by  the 
Spaniards,  and  produced  an  ear  which,  he  said,  they  had  cut  off  with 
taunts  at  the  English  king.  It  was  in  vain  that  Walpole  strove  to  do 
justice  to  both  parties,  and  that  he  battled  stubbornly  against  the  cry 
for  an  unjust  and  impolitic  war.  The  Emperor's  death  was  now  close 
at  hand  ;  and  at  such  a  juncture  it  was  of  the  highest  importance  that 
England  should  be  free  to  avail  herself  of  every  means  to  guard  the 
European  settlement.  But  his  efforts  were  in  vain.  His  negotiations 
were  foiled  by  the  frenzy  of  the  one  country  and  the  pride  of  the 
other.  At  home  his  enemies  assailed  him' with  a  storm  of  abuse. 
Ballad-singers  trolled  out  their  rimes  to  the  crowd  on  "  the  cur-dog  of 
Britain  and  spaniel  of  Spain."  His  position  had  been  weakened  by 
the  death  of  the  Queen  ;  and  it  was  now  weakened  yet  more  by  the 
open  hostility  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  His  mastery  of  the  House  of 
Commons  too  was  no  longer  unquestioned.  The  Tories  were  slowly 
returning  to  Parliament.  The  numbers  and  the  violence  of  the 
"  Patriots  "  had  grown  with  the  open  patronage  of  Prince  Frederick. 
The  country  was  slowly  turning  against  him.  With  the  cry  for  a 
commercial  war  the  support  of  the  trading  class  failed  him.  But  it 
was  not  till  he  stood  utterly  alone  that  Walpole  gave  way  and  that  he 
consented  in  1739  to  a  war  against  Spain. 

"  They  may  ring  their  bells  now,"  the  great  minister  said  bitterly,  as 


A' 


734 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


peals  and  bonfires  welcomed  his  surrender ;  "  but  they  will  soon  be 
wringing  their  hands."  His  foresight  was  at  once  justified.  No  sooner 
had  Admiral  Vernon  appeared  off  the  coast  of  South  America  with  an 
English  fleet,  and  captured  Porto  Bello,  than  France  formally  declared 
that  she  would  not  consent  to  any  English  settlement  on  the  main- 
land of  South  America,  and  despatched  two  squadrons  to  the  West 
Indies.  At  this  crisis  the  death  of  Charles  the  Sixth  forced  on  the 
European  struggle  which  Walpole  had  dreaded.  France  saw  her  op- 
portunity for  finishing  the  work  which  Henry  the  Second  had  begun 
of  breaking  up  the  Empire  into  a  group  of  powers  too  weak  to  resist 
French  aggression.  While  the  new  King  of  Prussia,  Frederick  the 
Second,  claimed  Silesia,  Bavaria  claimed  the  Austrian  Duchies,  which 
passed  with  the  other  hereditary  dominions,  according  to  the  Prag- 
matic Sanction,  to  the  Queen  of  Hungary,  Maria  Theresa.  In  union 
therefore  with  Spain,  which  aimed  at  the  annexation  of  the  Milanese, 
France  promised  her  aid  to  Prussia  and  Bavaria  ;  while  Sweden  and 
Sardinia  allied  themselves  to  France.  In  the  summer  of  1741  two 
French  armies  entered  Germany,  and  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  appeared 
unopposed  before  Vienna.  Never  had  the  House  of  Austria  stood  ui 
such  peril.  Its  opponents  counted  on  a  division  of  its  dominions. 
France  claimed  the  Netherlands,  Spain  the  Milanese,  Bavaria  the 
kingdom  of  Bohemia,  Frederick  the  Second  Silesia.  Hungary  and 
the  Duchy  of  Austria  alone  were  left  to  Maria  Theresa.  Walpole, 
though  still  true  to  her  cause,  advised  her  to  purchase  Frederick's  aid 
against  France  and  her  allies  by  the  cession  of  part  of  Silesia  ;  but 
the  "  Patriots ''  spurred  her  to  refusal  by  promising  her  the  aid  of 
England.  Walpole's  last  hope  of  rescuing  Austria  was  broken,  and 
Frederick  was  driven  to  conclude  an  alliance  with  France.  But 
the  Queen  refused  to  despair.  She  won  the  support  of  Hungary  by 
restoring  its  constitutional  rights  ;  and  British  subsidies  enabled  her 
to  march  at  the  head  of  a  Hungarian  army  to  the  rescue  of  Vienna, 
to  overrun  Bavaria,  and  repulse  an  attack  of  Frederick  on  Moravia 
in  the  spring  of  1742.  On  England  s  part,  however,  the  war  was 
waged  feebly  and  ineffectively.  Admiral  Vernon  was  beaten  before 
Carthagcna  ;  and  Walpole  was  charged  with  thwarting  and  starving 
the  war.  He  still  repelled  the  attacks  of  the  "  Patriots  "  with  wonderful 
spirit ;  but  in  a  new  Parliament  his  majority  dropped  to  sixteen,  and 
in  his  own  cabinet  he  became  almost  powerless.  The  buoyant  temper 
which  had  carried  him  through  so  many  storms  broke  down  at  last.  "  He 
who  was  asleep  as  soon  as  his  head  touched  the  pillow,"  writes  his  son, 
"  now  never  sleeps  above  an  hour  without  waking :  and  he  who  at  dinner 
always  forgot  his  own  anxieties,  and  was  more  gay  and  thoughtless  than 
all  the  company,  now  sits  without  speaking,  and  with  his  eyes  fixed  for 
I  an  hour  together."  The  end  was  in  fact  near  ;  and  in  the  opening  of 
I  1742  the  dwindling  of  his  majority  to  three  forced  Walpole  to  resign. 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


735 


CHAPTER  X. 

MODERN  ENGLAND. 

Section  I.— "William  Pitt,    1742 -1763. 

{Authorities. — Lord  Stanhope  and  Horace  Walpole,  as  before.  Southey's 
biography,  or  the  more  elaborate  life  by  Mr.  Tyerman,  gives  an  account  of 
Wesley.  For  Pitt  himself,  the  Chatham  correspondence,  his  life  by  Thackeray, 
and  Lord  Macaulay's  two  essays  on  him.  The  Annual  Register  begins  with 
1758  ;  its  earlier  portion  has  been  attributed  to  Burke.  Carlyle's  "  Frederick 
the  Great "  gives  a  picturesque  account  of  the  Seven  Years'  War.  For  Clive, 
see  the  biography  by  Sir  John  Malcolm,  and  Lord  Macaulay's  essay.] 

The  fall  of  Walpole  revealed  a  change  in  the  temper  of  England 
which  was  to  influence  from  that  time  to  this  its  social  and  political 
history.  New  forces,  new  cravings,  new  aims,  which  had  been  silently 
gathering  beneath  the  crust  of  inaction,  began  at  last  to  tell  on  the 
national  life.  The  stir  showed  itself  markedly  in  a  religious  revival 
which  dates  from  the  later  years  of  Walpole's  ministry.  Never  had 
religion  seemed  at  a  lower  ebb.  The  progress  of  free  inquiry, 
the  aversion  from  theological  strife  which  had  been  left  by  the  Civil 
Wars,  the  new  political  and  material  channels  opened  to  human 
energy,  had  produced  a  general  indifference  to  all  questions  of  religious 
speculation  or  religious  life.  The  Church,  predominant  as  its  influence 
seemed  at  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  had  sunk  into  political  insigni- 
ficance. The  bishops,  who  were  now  chosen  exclusively  from  among 
the  small  number  of  Whig  ecclesiastics,  were  left  politically  powerless 
by  the  estrangement  and  hatred  of  their  clergy ;  while  the  clergy 
themselves,  drawn  by  their  secret  tendencies  to  Jacobitism,  stood 
sulkily  apart  from  any  active  interference  with  public  affairs.  The 
prudence  of  the  Whig  statesmen  aided  to  maintain  this  ecclesiastical 
immobility.  They  were  careful  to  avoid  all  that  could  rouse  into  life 
the  slumbering  forces  of  bigotry  and  fanaticism.  When  the  Dissenters 
pressed  for  a  repeal  of  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts,  Walpole  openly 
avowed  his  dread  of  awaking  the  passions  of  religious  hate  by  such  a 
measure,  and  satisfied  them  by  an  annual  act  of  indemnity  for  any 
breach  of  these  penal  statutes  ;  while  a  suspension  of  the  meetings  of 
Convocation  deprived  the  clergy  of  their  natural  centre  of  agitatioc  ' 
and  opposition.  Nor  was  this  political  inaction  compensated  by  any 
religious  activity.  A  large  number  of  prelates  were  mere  Whig  parii- 
zans  with  no  higher  aim  than  that  of  promotion.     The  levees  of  the 


736 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[CHAP. 


Ministers  were  crowded  with  lawn  sleeves.  A  Welsh  bishop  aroweci 
that  he  had  seen  his  diocese  but  once,  and  habitually  resided  at  the 
lakes  of  Westmoreland.  The  system  of  pluralities  turned  the  wealthier 
and  more  learned  of  the  priesthood  into  absentees,  while  the  bulk  of 
them  were  indolent,  poor,  and  without  social  consideration.  A  shrewd, 
if  prejudiced,  observer  brands  the  English  clergy  of  the  day  as  the 
most  lifeless  in  Europe,  "the  most  remiss  of  their  labours  in  private, 
and  the  least  severe  in  their  lives."  There  was  a  revolt  against 
religion  and  against  churches  in  both  the  extremes  of  English 
society.  In  the  higher  circles  of  society  "every  one  laughs,"  said 
Montesquieu  on  his  visit  to  England,  "  if  one  talks  of  religion."  Of 
the  prominent  statesmen  of  the  time  the  greater  part  were  unbelievers 
in  any  form  of  Christianity,  and  distinguished  for  the  grossness  and 
immorality  of  their  lives.  Drunkenness  and  foul  talk  were  thought  no 
discredit  to  Walpole.  A  later  prime  minister,  the  Duke  of  Grafton, 
was  in  the  habit  of  appearing  with  his  mistress  at  the  play.  Purity 
and  fidelity  to  the  marriage  vow  were  sneered  out  of  fashion  ;  and 
Lord  Chesterfield,  in  his  letters  to  his  son,  instructs  him  in  the  art  of 
seduction  as  part  of  a  polite  education.  At  the  other  end  of  the  social 
scale  lay  the  masses  of  the  poor.  They  were  ignorant  and  brutal  to  a 
degree  which  it  is  hard  to  conceive,  for  the  increase  of  population 
which  followed  on  the  growth  of  towns  and  the  developement  of  com- 
merce had  been  met  by  no  effort  for  their  religious  or  educational 
improvement.  Not  a  new  parish  had  been  created.  Schools  there 
were  none,  save  the  grammar  schools  of  Edward  and  Elizabeth,  and 
some  newly  established  "  circulating  schools  "  in  Wales,  for  religious 
education.  The  rural  peasantry,  who  were  fast  being  reduced  to 
pauperism  by  the  abuse  of  the  poor-laws,  were  left  without  much 
moral  or  religious  training  of  any  sort.  **  We  saw  but  one  Bible  in  the 
parish  of  Cheddar,"  said  Hannah  More  at  a  far  later  time,  "  and  that 
was  used  to  prop  a  flower-pot."  Within  the  towns  things  were  worse. 
There  was  no  effective  police  ;  and  in  great  outbreaks  the  mob  of 
London  or  Birmingham  burnt  houses,  flung  open  prisons,  and  sacked 
and  pillaged  at  their  will.  The  criminal  class  gathered  boldness  and 
numbers  in  the  face  of  ruthless  laws  which  only  testified  to  the  terror 
of  society,  laws  which  made  it  a  capital  crime  to  cut  down  a  cherry 
tree,  and  which  strung  up  twenty  young  thieves  of  a  morning  in  front 
of  Newgate ;  while  the  introduction  of  gin  gave  a  new  impetus  to 
drunkenness.  In  the  streets  of  London  at  one  time  gin-shops  invited 
every  passer-by  to  get  drunk  for  a  penny,  or  dead  drunk  for  twopence. 
In  spite  however  of  scenes  such  as  this,  England  remained  at  heart 
religious.  In  the  middle  class  the  old  Puritan  spirit  lived  on  unchangea, 
and  it  was  from  this  class  that  a  religious  revival  burst  forth  at  the  ciose 
of  Walpole's  administration,  which  changed  after  a  time  the  whole  torn- 
of  English  society.     The  Church  was  restored  to  life  and  activitv. 


X.I 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


737 


Religion  carried  to  the  hearts  of  the  people  a  fresh  spirit  of  moral  zeal, 
while  it  purified  our  literature  and  our  manners.  A  new  philanthropy 
reformed  our  prisons,  infused  clemency  and  wisdom  into  our  penal 
laws,  abolished  the  slave  trade,  and  gave  the  first  impulse  to  popular 
education.  The  revival  began  in  a  small  knot  of  Oxford  students, 
whose  revolt  against  the  religious  deadness  of  their  times  showed  itself 
in  ascetic  observances,  an  entnusiastic  devotion,  and  a  methodical 
regularity  of  life  which  gained  them  the  nickname  of  "  Methodists." 
Three  figures  detached  themselves  from  the  group  as  soon  as,  on  its 
transfer  to  London  in  1738,  it  attracted  public  attention  by  the  fervour 
and  even  extravagance  of  its  piety  ;  and  each  found  his  special  work 
in  the  task  to  which  the  instinct  of  the  new  movement  led  it  from  the 
first,  that  of  carrying  religion  and  morality  to  the  vast  masses  of  popu- 
lation which  lay  concentrated  in  the  towns,  or  around  the  mines  and 
collieries  of  Cornwall  and  the  north.  Whitefield,  a  servitor  of  Pem- 
broke College,  was  above  all  the  preacher  of  the  revival.  Speech  was 
governing  English  politics ;  and  the  religious  power  of  speech  was  shown 
when  a  dread  of  "  enthusiasm "  closed  against  the  new  apostles  the 
pulpits  of  the  Established  Church,  and  forced  them  to  preach  in  the 
fields.  Their  voice  was  soon  heard  in  the  wildest  and  most  barbarous 
corners  of  the  land,  among  the  bleak  moors  of  Northumberland,  or  in 
the  dens  of  London,  or  in  the  long  galleries  where  in  the  pauses  of  his 
labour  the  Cornish  miner  hstens  to  the  sobbing  of  the  sea.  White- 
field's  preaching  was  such  as  England  had  never  heard  before, 
theatrical,  extravagant,  often  commonplace,  but  hushing  all  criticism 
by  its  intense  reality,  its  earnestness  of  belief,  its  deep  tremulous 
sympathy  with  the  sin  and  sorrow  of  mankind.  It  was  no  common 
enthusiast  who  could  wring  gold  from  the  close-fistM  Franklin  and 
admiration  from  the  fastidious  Horace  Walpole,  or  who  could  look 
down  from  the  top  of  a  green  knoll  at  Kingswood  on  twenty  thousand 
colliers,  grimy  from  the  Bristol  coal-pits,  and  see  as  he  preached  the 
tears  "  making  white  channels  down  their  blackened  cheeks."  On  the 
rough  and  ignorant  masses  to  whom  they  spoke  the  effect  of  Whitefield 
and  his  fellow  Methodists  was  mighty  both  for  good  and  ill.  Their 
preaching  stirred  a  passionate  hatred  in  their  opponents.  Their  lives 
were  often  in  danger,  they  were  mobbed,  they  were  ducked,  they  were 
stoned,  they  were  smothered  with  filth.  But  the  enthusiasm  they 
aroused  was  equally  passionate.  Women  fell  down  in  convulsions  ; 
strong  men  were  smitten  suddenly  to  the  earth  ;  the  preacher  was  in- 
terrupted by  bursts  of  hysteric  laughter  or  of  hysteric  sobbing.  All  the 
phenomena  of  strong  spiritual  excitement,  so  familiar  now,  but  at  that 
time  strange  and  unknown,  followed  on  their  sermons  ;  and  the  terrible 
sense  of  a  conviction  of  sin,  a  new  dread  of  hell,  a  new  hope  of  heaven, 
took  forms  at  once  grotesque  and  sublime.  Charles  Wesley,  a  Christ 
Church  student,  came  to  add  sweetness  to  this  sudden  and  startling 

2   B 


CharUs 
WesUy 


738 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


light.  He  was  the  "sweet  singer"  of  the  movement  His  hymns 
expressed  the  fiery  conviction  of  its  converts  in  lines  so  chaste  and 
beautiful  that  its  more  extravagant  features  disappeared.  The  wild 
throes  of  hysteric  enthusiasm  passed  into  a  passion  for  hymn-singing, 
and  a  new  musical  impulse  was  aroused  in  the  people  which  gradually 
changed  the  face  i!»f  public  devotion  throughout  England. 

But  it  was  his  elder  brother,  John  Wesley,  who  embodied  in  himself 
not  this  or  that  side  of  the  new  movement,  but  the  movement  itself. 
Even  at  Oxford,  where  he  resided  as  a  fellow  of  Lincoln,  he  had  been 
looked  upon  as  head  of  the  group  of  Methodists,  and  after  his  return 
from  a  quixotic  mission  to  the  Indians  of  Georgia  he  again  took  the 
lead  of  the  little  society,  which  had  removed  in  the  interval  to  London. 
In  power  as  a  preacher  he  stood  next  to  Whitefield  ;  as  a  hymn-writer 
he  stood  second  to  his  brother  Charles.  But  while  combining  in  some 
degree  the  excellences  of  either,  he  possessed  qualities  in  which  both 
were  utterly  deficient ;  an  indefatigable  industry,  a  cool  judgement,  a 
command  over  others,  a  faculty  of  organization,  a  singular  union  of 
patience  and  moderation  with  an  imperious  ambition,  which  marked 
him  as  a  ruler  of  men.  He  had  besides  a  learning  and  skill  in  writing 
which  no  other  of  the  Methodists  possessed  ;  he  was  older  than  any  of 
his  colleagues  at  the  start  of  the  movement,  and  he  outlived  them  alL 
His  life  indeed  almost  covers  the  century,  and  the  Methodist  body  had 
passed  through  every  phase  of  its  history  before  he  sank  into  the  grave 
at  the  age  of  eighty-eight.  It  would  have  been  impossible  for  Wesley 
to  have  wielded  the  power  he  did  had  he  not  shared  the  follies  and 
extravagance  as  well  as  the  enthusiasm  of  his  disciples.  Throughout 
his  life  his  asceticism  was  that  of  a  monk.  At  times  hehved  on  bread 
only,  and  he  often  slept  on  the  bare  boards.  He  lived  in  a  world  of 
wonders  and  divine  interpositions.  It  was  a  miracle  if  the  rain  stopped 
and  allowed  him  to  set  forward  on  a  journey.  It  was  a  judgement  of 
Heaven  if  a  hailstorm  burst  over  a  town  which  had  been  deaf  to  his 
preaching.  One  day,  he  tells  us,  when  he  was  tired  and  his  horse  fell 
lame,  "  I  thought — cannot  God  heal  either  man  or  beast  by  any  means 
or  without  any  ?— immediately  my  headache  ceased  and  my  horse's 
lameness  in  the  same  instant."  With  a  still  more  childish  fanaticism 
he  guided  his  conduct,  whether  in  ordinary  events  or  in  the  great  crises 
of  his  life,  by  drawing  lots  or  watching  the  particular  texts  at  which  his 
Bible  opened.  But  with  all  this  extravagance  and  superstition,  Wesley's 
mind  was  essentially  practical,  orderly,  and  conservative.  No  man 
ever  stood  at  the  head  of  a  great  revolution  whose  temper  was  so  anti- 
revolutionary.  In  his  earlier  days  the  bishops  had  been  forced  to  rebuke 
him  for  the  narrowness  and  intolerance  of  his  churchmanship.  When 
Whitefield  began  his  sermons  in  the  fields,  Wesley  "could  not  at  first 
reconcile  himself  to  that  strange  way."  He  condemned  and  fought 
against  the  admission  of  laymen  as  preachers  till  he  found  himself  left 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


739 


with  none  but  laymen  to  preach.  To  the  last  he  clung  passionately  to 
the  Church  of  England,  and  looked  on  the  body  he  had  formed  as  but 
a  lay  society  in  full  communion  with  it.  He  broke  with  the  Moravians, 
who  had  been  the  earliest  friends  of  the  new  movement,  when  they  en- 
dangered its  safe  conduct  by  their  contempt  of  religious  forms.  He 
broke  with  Whitefield  when  the  great  preacher  plui  ged  into  an  extra- 
vagant Calvinism.  But  the  same  practical  temper  of  mind  which  led 
him  to  reject  what  was  unmeasured,  and  to  be  the  last  to  adopt  what 
was  new,  enabled  him  at  once  to  grasp  and  organize  the  novelties  he 
adopted.  He  became  himself  the  most  unwearied  of  field  preachers, 
and  his  journal  for  half  a  century  is  little  more  than  a  record  of  fresh 
journeys  and  fresh  sermons.  When  once  driven  to  employ  lay  helpers 
in  his  ministry  he  made  their  work  a  new  and  attractive  feature  in  his 
system.  His  earlier  asceticism  only  lingered  in  a  dread  of  social  en- 
joyments and  an  aversion  from  the  gayer  and  sunnier  side  of  life  which 
links  the  Methodist  movement  with  that  of  the  Puritans.  As  the  fervour 
of  his  superstition  died  down  into  the  calm  of  age,  his  cool  common 
sense  discouraged  in  his  followers  the  enthusiastic  outbursts  which 
marked  the  opening  of  the  revival.  His  powers  were  bent  to  the  build- 
ing up  of  a  great  religious  society  which  might  give  to  the  new 
enthusiasm  a  lasting  and  practical  form.  The  Methodists  were  grouped 
into  classes,  gathered  in  love-feasts,  purified  by  the  expulsion  of  un- 
worthy members,  and  furnished  with  an  alternation  of  settled  ministers 
and  wandering  preachers  ;  while  the  whole  body  was  placed  under 
the  absolute  government  of  a  Conference  of  ministers.  But  so  long 
as  he  lived,  the  direction  of  the  new  religious  society  remained  with 
Wesley  alone.  "  If  by  arbitrary  power,"  he  replied  with  charming 
simplicity  to  objectors,  "  you  mean  a  power  which  I  exercise  simply 
without  any  colleagues  therein,  this  is  certainly  true,  but  I  see  no  hurt 
in  it." 

The  great  body  which  he  thus  founded  numbered  a  hundred  thou- 
sand members  at  his  death,  and  now  counts  its  members  in  England 
and  America  by  millions.  But  the  Methodists  themselves  were  the 
least  result  of  the  Methodist  revival.  Its  action  upon  the  Church  broke 
the  lethargy  of  the  clergy  ;  and  the  "  Evangelical "  movement,  which 
found  representatives  like  Newton  and  Cecil  within  the  pale  of  the 
Establishment,  made  the  fox-hunting  parson  and  the  absentee  rector 
at  last  impossible.  In  Walpole's  day  the  English  clergy  were  the  idlest 
and  most  lifeless  in  the  world.  In  our  own  time  no  body  of  religious 
ministers  surpasses  them  in  piety,  in  philanthropic  energy,  or  in 
popular  regard.  In  the  nation  at  large  appeared  a  new  moral 
enthusiasm  which,  rigid  and  pedantic  as  it  often  seemed,  was  still 
healthy  in  its  social  tone,  and  whose  power  was  seen  in  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  profligacy  which  had  disgraced  the  upper  classes,  and  the 
foulness  which  had  infested  literature,  ever  since  the  Restoration.     A 


740 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


yet  nobler  result  of  the  religious  revival  was  the  steady  attempt,  which 
has  never  ceased  from  that  day  to  this,  to  remedy  the  guilt,  the  ignor- 
ance, the  physical  suffering,  the  social  degradation  of  the  profligate  and 
the  poor.  It  was  not  till  the  Wesleyan  impulse  had  done  its  work  that 
this  philanthropic  impulse  began.  The  Sunday  Schools  established 
by  Mr.  Raikes  of  Gloucester  at  the  close  of  the  century  were  the 
beginnings  of  popular  education.  By  writings  and  by  her  own  personal 
example  Hannah  More  drew  the  sympathy  of  England  to  the  poverty 
and  crime  of  the  agricultural  labourer.  A  passionate  impulse  of  human 
sympathy  with  the  wronged  and  afflicted  raised  hospitals,  endowed 
charities,  built  churches,  sent  missionaries  to  the  heathen,  supported 
Burke  in  his  plea  for  the  Hindoo,  and  Clarkson  and  Wilberforce  in 
their  crusade  against  the  iniquity  of  the  slave-trade.  It  is  only  the 
moral  chivalry  of  his  labours  that  amongst  a  crowd  of  philanthropists 
draws  us  most,  perhaps,  to  the  work  and  character  of  John  Howard. 
The  sympathy  which  all  were  feeling  for  the  sufferings  of  mankind  he 
felt  for  the  sufferings  of  the  worst  and  most  hapless  of  men.  With 
wonderful  ardour  and  perseverance  he  devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of 
the  debtor,  the  felon,  and  the  murderer.  An  appointment  to  the  office 
of  High  Sheriff  of  Bedfordshire  in  1774  drew  his  attention  to  the  state 
of  the  prisons  which  were  placed  under  his  care  ;  and  from  that  time 
the  quiet  country  gentleman,  whose  only  occupation  had  been  reading 
his  Bible  and  studying  his  thermometer,  became  the  most  energetic 
and  zealous  of  reformers.  Before  a  year  was  over  he  had  personally 
visited  almost  every  English  gaol,  and  he  found  in  nearly  all  of  them 
frightful  abuses  which  had  been  noticed  half  a  century  before,  but  left 
unredressed  by  Parliament.  Gaolers  who  bought  their  places  were 
paid  by  fees,  and  suffered  to  extort  what  they  could.  Even  when 
acquitted,  men  were  dragged  back  to  their  cells  for  want  of  funds  to 
discharge  the  sums  they  owed  to  their  keepers.  Debtors  and  felons 
were  huddled  together  in  the  prisons  which  Howard  found  crowded  by 
the  cruel  legislation  of  the  day.  No  separation  was  preserved  between 
different  sexes,  no  criminal  discipline  enforced.  Every  gaol  was  a 
chaos  of  cruelty  and  the  foulest  immorality,  from  which  the  prisoner 
could  only  escape  by  sheer  starvation,  or  through  the  gaol -fever  that 
festered  without  ceasing  in  these  haunts  of  wretchedness.  Howard 
saw  everything  with  his  own  eyes,  he  tested  every  suffering  by  his  own 
experience.  In  one  gaol  he  found  a  cell  so  narrow  and  noisome  that 
the  poor  wretch  who  inhabited  it  begged  as  a  mercy  for  hanging. 
Howard  shut  himself  up  in  the  cell  and  bore  its  darkness  and  foulness 
till  nature  could  bear  no  more.  It  was  by  work  of  this  sort,  and  by  the 
faithful  pictures  of  such  scenes  which  it  enabled  him  to  give,  that  he 
brought  about  their  reform.  The  book  in  which  he  recorded  his 
terrible  experience,  and  the  plans  which  he  submitted  for  the  reforma- 
tion of  criminals  made  him  the  father,  so  far  as  England  is  concerned. 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


741 


of  prison  discipline.  But  his  labours  were  far  from  being  confined  to 
England.  In  journey  after  journey  he  visited  the  gaols  of  Holland  and 
Germany,  till  his  longing  to  discover  some  means  of  checking  the  fatal 
progress  of  the  plague  led  him  to  examine  the  lazarettos  of  Europe 
and  the  East.  He  was  still  engaged  in  this  work  of  charity  when  he 
was  seized  by  a  malignant  fever  at  Cherson  in  Southern  Russia,  and 
■'  laid  quietly  in  the  earth,"  as  he  desired. 

While  the  revival  of  the  Wesleys  was  stirring  the  very  heart  of 
England,  its  political  stagnation  was  unbroken.  The  fall  of  Walpole 
made  no  change  in  English  policy,  at  home  or  abroad.  The  bulk  of 
his  ministry,  who  had  opposed  him  in  his  later  years  of  office,  resumed 
their  posts,  simply  admitting  some  of  the  more  prominent  members  of 
opposition,  and  giving  the  control  of  foreign  affairs  to  Lord  Carteret, 
a  man  of  great  power,  and  skilled  in  continental  affairs.  Carteret 
mainly  followed  the  system  of  his  predecessor.  It  was  in  the  union  of 
Austria  and  Prussia  that  he  looked  for  the  means  of  destroying  the 
hold  France  had  now  established  in  Germany  by  the  election  of  her 
puppet,  Charles  of  Bavaria,  as  Emperor  ;  and  the  pressure  of  England, 
aided  by  a  victory  of  Frederick  at  Chotusitz,  forced  Maria  Theresa  to 
consent  to  Walpole's  plan  of  a  peace  with  Prussia  at  Breslau  on  the 
terms  of  the  cession  of  Silesia.  The  peace  enabled  the  Austrian  army 
to  drive  the  French  from  Bohemia  at  the  close  of  1742  ;  an  English 
fleet  blockaded  Cadiz,  and  another  anchored  in  the  bay  of  Naples  and 
forced  Don  Carlos  by  a  threat  of  bombarding  his  capital  to  conclude  a 
treaty  of  neutrahty,  while  English  subsidies  detached  Sardinia  from  the 
French  alliance.  Unfortunately  Carteret  and  the  Court  of  Vienna  now 
determined  not  only  to  set  up  the  Pragmatic  Sanction,  but  to  undo  the 
French  encroachments  of  1736.  Naples  and  Sicily  were  to  be  taken 
back  from  their  Spanish  King,  Elsass  and  Lorraine  from  France ;  and 
the  imperial  dignity  was  to  be  restored  to  the  Austrian  House.  To 
carry  out  these  schemes  an  Austrian  army  drove  the  Emperor  from 
Bavaria  in  the  spring  of  1743  ;  while  George  the  Second,  who  warmly 
supported  Carteret's  policy,  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  force  of  40,000 
men,  the  bulk  of  whom  were  English  and  Hanoverians,  and  marched 
from  the  Netherlands  to  the  Main.  His  advance  was  checked  and 
finally  turned  into  a  retreat  by  the  Due  de  Noailles,  who  appeared  with 
a  superior  army  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river,  and  finally  throwing 
31,000  men  across  it,  threatened  to  compel  the  King  to  surrender.  In 
the  battle  of  Dettingen  which  followed,  however,  not  only  was  the  alHed 
army  saved  from  destruction  by  the  impetuosity  of  the  French  horse 
and  the  dogged  obstinacy  with  which  the  English  held  their  ground, 
but  their  opponents  were  forced  to  recross  the  Main.  Small  as  was 
the  victory,  it  produced  amazing  results.  The  French  evacuated 
Germany.  The  English  and  Austrian  armies  appeared  on  the 
Rhine ;    and  a  league  between   England,  Prussia,  and  the  Queen  of 


Sec. 


743 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


Hungary,  seemed  all  that  was  needed  to  secure  the  results  already 
gained. 

But  the  prospect  of  peace  was  overthrown  by  the  ambition  of  the 
House  of  Austria.  In  the  spring  of  1744  an  Austrian  army  marched 
upon  Naples,  with  the  purpose  of  transferring  it  after  its  conquest  to 
the  Bavarian  Emperor,  whose  hereditary  dominions  in  Bavaria  were 
to  pass  in  return  to  Maria  Theresa.  If  however  Frederick  had  with- 
drawn from  the  war  on  the  cession  of  Silesia,  he  was  resolute  to 
take  up  arms  again  rather  than  suffer  so  great  an  aggrandisement  of 
the  House  of  Austria  in  Germany.  His  sudden  alliance  with  France 
failed  at  first  to  change  the  course  of  the  war  ;  for  though  he  was  suc- 
cessful in  seizing  Prague  and  drawing  the  Austrian  army  from  the 
Rhine,  Frederick  was  driven  from  Bohemia,  while  the  death  of  the 
Emperor  forced  Bavaria  to  lay  down  its  arms  and  to  ally  itself  with 
Maria  Theresa.  So  high  were  the  Queen's  hopes  at  this  moment  that 
she  formed  a  secret  alliance  with  Russia  for  the  division  of  the  Prus- 
sian monarchy.  But  in  1745  the  tide  turned,  and  the  fatal  results  of 
Carteret's  weakness  in  assenting  to  the  change  from  a  war  of  defence 
into  one  of  attack  became  manifest.  The  French  King,  Lewis  the  Fif- 
teenth, led  an  army  into  the  Netherlands  ;  and  the  refusal  of  Holland 
to  act  against  him  left  their  defence  wholly  in  the  hands  of  England. 
The  general  anger  at  this  widening  of  the  war  proved  fatal  to  Carteret, 
or,  as  he  now  became.  Earl  Granville.  His  imperious  temper  had 
rendered  him  odious  to  his  colleagues,  and  he  was  driven  from  office 
by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  his  brother  Henry  Pelham.  Of  the 
reconstituted  ministry  which  followed  Henry  Pelham  became  the  head. 
His  temper,  as  well  as  a  consciousness  of  his  own  mediocrity,  dis- 
posed him  to  a  policy  of  conciliation  which  reunited  the  Whigs. 
Chesterfield  and  the  Whigs  in  opposition,  with  Pitt  and  "  the  Boys," 
all  found  room  in  the  new  administration  ;  and  even  a  few  Tories 
found  admittance.  The  bulk  of  the  Whigs  were  true  to  Walpole's 
policy ;  and  it  was  to  pave  the  way  to  an  accommodation  with 
Frederick  and  a  close  of  the  war  that  the  Pelhams  forced  Carteret 
to  resign.  But  their  attention  had  first  to  be  given  to  the  war  in 
Flanders,  where  Marshal  Saxe  had  established  the  superiority  of  the 
French  army  b>  his  defeat  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland.  Advancing 
to  the  relief  of  Tournay  with  a  force  of  English,  Hanoverians,  and 
Dutch — for  Holland  had  at  last  been  dragged  into  the  war — the  Duke 
on  the  31st  of  May  1745  found  the  French  covered  by  a  line  of  fortified 
villages  and  redoubts  with  but  a  single  narrow  gap  near  the  hamlet  of 
Fontenoy.  Into  this  gap,  however,  the  English  troops,  formed  in  a 
dense  column,  doggedly  thrust  themselves  in  spite  of  a  terrible  fire  ; 
but  at  the  moment  when  the  day  seemed  won  the  French  guns,  rapidly 
concentrated  in  their  front,  tore  the  column  in  pieces  and  drove  it  back 
in  a  slow  and  orderly  retreat     The*  blow  was  quickly  followed  up  in 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


743 


June  by  a. victory  of  Frederick  at  H ohenfriedburg  which  drove  the 
Austrians  from  Silesia,  and  by  a  landing  of  a  Stuart  on  the  coast  of 
Scotland  at  the  close  ot  July. 

The  war  with  France  had  at  once  revived  the  hopes  of  the  Jacobites ; 
and  as  early  as  1744  Charles  Edward,  the  grandson  of  James  the 
Second,  was  placed  by  the  French  Government  at  the  head  of  a 
formidable  armament.  But  his  plan  of  a  descent  on  Scotland  was 
defeated  by  a  storm  which  wrecked  his  fleet,  and  by  the  march  of  the 
French  troops  which  had  sailed  in  it  to  the  war  in  Flanders.  In  1745, 
however,  the  young  adventurer  again  embarked  with  but  seven  friends 
in  a  small  vessel  and  landed  on  a  little  island  of  the  Hebrides.  For 
three  weeks  he  stood  almost  alone ;  but  on  the  29th  of  August 
the  clans  rallied  to  his  standard  in  Glenfinnan,  and  Charles  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  fifteen  hundred  men.  His  force  swelled  to  an 
army  as  he  marched  through  Blair  Athol  op  Perth,  entered  Edinburgh 
in  triumph,  and  proclaimed  "  James  the  Eighth  "  at  the  Town  Cross  : 
and  two  thousand  English  troops  who  marched  against  him  under  Sir 
John  Cope  were  broken  and  cut  to  pieces  on  the  21st  of  September  by 
a  single  charge  of  the  clansmen  at  Preston  Pans.  Victory  at  once 
doubled  the  forces  of  the  conqueror.  The  Prince  was  now  at  the 
head  of  six  thousand  men  ;  but  all  were  still  Highlanders,  for  the 
people  of  the  Lowlands  held  aloof  from  his  standard,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  could  induce  them  to  follow  him  to  the 
south.  His  tact  and  energy  however  at  last  conquered  every  obstacle, 
and  after  skilfully  evading  an  army  gathered  at  Newcastle  he  marched 
through  Lancashire,  and  pushed  on  the  4th  of  December  as  far  as 
Derby.  But  here  all  hope  of  success  came  to  an  end.  Hardly  a  man 
had  risen  in  his  support  as  he  passed  through  the  districts  where 
Jacobitism  boasted  of  its  strength.  The  people  flocked  to  see  his 
march  as  if  to  see  a  show.  Catholics  and  Tories  abounded  in  Lanca- 
shire, but  only  a  single  squire  took  up  arms.  Manchester  was  looked 
on  as  the  most  Jacobite  of  Enghsh  towns,  but  all  the  aid  it  gave  was 
an  illumination  and  two  thousand  pounds.  From  Carlisle  to  Derby 
he  had  been  joined  by  hardly  two  hundred  men.  The  policy  of 
Walpole  had  in  fact  secured  England  for  the  House  of  Hanover. 
The  long  peace,  the  prosperity  of  the  country,  and  the  clemency  of 
the  Government,  had  done  their  work.  The  recent  admission  of 
Tories  into  the  administration  had  severed  the  Tory  party  finally  from 
the  mere  Jacobites.  Jacobitism  as  a  fighting  force  was  dead,  and  even 
Charles  Edward  saw  that  it  was  hopeless  to  conquer  England  with  five 
thousand  Highlanders.  He  soon  learned  too  that  forces  of  double  his 
own  strength  were  closing  on  either  side  of  him,  while  a  third  army 
under  the  King  and  Lord  Stair  covered  London.  Scotland  itself,  now 
that  the  Highlanders  were  away,  quietly  renewed  in  all  the  districts  of 
the  Lowlands  its  allegiance  to  the  House  of  Hanover.     Even  in  the 


744 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Highlands  the  Macleods  rose  in  arms  for  King  George,  while  the 
Gordons  refused  to  stir,  though  roused  by  a  small  French  force  which 
landed  at  Montrose.  To  advance  further  south  was  impossible,  and 
Charles  fell  rapidly  back  on  Glasgow  ;  but  the  reinforcements  which 
he  found  there  raised  his  army  to  nine  thousand  men,  and  on  the 
23rd  January,  1746,  he  boldly  attacked  an  English  army  under  General 
Hawley  which  had  followed  his  retreat  and  had  encamped  near  Falkirk. 
Again  the  wild  charge  of  his  Highlanders  won  victory  for  the  Prince, 
but  victory  was  as  fatal  as  defeat.  The  bulk  of  his  forces  dispersed 
with  their  booty  to  the  mountains,  and  Charles  fell  sullenly  back  to 
the  north  before  the  Duke  of  Cumberland.  On  the  i6th  of  April  the 
armies  faced  one  another  on  Culloden  Moor,  a  few  miles  eastward  of 
Inverness.  The  Highlanders  still  numbered  six  thousand  men,  but 
they  were  starving  and  dispirited,  while  Cumberland's  force  was  nearly 
double  that  of  the  Prince.  Torn  by  the  Duke's  guns,  the  clansmen 
flung  themselves  in  their  old  fashion  on  the  English  front  ;  but  they 
were  received  with  a  terrible  fire  of  musketry,  and  the  few  that  broke 
through  the  first  line  found  themselves  fronted  by  a  second  In  a  few 
moments  all  was  over,  and  the  Stuart  force  was  a  mass  of  hunted 
fugitives.  Charles  himself  after  strange  adventures  escaped  to  France. 
In  England  fifty  of  his  followers  were  hanged  ;  three  Scotch  lords, 
Lovat,  Balmerino,  and  Kilmarnock,  brought  to  the  block  ;  and  forty 
persons  of  rank  attainted  by  Act  of  Parliament.  More  extensive 
measures  of  repression  were  needful  in  the  Highlands.  The  feudal 
tenures  were  abolished.  The  hereditary  jurisdictions  of  the  chiefs 
were  bought  up  and  transferred  to  the  Crown.  The  tartan,  or  garb  of 
the  Highlanders,  was  forbidden  by  law.  These  measures,  followed  by  a 
general  Act  of  I  ndemnity,  proved  effective  for  their  purpose.  The  dread 
of  the  clansmen  passed  away,  and  the  SherifTs  writ  soon  ran  through 
the  Highlands  with  as  little  resistance  as  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh. 

Defeat  abroad  and  danger  at  home  only  quickened  the  resolve  of 
the  Pelhams  to  bring  the  war  with  Prussia  to  an  end.  When  England 
was  threatened  by  a  Catholic  Pretender,  it  was  no  time  for  weakening 
the  chief  Protestant  power  in  Germany.  On  the  refusal  of  Maria 
Theresa  to  join  in  a  general  peace,  England  concluded  the  Convention 
of  Hanover  with  Prussia,  and  withdrew  so  far  as  Germany  was  con- 
cerned from  the  war.  Elsewhere  however  the  contest  lingered  pn. 
The  victories  of  Maria  Theresa  in  Italy  were  balanced  by  those  of 
France  in  the  Netherlands,  where  Marshal  Saxe  inflicted  new  defeats 
on  the  English  and  Dutch  at  Roucoux  and  LauflTeld.  The  danger  of 
Holland  and  the  financial  exhaustion  of  France  at  last  brought  about 
the  conclusion  of  a  peace  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  by  which  England  sur- 
rendered its  gains  at  sea,  and  France  its  conquests  on  land.  But  the 
peace  was  a  mere  pause  in  the  struggle,  during  which  both  parties 
hoped  to  gain  strength  for  a  mightier  contest  which  they  saw  impend* 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


745 


ing.  The  war  was  in  fact  widening  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  Germany 
or  of  Europe.  It  was  becoming  a  world-wide  duel  which  was  to  settle 
the  destinies  of  mankind.  Already  France  was  claiming  the  valleys  of 
the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi,  and  mooting  the  great  question  whether 
the  fortunes  of  the  New  World  were  to  be  moulded  by  Frenchmen 
or  Englishmen.  Already  too  French  adventurers  were  driving  English 
merchants  from  Madras,  and  building  up,  as  they  trusted,  a  power 
which  was  to  add  India  to  the  dominions  of  France. 

The  early  intercourse  of  England  with  India  gave  little  promise  of 
the  great  fortunes  which  awaited  it.  It  was  not  till  the  close  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  a  century  after  Vasco  da  Gama  had  crept  round  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope  and  founded  the  Portuguese  settlement  on  the  Goa 
coast,  that  an  East  India  Company  was  estabhshed  in  London.  The 
trade,  profitable  as  it  was,  remained  small  in  extent ;  and  the  three 
early  factories  of  the  Company  were  only  gradually  acquired  during 
the  century  which  followed.  The  first,  that  of  Madras,  consisted  of 
but  six  fishermen's  houses  beneath  Fort  St.  George  ;  that  of  Bombay 
was  ceded  by  the  Portuguese  as  part  of  the  dowry  of  Catharine  of 
Braganza ;  while  Fort  William,  with  the  mean  village  which  has  since 
grown  into  Calcutta,  owes  its  origin  to  the  reign  of  William  the  Third. 
Each  of  these  forts  was  built  simply  for  the  protection  of  the  Com- 
pany's warehouses,  and  guarded  by  a  few  "  sepahis,"  sepoys,  or  paid 
native  soldiers  ;  while  the  clerks  and  traders  of  each  establishment 
were  under  the  direction  of  a  President  and  a  Council.  One  of  these 
clerks  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  Robert  Clive,  the 
son  of  a  small  proprietor  near  Market  Drayton  in  Shropshire,  an  idle 
dare-devil  of  a  boy  whom  his  friends  had  been  glad  to  get  rid  of  by 
packing  him  off  in  the  Company's  service  as  a  writer  to  Madras.  His 
early  days  there  were  days  of  wretchedness  and  despair.  He  was 
poor  and  cut  off  from  his  fellows  by  the  haughty  shyness  of  his 
temper,  weary  of  desk-work,  and  haunted  by  home-sickness.  Twice 
he  attempted  suicide ;  and  it  was  only  on  the  failure  of  his  second 
attempt  that  he  flung  down  the  pistol  which  baffled  him  with  a  con- 
viction that  he  was  reserved  for  higher  things. 

A  change  came  at  last  in  the  shcpe  of  war  and  captivity.  As  soon 
as  the  war  of  the  Austrian  Succession  broke  out,  the  superiority  of  the 
French  in  power  and  influence  tempted  them  to  expel  the  English  from 
India.  Labourdonnais,  the  governor  of  the  French  colony  of  the 
Mauritius,  besieged  Madras,  razed  it  to  the  ground,  and  carried  its 
clerks  and  merchants  prisoners  to  Pondicherry.  Clive  was  among 
these  captives,  but  he  escaped  in  disguise,  and  returning  to  the  settle- 
ment, threw  aside  his  clerkship  for  an  ensign's  commission  in  the  force 
which  the  Company  was  busily  raising.  For  the  capture  of  Madras 
had  not  only  established  the  repute  of  the  French  arms,  but  had  roused 
Dupleix,  the  governor  of  Pondicherry,   to    conceive   plans  for  the 

2  B* 


740 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


creation  of  a  French  empire  in  India.  When  the  English  merchants 
of  Elizabeth's  day  brought  their  goods  to  Surat,  all  India,  save  the 
south,  had  just  been  brought  for  the  first  time  under  the  rule  of  a 
single  great  power  by  the  Mogul  Emperors  of  the  line  of  Akbar.  But 
with  the  death  of  Aurungzebe,  in  the  reign  of  Anne,  the  Mogul  Empire 
fell  fast  into  decay.  A  line  of  feudal  princes  raised  themselves  to 
independence  in  Rajpootana.  The  lieutenants  of  the  Emperor  founded 
separate  sovereignties  at  Lucknow  and  Hyderabad,  in  the  Camatic, 
and  in  Bengal.  The  plain  of  the  Upper  Indus  was  occupied  by  a  race 
of  religious  fanatics  called  the  Sikhs.  Persian  and  Affghan  invaders 
crossed  the  Indus,  and  succeeded  even  in  sacking  Delhi,  the  capital  of 
the  Moguls.  Clans  of  systematic  plunderers,  who  were  known  under 
the  name  of  Mahrattas,  and  who  were  in  fact  the  natives  whom  con- 
quest had  long  held  in  subjection,  poured  down  from  the  highlands 
along  the  western  coast,  ravaged  as  far  as  Calcutta  and  Tanjore,  and 
finally  set  up  independent  states  at  Poonah  and  Gwalior.  Dupleix 
skilfully  availed  himself  of  the  disorder  around  him.  He  offered  his 
aid  to  the  Emperor  against  the  rebels  and  invaders  who  had  reduced 
his  power  to  a  shadow ;  and  it  was  in  the  Emperor's  name  that  he 
meddled  with  the  quarrels  of  the  states  of  Central  and  Southern  India, 
made  himself  virtually  master  of  the  Court  of  Hyderabad,  and  seated 
a  creature  of  his  own  on  the  throne  of  the  Carnatic.  Trichinopoly,  the 
one  town  which  held  out  against  this  Nabob  of  the  Camatic,  was  all 
but  brought  to  surrender  when  Clive,  in  175 1,  came  forward  with  a 
daring  scheme  for  its  relief  With  a  few  hundred  English  and  sepoys 
he  pushed  through  a  thunderstorm  to  the  surprise  of  Arcot,  the  Nabob's 
capital,  entrenched  himself  in  its  enormous  fort,  and  held  it  for  fifty 
days  against  thousands  of  assailants.  .Moved  by  his  gallantry',  the 
Mahrattas,  who  had  never  believed  that  Englishmen  would  fight 
before,  advanced  and  broke  up  the  siege ;  but  Clive  was  no  sooner 
freed  than  he  showed  equal  vigour  in  the  field.  At  the  head  of  raw 
recruits  who  ran  away  at  the  first  sound  of  a  gun,  and  sepoys  who  hid 
themselves  as  soon  as  the  cannon  opened  fire,  he  twice  attacked  and 
defeated  the  French  and  their  Indian  allies,  foiled  every  effort  of 
Dupleix,  and  razed  to  the  ground  a  pompous  pillar  which  the  French 
governor  had  set  up  in  honour  of  his  earlier  victories. 

Clive  was  recalled  by  broken  health  to  England,  and  the  fortunes 
of  the  struggle  in  India  were  left  for  decision  to  a  later  day.  But 
while  France  was  struggling  for  tlie  Empire  of  the  East  she  was 
striving  with  even  more  apparent  success  for  the  command  of  the  new 
world  of  the  West.  Populous  as  they  had  become,  the  English  settle- 
ments in  America  still  lay  mainly  along  the  sea-board  of  the  Atlantic  ; 
for  only  a  few  exploring  parties  had  penetrated  into  the  Alleghanies 
before  the  Seven  Years'  War  ;  and  Indian  tribes  wandered  unques- 
tioned along  the  lakes.     It  was  not  till  the  peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


747 


that  the  pretensions  of  France  drew  the  eyes  of  the  colonists  and  of 
English  statesmen  to  the  interior  of  the  Western  Continent.  Planted 
firmly  in  Louisiana  and  Canada,  France  openly  claimed  the  whole 
country  west  of  the  Alleghanies  as  its  own,  and  its  governors  now 
ordered  all  English  settlers  or  merchants  to  be  driven  from  the  valleys 
of  Ohio  or  Mississippi  which  were  still  in  the  hands  of  Indian  tribes. 
Even  the  inactive  Pelham  revolted  from  pretensions  such  as  these. 
The  original  French  settlers  were  driven  from  Acadia  or  Nova  Scotia, 
and  an  English  colony  founded  the  settlement  of  Halifax.  An  Ohio- 
Company  was  formed,  and  its  agents  made  their  way  to  the  valleys  of 
that  river  and  the  Kentucky  ;  while  envoys  from  Virginia  and  Penn- 
sylvania drew  closer  the  alliance  between  their  colonies  and  the  Indian 
tribes  across  the  mountains.  Nor  were  the  French  slow  to  accept  the 
challenge.  Fighting  began  in  Acadia.  A  vessel  of  war  appeared  in 
Ontario,  and  Niagara  was  turned  into  a  fort.  A  force  of  1,200  men 
despatched  to  Erie  drove  the  few  English  settlers  from  their  little 
colony  on  the  fork  of  the  Ohio,  and  founded  there  a  fort  called 
Duquesne,  on  the  site  of  the  later  Pittsburg.  The  fort  at  once  gave 
this  force  command  of  the  river  valley.  After  a  fruitless  attack  on  it 
under  George  Washington,  a  young  Virginian,  the  colonists  were 
forced  to  withdraw  over  the  mountains,  and  the  whole  of  the  west 
was  left  in  the  hands  of  France.  The  bulk  of  the  Indian  tribes  from 
Canada  as  far  as  the  Mississippi  attached  themselves  to  the  French 
cause,  and  the  value  of  their  aid  was  shown  in  1755,  when  General 
Braddock  led  a  force  of  English  soldiers  and  American  militia  to  an 
attack  upon  Fort  Duquesne.  The  force  was  utterly  routed  and  Brad- 
dock  slain.  The  Marquis  of  Montcalm,  who  in  1756  commanded  the 
French  forces  in  Canada,  was  gifted  with  singular  powers  of  adminis- 
tration. He  carried  out  with  even  more  zeal  than  his  predecessor  the 
plans  of  annexation  ;  and  the  three  forts  of  Duquesne  on  the  Ohio,  of 
Niagara  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  of  Ticonderoga  on  Lake  Champlain, 
were  linked  together  by  a  chain  of  lesser  forts,  which  cut  off  the 
English  colonists  from  all  access  to  the  west.  The  defeat  of  Braddock 
had  already  roused  England  to  its  danger,  for  it  was  certain  that  war  in 
America  would  be  followed  by  war  in  Europe.  The  ministers  looked 
on  a  league  with  Prussia,  as  the  only  means  of  checking  France  ;  but 
Frederick  held  cautiously  aloof,  while  the  advances  of  England  to  Prussia 
only  served  to  alienate  Maria  Theresa,  whose  one  desire  was  to  regain 
Silesia.  The  two  powers  of  the  House  of  Bourbon  were  still  bound  by 
the  Family  Compact ;  and  as  early  as  1752  Maria  Theresa  by  a  startling 
change  of  policy  drew  to  their  alliance.  The  jealousy  which  Russia 
entertained  of  the  growth  of  a  strong  power  in  North  Germany 
brought  the  Czarina  Elizabeth  to  promise  aid  to  the  schemes  of  the 
Queen  of  Hungary  ;  and  in  1755  the  league  of  the  four  powers  and 
of  Saxony  was  practically  completed.      So  secret  were  these  nego- 


748 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


tiations  that  they  remained  unknown  to  Henry  Pelham  and  to  his 
brother  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  who  succeeded  him  on  his  death  in 
1754  as  the  head  of  the  Ministry.  But  they  were  detected  from  the 
first  by  the  keen  eye  of  Frederick  of  Prussia,  who  saw  himself  fronted 
by  a  line  of  foes  that  stretched  from  Paris  to  St.  Petersburg. 

The  danger  to  England  was  hardly  less  ;  for  France  appeared  again 
on  the  stage  with  a  vigour  and  audacity  which  recalled  the  days  of 
Lewis  the  Fourteenth.  The  weakness  and  corruption  of  the  French 
government  were  screened  for  a  time'  by  the  daring  and  scope  of  its 
plans,  as  by  the  ability  of  the  agents  it  found  to  carry  them  out.  In 
England,  on  the  contrary,  all  was  vagueness  and  indecision.  It  was 
not  till  the  close  of  the  year  that  a  treaty  was  at  last  concluded  with 
the  Prussian  King.  With  this  treaty  between  England  and  Frederick 
began  the  Seven  Years'  War.  No  war  has  had  greater  results  on 
the  history  of  the  world  or  brought  greater  triumphs  to  England  ; 
but  few  have  had  more  disastrous  beginnings.  Newcastle  was  too 
weak  and  ignorant  to  rule  without  aid,  and  yet  too  greedy  of  power 
to  purchase  aid  by  sharing  it  with  more  capable  men.  His  pre- 
parations for  the  gigantic  struggle  before  him  may  be  guessed  from 
the  fact  that  there  were  but  three  regiments  fit  for  service  in  England 
at  the  opening  of  1756.  France,  on  the  other  hand,  was  quick  in 
her  attack.  Port  Mahon  in  Minorca,  the  key  of  the  Mediterranean, 
was  besieged  by  the  Duke  of  Richelieu  and  forced  to  capitulate. 
To  complete  the  shame  of  England,  a  fleet  sent  to  its  relief 
under  Admiral  Byng  retreated  before  the  French.  In  Germany 
Frederick  seized  Dresden  at  the  outset  of  the  war  and  forced  the 
Saxon  army  to  surrender  ;  and  in  1757  a  victory  at  Prague  made 
him  master  for  a  while  of  Bohemia  ;  but  his  success  was  transient, 
and  a  defeat  at  Kolin  drove  him  to  retreat  again  into  Saxony. 
In  the  same  year  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  who  had  taken  post 
on  the  Weser  with  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men  for  the  defence 
of  Hanover,  fell  back  before  a  French  army  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Elbe,  and  engaged  by  the  Convention  of  Closter-Seven  to  disband 
his  forces.  In  America  things  went  even  worse  than  in  Germany. 
The  inactivity  of  the  English  generals  was  contrasted  with  the  genius 
and  activity  of  Montcalm.  Already  masters  of  the  Ohio  by  the 
defeat  of  Braddock,  the  French  drove  the  English  garrison  from  the 
forts  which  commanded  Lake  Ontario  and  Lake  Champlain,  and 
their  empire  stretched  without  a  break  over  the  vast  territory  from 
Louisiana  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  A  despondency  without  parallel 
in  our  history  took  possession  of  our  coolest  statesmen,  and  even  the 
impassive  Chesterfield  cried  in  despair,  "  We  are  no  longer  a  nation." 

But  the  nation  of  which  Chesterfield  despaired  was  really  on  the  eve 
of  its  greatest  triumphs,  and  the  miserable  incapacity  of  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle  only  called  to  the  front  the  genius  of  William  Pitt.      Pitt 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


749 


was  the  grandson  of  a  wealthy  governor  of  Madras,  who  had  entered 
Parhament  in  1735  as  member  for  one  of  his  father's  pocket  boroughs, 
SLiiQ  had  headed  the  younger  "  patriots "  in  their  attack  on  Walpole. 
The  dismissal  from  the  army  by  which  Walpole  met  his  attacks  turned 
his  energy  wholly  to  politics.  His  fiery  spirit  was  hushed  in  office  during 
the  "  broad-bottom  administration  "  which  followed  Walpole's  fall,  but 
after  the  death  of  Henry  Pelham,  Newcastle's  jealousy  of  power  threw 
him  into  an  attitude  of  opposition  and  he  was  deprived  of  his  place. 
When  the  disasters  of  the  war  however  drove  Newcastle  from  office 
in  November  1756,  Pitt  became  Secretary  of  State  ;  but  in  four  months 
the  enmity  of  the  King  and  of  Newcastle's  party  drove  him  to  resign. 
In  July  1757,  however,  it  was  necessary  to  recall  him.  The  failure  of 
Newcastle  to  construct  an  administration  forced  the  Duke  to  a  junction 
with  his  rival ;  and  fortunately  for  their  country,  the  character  of  the 
two  statesmen  made  the  compromise  an  easy  one.  For  all  that  Pitt 
coveted,  for  the  general  direction  of  public  affairs,  the  control  of  foreign 
policy,  the  administration  of  the  war,  Newcastle  had  neither  capacity 
nor  inclination.  On  the  other  hand,  his  skill  in  parliamentary  manage- 
ment was  unrivalled.  If  he  knew  little  else,  he  knew  better  than  any 
living  man  the  price  of  every  member  and  the  intrigues  of  every 
borough.  What  he  cared  for  was  not  the  control  of  affairs,  but  the 
distribution  of  patronage  and  the  work  of  corruption,  and  from  this  Pitt 
turned  disdainfully  away.  "  Mr.  Pitt  does  everything,"  wrote  Horace 
Walpole,  "  and  the  Duke  gives  everything.  So  long  as  they  agree  in 
this  partition  they  may  do  what  they  please."  Out  of  the  union  of  these 
two  strangely-contrasted  leaders,  in  fact,  rose  the  greatest,  as  it  was  the 
last,  of  the  purely  Whig  administrations.  But  its  real  power  lay  from 
begmning  to  end  in  Pitt  himself  Poor  as  he  was,  for  his  income  was 
little  more  than  two  hundred  a  year,  and  springing  as  he  did  from  a 
family  of  no  political  importance,  it  was  by  sheer  dint  of  genius  that 
the  young  cornet  of  horse,  at  whose  youth  and  inexperience  Walpole 
had  sneered,  seized  a  power  which  the  Whig  houses  had  ever  since  the 
Revolution  kept  jealously  in  their  grasp.  His  ambition  had  no  petty 
aim.  "  I  want  to  call  England,"  he  said  as  he  took  office,  "  out  of  that 
enervate  state  in  which  twenty  thousand  men  from  France  can  shake 
her."  His  call  was  soon  answered.  He  at  once  breathed  his  own  lofty 
spirit  into  the  country  he  served,  as  he  communicated  something  of 
his  own  grandeur  to  the  men  who  served  him.  "  No  man,"  said  a 
soldier  of  the  time,  "  ever  entered  Mr.  Pitt's  closet  who  did  not  feel 
himself  braver  when  he  came  out  than  when  he  went  in."  Ill-combined 
as  were  his  earlier  expeditions,  many  as  were  his  failures,  he  roused  a 
temper  in  the  nation  at  large  which  made  ultimate  defeat  impossible. 
"  England  has  been  a  long  time  in  labour,"  exclaimed  Frederick  of 
Prussia  as  he  n  cognized  a  greatness  like  his  own,  "  but  she  has  at  last 
brought  forth  a  man." 


750 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLTSTI  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


It  is  this  personal  and  solitary  grandeur  which  strikes  us  most  as 
we  look  back  to  William  Pitt.  The  tone  of  his  speech  and  action 
stands  out  in  utter  contrast  with  the  tone  of  his  time.  In  the  midst  of 
a  society  critical,  polite,  indifferent,  simple  even  to  the  affectation  of 
simplicity,  witty  and  amusing  but  absolutely  prosaic,  cool  of  heart  and 
of  head,  sceptical  of  virtue  and  enthusiasm,  sceptical  above  all  of 
itself,  Pitt  stood  absolutely  alone.  The  depth  of  his  conviction,  his 
passionate  love  for  all  that  he  deemed  lofty  and  true,  his  fiery  energy, 
his  poetic  imaginativeness,  his  theatrical  airs  and  rhetoric,  his  haughty 
self-assumption,  his  pompousness  and  extravagance,  were  not  more 
puzzling  to  his  contemporaries  than  the  confidence  with  which  he 
appealed  to  the  higher  sentiments  of  mankind,  the  scorn  with  which 
he  turned  from  a  corruption  which  had  till  then  been  the  great  engine 
of  politics,  the  undoubting  faith  which  he  felt  in  himself,  in  the  grandeur 
of  his  aims,  and  in  his  power  to  carry  them  out.  "  I  know  that  I  can 
save  the  country,"  he  said  to  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  on  his  entry  into 
the  Ministry,  "  and  I  know  no  other  man  can."  The  groundwork  of 
Pitt's  character  was  an  intense  and  passionate  pride  ;  but  it  was  a  pride 
which  kept  him  from  stooping  to  the  level  of  the  men  who  had  so  long 
held  England  in  their  hands.  He  was  the  first  statesman  since  the 
Restoration  who  set  the  example  of  a  purely  public  spirit.  Keen  as 
was  his  love  of  power,  no  man  ever  refused  office  so  often,  or  accepted 
it  with  so  strict  a  regard  to  the  principles  he  professed.  "  I  will  not  go 
to  Court,"  he  replied  to  an  offer  which  was  made  him,  "  if  I  may  not 
bring  the  Constitution  with  me."  For  the  corruption  about  him  he  had 
nothing  but  disdain.  He  left  to  Newcastle  the  buying  of  seats  and  the 
purchase  of  members.  At  the  outset  of  his  career  Pelham  appointed 
him  to  the  most  lucrative  office  in  his  administration,  that  of  Paymaster 
of  the  Forces  ;  but  its  profits  were  of  an  illicit  kind,  and  poor  as  he  was 
Pitt  refused  to  accept  one  farthing  beyond  his  salary.  His  pride  never 
appeared  in  loftier  and  nobler  form  than  in  his  attitude  towards  the 
people  at  large.  No  leader  had  ever  a  wider  popularity  than  "the 
great  commoner,"  as  Pitt  was  styled,  but  his  air  was  always  that  of  a 
man  who  commands  popularity,  not  that  of  one  who  seeks  it.  He 
never  bent  to  flatter  popular  prejudice.  When  mobs  were  roaring 
themselves  hoarse  for  "  Wilkes  and  liberty,"  he  denounced  Wilkes  as 
a  worthless  profligate  ;  and  when  all  England  went  mad  in  its  hatred 
of  the  Scots,  Pitt  haughtily  declared  his  esteem  for  a  people  whose 
courage  he  had  been  the  first  to  enlist  on  the  side  of  loyalty.  His 
noble  figure,  the  hawk-like  eye  which  flashed  from  the  small  thin  face, 
his  majestic  voice,  the  fire  and  grandeur  of  his  eloquence,  gave  him  a 
sway  over  the  House  of  Commons  far  greater  than  any  other  minister 
has  possessed.  He  could  silence  an  opponent  with  a  look  of  scorn,  or 
hush  the  whole  House  with  a  single  word.  But  he  never  stooped 
to  the  arts  by  which  men  form  a  political  party,  and  at  the  height 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


751 


of  his  power  his  personal  following  hardly  numbered  half  a  dozen 
members. 

His  real  strength  indeed  lay  not  in  Parliament  but  in  the  people  at 
large.    His  significant  title  of  "  the  great  commoner  "  marks  a  political 
revolution.      "  It  is  the  people  who  have  sent  me  here,"  Pitt  boasted 
with  a  haughty  pride  when  the  nobles  of  the  Cabinet  opposed  his  will. 
He  was  the  first  to  see  that  the  long  political  inactivity  of  the  public 
mind  had  ceased,  and  that  the  progress  of  commerce  and  industry  had 
produced  a  great  middle  class,  which  no  longer  found  its  representa- 
tives in  the  legislature.  "  You  have  taught  me,"  said  George  the  Second 
when  Pitt  sought  to  save  Byng  by  appealing  to  the  sentiment  of  Parlia- 
ment, "  to  look  for  the  voice  of  my  people  in  other  places  than  within 
the  House  of  Commons."     It  was  this  unrepresented  class  which  had 
forced  him  into  power.  During  his  struggle  with  Newcastle  the  greater 
towns  backed  him  with  the  gift  of  their  freedom  and  addresses  of  con- 
fidence. "  For  weeks,"  laughs  Horace  Walpole,  "  it  rained  gold  boxes." 
London  stood  by  him  through  good  report  and  evil  report,  and  the 
wealthiest  of  English  merchants.  Alderman  Beckford,  was  proud  to 
figure  as  his  political  lieutenant.  The  temper  of  Pitt  indeed  harmonized 
admirably  with  the  temper  of  the  commercial  England  which  rallied 
round  him,  with  its  energy,  its  self-confidence,  its  pride,  its  patriotism, 
its  honesty,  its  moral  earnestness.     The  merchant  and  the  trader  were 
drawn  by  a  natural  attraction  to  the  one  statesman  of  their  time  whose 
aims  were  unselfish,  whose  hands  were  clean,  whose  life  was  pure  and 
full  of  tender  affection  for  wife  and  child.      But  there  was  a  far  deeper 
ground  for  their  enthusiastic  reverence  and  for  the  reverence  which  his 
country  has  borne  Pitt  ever  since.     He  loved  England  with  an  intense 
and  personal  love.      He  believed  in  her  power,  her  glory,  her  public 
virtue,  till  England  learned  to  believe  in  herself      Her  triumphs  were 
his  triumphs,  her  defeats  his  defeats.     Her  dangers  lifted  him  high 
above  all  thought  of  self  or  party-spirit.     "  Be  one  people,"  he  cried  to 
the  factions  who  rose  to  bring  about  his  fall:  "  forget  everything  but  the 
pubHc  !      I  set  you  the  example  !  "      His  glowing  patriotism  was  the 
real  spell  by  which  he  held  England.      But  even  the  faults  which 
chequered  his  character  told  for  him  with  the  middle  classes.      The 
Whig  statesmen  who  preceded  him  had  been  men  whose  pride  ex- 
pressed itself  in  a  marked  simplicity  and  absence  of  pretence.      Pitt 
was  essentially    an   actor,  dramatic  in   the    cabinet,   in  the  House, 
in  his  very  office.      He  transacted  business  with  his  clerks    in  full 
dress.      His  letters  to  his  family,  genuine  as  his  love  for  them  was, 
are  stilted  and  unnatural  in  tone.     It  was  easy  for  the  wits  of  his 
day  to  jest  at  his  affectation,  his  pompous  gait,  the  dramatic  appear- 
ance which  he  made  on  great  debates  with  his  limbs  swathed  in  flannel 
and  his  crutch  by  his  side.      Early  in  life  Walpole  sneered  at  him  for 
bnnging  into  the  House  of  Commons  "the  gestures  and  emotions  of 


752 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


the  stage."  But  the  classes  to  whom  Pitt  appealed  were  classes  not 
easily  offended  by  fault:.  oC  taste,  and  saw  nothing  to  laugh  at  in  the 
statesman  who  was  borne  into  the  lobby  amidst  the  tortures  of  the 
gout,  or  carried  into  the  House  of  Lords  to  breathe  his  last  in  a  protest 
against  national  dishonour. 

Above  all  Pitt  wielded  the  strength  of  a  resistless  eloquence.  The 
power  of  political  speech  had  been  revealed  in  the  stormy  debates  of 
th  Long  Parliament,  but  it  was  cramped  in  its  utterance  by  the  legal 
and  theological  pedantry  of  the  time.  Pedantry  was  flung  off  by  the 
age  f  he  Revolution,  but  in  the  eloquence  of  Somers  and  his  rivals 
we  see  ability  rather  than  genius,  knowledge,  clearness  of  expression, 
precision  of  thought,  the  lucidity  of  the  pleader  or  the  man  of  business, 
rather  than  the  passion  of  the  orator.  Of  this  clearness  of  statement 
Pitt  had  little  or  none.  He  was  no  ready  debater  like  Walpole,  no 
speaker  of  set  speeches  like  Chesterfield.  His-set  speeches  were  always 
his  worst,  for  in  these  his  want  of  taste,  his  love  ct  effect,  his  trite 
quotations  and  extravagant  metaphors  came  at  once  to  the  front. 
That  with  defects  like  these  he  stood  far  above  every  orator  of  his  time 
was  due  above  all  to  his  profound  convict,  n,  to  the  earnestness  and 
sincerity  with  which  he  spoke.  "  I  must  sit  still,"  he  whispered  once 
to  a  friend,  "  for  when  once  I  am  up  everything  that  is  in  my  mind 
comes  out."  But  the  reality  of  his  eloquence  was  transfigured  by  a 
large  and  poetic  imagination,  and  by  a  glow  of  passion  which  not  only 
raised  him  high  above  the  men  of  his  own  day  but  set  him  in  the  front 
rank  among  the  orators  of  the  world.  The  cool  reasoning,  the  wit,  the 
common  sense  of  his  age  made  way  for  a  splendid  audacity,  a  sympathy 
with  popular  emotion,  a  sustained  grandeur,  a  lofty  vehemence,  a 
command  over  the  whole  range  of  human  feeling.  He  passed  without 
an  effort  from  the  most  solemn  appeal  to  the  gayest  raillery,  from  the 
keenest  sarcasm  to  the  tenderest  pathos.  Every  word  was  driven 
home  by  the  grand  self-consciousness  of  the  speaker.  He  spoke  always 
as  one  having  authority.  He  was  in  fact  the  first  English  orator  whose 
words  were  a  power,  a  power  not  over  Parliament  only  but  over  the 
nation  at  large.  Parliamentary  reporting  was  as  yet  unknown,  and  it 
was  only  in  detached  phrases  and  half-remembered  outbursts  that  the 
voice  of  Pitt  reached  beyond  the  walls  of  St.  Stephen's.  But  it  was 
especially  in  these  sudden  outbursts  of  inspiration,  in  these  brief 
passionate  appeals,  that  the  power  of  his  eloquence  lay.  The  few 
broken  words  we  have  of  him  stir  the  same  thrill  in  men  of  our  day 
which  they  stirred  in  the  men  of  his  own.  But  passionate  as  was 
Pitt's  eloquence,  it  was  the  eloquence  of  a  statesman,  not  of  a 
rhetorician.  Time  has  approved  almost  all  his  greater  struggles,  his 
defence  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject  against  arbitrary  imprisonment 
under  "general  warrants,"  of  the  liberty  of  the  press  against  Lord 
Mansfield,  of  the  rights  of  constituencies  against  the  House  of  Conk 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


753 


mons,  of  the  constitutional  rights  of  America  against  England  itself. 
His  foreign  policy  was  directed  to  the  preservation  of  Prussia,  and 
Prussia  has  vindicated  his  foresight  by  the  creation  of  Germany. 
We  have  adopted  his  plans  for  the  direct  government  of  India  by 
the  Crown,  which  when  he  proposed  them  were  regarded  as  insane. 
Pitt  was  the  first  to  recognize  the  liberal  character  of  the  Church  of 
England.  He  was  the  first  to  sound  the  note  of  Parliamentary  reform. 
One  of  his  earliest  measures  shows  the  generosity  and  originality  of 
his  mind.  He  quieted  Scotland  by  employing  its  Jacobites  in  the 
service  of  their  country,  and  by  raising  Highland  regiments  among 
its  clans.  The  selection  of  Wolfe  and  Amherst  as  generals  showed 
his  contempt  for  precedent  and  his  inborn  knowledge  of  men. 

But  it  was  fortune  rather  than  his  genius  which  showered  on  Pitt 
the  triumphs  which  signalized  the  opening  of  his  ministry.  In  the 
East  the  daring  of  a  merchant's  clerk  made  a  company  of  English 
traders  the  sovereigns  of  Bengal,  and  opened  that  wondrous  career  of 
conquest  which  has  added  the  Indian  peninsula,  from  Ceylon  to 
the  Himalayas,  to  the  dominion  of  the  British  crown.  Recalled  by 
broken  health  to  England,  Clive  returned  at  the  outbreak  of  the 
Seven  Years'  War  to  win  for  England  a  greater  prize  than  that 
which  his  victories  had  won  for  it  in  the  supremacy  of  the  Carnatic. 
He  had  been  only  a  few  months  at  Madras  when  a  crime  whose 
horror  still  lingers  in  English  memories  called  him  to  Bengal.  Bengal, 
the  delta  of  the  Ganges,  was  the  richest  and  most  fertile  of  all  the 
provinces  of  India.  Its  rice,  its  sugar,  its  silk,  and  the  produce  of 
its  looms,  were  famous  in  European  markets.  Its  viceroys,  like  their 
fellow  lieutenants,  had  become  practically  independent  of  the  Emperor, 
and  had  added  to  Bengal  the  provinces  of  Orissa  and  Behar.  Surajah 
Dowlah,  the  master  of  this  vast  domain,  had  long  been  jealous  of 
the  enterprise  and  wealth  of  the  English  traders  ;  and,  roused  at  this 
moment  by  the  instigation  of  the  French,  he  appeared  before  Fort 
William,  seized  its  settlers,  and  thrust  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  them  into 
a  small  prison  called  the  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta.  The  heat  of  an 
Indian  summer  did  its  work  of  death.  The  wretched  prisoners  trampled 
each  other  under  foot  in  the  madness  of  thirst,  and  in  the  morning 
only  twenty-three  remained  alive.  Clive  sailed  at  the  news  with  a 
thousand  Enghshmen  and  two  thousand  sepoys  to  wreak  vengeance 
for  the  crime.  He  was  no  longer  the  boy-soldier  of  Arcot ;  and  the 
tact  and  skill  with  which  he  met  Surajah  Dowlah  in  the  negotiations 
by  which  the  Viceroy  strove  to  avert  a  conflict  were  sullied  by  the 
Oriental  falsehood  and  treachery  to  which  he  stooped.  But  his  courage 
remained  unbroken.  When  the  two  armies  faced  each  other  on  the 
plain  of  Plassey  the  odds  were  so  great  that  on  the  very  eve  of  the 
battle  a  council  of  war  counselled  retreat.  Clive  withdrew  to  a  grove 
hard  by,  and  after  an  hour's  lonely  musing  gave  the  word  to  fight. 


754 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Courage,  in  fact,  was  all  that  was  needed.  The  fifty  thousand  foot 
and  fourteen  thousand  horse  who  were  seen  covering  the  plain  at  day- 
break on  the  23rd  of  June,  1757,  were  soon  thrown  into  confusion  by 
the  English  guns,  and  broke  in  headlong  rout  before  the  English 
charge.  The  death  of  Surajah  Dowlah  enabled  the  Company  to  place 
a  creature  of  its  own  on  the  throne  of  Bengal  ;  but  his  rule  soon 
became  a  nominal  one.  With  the  victory  of  Plassey  began  in  fact 
the  Empire  of  England  in  the  East. 

The  year  of  Plassey  was  the  year  of  a  victory  hardly  less  important 
in  the  West.  There  was  little  indeed  in  the  military  expeditions  which 
marked  the  opening  of  Pitt's  ministry  to  justify  the  trust  of  his  country ; 
for  money  and  blood  were  lavished  on  buccaneering  descents  upon  the 
French  coasts  which  did  small  damage  to  the  enemy.  But  incidents 
such  as  these  had  little  weight  in  the  minister's  general  policy.  His 
greatness  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  recognized  the  genius  of  Frederick 
the  Great,  and  resolved  to  give  him  an  energetic  support.  On  his 
entry  into  office  he  refused  to  ratify  t^e  Convention  of  Closter- Seven, 
which  had  reduced  Frederick  to  despair  by  throwing  open  his  realm 
to  a  French  advance  ;  protected  his  flank  by  gathering  an  English 
and  Hanoverian  force  on  the  Elbe,  and  on  the  counsel  of  the  Prussian 
King  placed  the  best  of  his  generals,  the  Prince  of  Brunswick,  at  its 
head ;  while  subsidy  after  subsidy  were  poured  into  Frederick's  ex- 
hausted treasury.  Pitt's  trust  was  met  by  the  most  brilliant  display  of 
military  genius  which  the  modern  world  had  as  yet  witnessed.  Two 
months  after  his  repulse  at  Kolin,  Frederick  flung  himself  on  a  French 
army  which  had  advanced  into  the  heart  of  Germany,  and  annihilated 
it  in  the  victory  of  Rossbach.  Before  another  month  had  passed  he 
hurried  from  the  Saale  to  the  Oder,  and  by  a  yet  more  signal  victory 
at  Leuthen  cleared  Silesia  of  the  Austrians.  The  victory  of  Rossbach 
was  destined  to  change  the  fortunes  of  the  world  by  bringing  about 
the  unity  of  Germany ;  its  immediate  effect  was  to  force  the  French 
army  on  the  Elbe  to  fall  back  on  the  Rhine.  Here  Ferdinand  of 
Brunswick,  reinforced  with  twenty  thousand  English  soldiers,  held 
them  at  bay  during  the  summer,  while  Frederick,  foiled  in  an  attack 
on  Moravia,  drove  the  Russians  back  on  Poland  in  the  battle  of  Zom- 
dorf.  His  defeat  however  by  the  Austrian  General  Daun  at  Hoch- 
kirch  proved  the  first  of  a  series  of  terrible  misfortunes  ;  and  the  year 
1759  marks  the  lowest  point  of  his  fortunes.  A  fresh  advance  of  the 
Russian  army  forced  the  King  to  attack  it  at  Kunersdorf  in  August,  and 
Frederick's  repulse  ended  in  the  utter  rout  of  his  army.  For  the  moment 
all  seemed  lost,  for  even  Berlin  lay  open  to  the  conqueror.  A  few 
days  later  the  surrender  of  Dresden  gave  Saxony  to  the  Austrians ; 
and  at  the  close  of  the  year  an  attempt  upon  them  at  Plauen  was 
foiled  with  terrible  loss.  But  every  disaster  was  retrieved  by  the 
indomitable  courage  and  tenacity  of  the  King,  and  winter  found  him 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


755 


as  before  master  of  Silesia  and  of  all  Saxony  save  the  ground  which 
Daun's  camp  covered.  The  year  which  marked  the  lowest  point  of 
Frederick's  fortunes  was  the  year  of  Pitt's  greatest  triumphs,  the  year 
of  Minden  and  Quiberon  and  Quebec.  France  aimed  both  at  a 
descent  upon  England  and  at  the  conquest  of  Hanover,  and  gathered 
a  naval  armament  at  Brest,  while  fifty  thousand  men  under  Contades 
and  Broglie  united  on  the  Weser.  Ferdinand  with  less  than  forty 
thousand  met  them  on  the  field  of  Minden.  The  French  marched 
along  the  Weser  to  the  attack,  with  their  flanks  protected  by  that  river 
and  a  brook  which  ran  into  it,  and  with  their  cavalry,  ten  thousand 
strong,  massed  in  the  centre.  The  six  English  regiments  in  Ferdi- 
nand's army  fronted  the  French  horse,  and,  mistaking  their  general's 
order,  marched  at  onc^  upon  them  in  line,  regardless  of  the  batteries 
on  their  flank,  and  rolled  back  charge  after  charge  with  volleys  of 
musketry.  In  an  hour  the  French  centre  was  utterly  broken.  "  I  have 
seen,"  said  Contades,  "  what  I  never  thought  to  be  possible — a  single 
line  of  infantry  break  through  three  lines  of  cavalry,  ranked  in  order 
of  battle,  and  tumble  them  to  ruin  !  "  Nothing  but  the  refusal  of  Lord 
George  Sackville  to  complete  the  victory  by  a  charge  of  the  horse  which 
he  headed  saved  the  French  from  utter  rout.  As  it  was,  their  army 
again  fell  back  broken  on  Frankfort  and  the  Rhine.  The  project 
of  an  invasion  of  England  met  with  like  success.  Eighteen  thou- 
sand men  lay  ready  to  embark  on  board  the  French  fleet,  when 
Admiral  Hawke  came  in  sight  of  it  at  the  mouth  of  Quiberon  Bay. 
The  sea  was  rolling  high,  and  the  coast  where  the  French  ships  lay 
was  so  dangerous  from  its  shoals  and  granite  reefs  that  the  pilot 
remonstrated  with  the  English  admiral  against  his  project  of  attack. 
"You  have  done  your  duty  in  this  remonstrance,"  Hawke  coolly 
replied  ;  "  now  lay  me  alongside  the  French  admiral."  Two  English 
ships  were  lost  on  the  shoals,  but  the  French  fleet  was  ruined  and 
the  disgrace  of  Byng's  retreat  wiped  away. 

It  was  not  in  the  Old  World  only  that  the  year  of  Minden  and 
Quiberon  brought  glory  to  the  arms  of  England.  In  Europe,  Pitt  had 
wisely  limited  his  efforts  to  the  support  of  Prussia,  but  across  the 
Atlantic  the  field  was  wholly  his  own,  and  he  had  no  sooner  entered 
office  than  the  desultory  raids,  which  had  hitherto  been  the  only  re- 
sistance to  French  aggression,  were  superseded  by  a  large  and  com- 
prehensive plan  of  attack.  The  sympathies  of  the  colonies  were  won 
by  an  order  which  gave  their  provincial  officers  equal  rank  with  the 
royal  officers  in  the  field.  They  raised  at  Pitt's  call  twenty  thousand 
men,  and  taxed  themselves  heavily  for  their  support.  Three  expedi- 
tions were  simultaneously  directed  against  the  French  line— one  to  the 
Ohio  valley,  one  against  Ticonderoga  on  Lake  Champlain,  while  a 
third  under  General  Amherst  and  Admiral  Boscawen  sailed  to  the 
mouth   of  the   St.   Lawrence.      The  last  was  brilliantly  successful. 


756 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Louisburg,  though  defended  by  a  garrison  of  five  thousand  men,  was 
taken  with  the  fleet  in  its  harbour,  and  the  whole  province  of  Cape 
Breton  reduced.  The  American  militia  supported  the  British  troops 
in  a  vigorous  campaign  against  the  forts  ;  and  though  Montcalm,  with 
a  far  inferior  force,  was  able  to  repulse  General  Abercromby  from 
Ticonderoga,  a  force  from  Philadelphia  and  Virginia,  guided  and  in- 
spired by  the  courage  of  George  Washington,  made  itself  master  of 
Duquesne.  The  name  of  Pittsburg  which  was  given  to  their  new  con- 
quest still  commemorates  the  enthusiasm  of  the  colonists  for  the  great 
Minister  who  first  opened  to  them  the  West.  The  next  year  saw  the 
evacuation  of  Ticonderoga  before  the  advance  of  Amherst,  and  the  cap- 
ture of  Fort  Niagara  after  the  defeat  of  an  Indian  force  which  marched 
to  its  relief.  The  capture  of  the  three  forts  was  the  close  of  the  French 
effort  to  bar  the  advance  of  the  colonists  to  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi, 
and  to  place  in  other  than  English  hands  the  destinies  of  North 
America.  But  Pitt  had  resolved,  not  merely  to  foil  the  ambition  of 
Montcalm,  but  to  destroy  the  French  rule  in  America  altogether  ;  and 
while  Amherst  was  breaking  through  the  line  of  forts,  an  expedition 
under  General  Wolfe  entered  the  St.  Lawrence  and  anchored  below 
Quebec.  Wolfe  had  already  fought  at  Dettingen,  Fontenoy,  and 
Laffeldt,  and  had  played  the  first  part  in  the  capture  of  Louisburg. 
Pitt  had  discerned  the  genius  and  heroism  which  lay  hidden  beneath 
the  awkward  manner  and  the  occasional  gasconade  of  the  young  soldier 
of  thirty-three  whom  he  chose  for  the  crowning  exploit  of  the  war,  but 
for  a  while  his  sagacity  seemed  to  have  *ailed.  No  efforts  could  draw 
Montcalm  from  the  long  line  of  inaccessible  cliffs  which  at  this  point 
borders  the  river,  and  for  six  weeks  Wolfe  saw  his  men  wasting  away  in 
inactivity  while  he  himself  lay  prostrate  with  sickness  and  despair.  At 
last  his  resolution  was  fixed,  and  in  a  long  line  of  boats  the  army 
dropped  down  the  St.  Lawrence  to  a  point  at  the  base  of  the  Heights 
of  Abraham,  where  a  narrow  path  had  been  discovered  to  the  summit. 
Not  a  voice  broke  the  silence  of  the  night  save  the  voice  of  Wolfe 
himself,  as  he  quietly  repeated  the  stanzas  of  Gray's  "  Elegy  in  a 
Country  Churchyard,"  remarking  as  he  closed,  "  I  had  rather  be  the 
author  of  that  poem  than  take  Quebec."  But  his  nature  was  as  brave 
as  it  was  tender  ;  he  was  the  first  to  leap  on  shore  and  to  scale  the 
narrow  path  where  no  two  men  could  go  abreast.  His  men  followed, 
pulling  themselves  to  the  top  by  the  help  of  bushes  and  the  crags,  and 
at  daybreak  on  the  12th  of  September  the  whole  army  stood  in  orderly 
formation  before  Quebec.  Montcalm  hastened  to  attack,  though  his 
force,  composed  chiefly  of  raw  militia,  was  far  inferior  in  discipline  to 
the  English  ;  his  onset  however  was  met  by  a  steady  fire,  and  at  the 
first  English  advance  his  men  gave  way.  Wolfe  headed  a  charge 
which  broke  the  French  line,  but  a  ball  pierced  his  breast  in  the 
moment  of  victory.     "They  run,"  cried  an  officer  who  held  the  dying 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


757 


man  in  his  arms—"  I  protest  they  run."  Wolfe  rallied  to  ask  who 
they  were  that  ran,  and  was  told  "The  French."  "Then,"  he  mur- 
mured, "  I  die  happy  ! "  The  fall  of  Montcalm  in  the  moment  of  his 
defeat  completed  the  victory  ;  and  the  submission  of  Canada,  on  the 
capture  of  Montreal  by  Amherst  in  1760,  put  an  end  to  the  dream  of 
a  French  empire  in  America. 


Section  II.— The  Independence  of  America.    1761—1782. 

{Authorities. — The  two  sides  of  the  American  quarrel  have  been  told  with  the 
same  purpose  of  fairness  and  truthfulness,  though  with  a  very  different  bias,  by 
Lord  Stanhope  (**  History  of  England  from  the  Peace  of  Utrecht "),  and  Mr. 
Bancroft  ("  History  of  the  United  States  ").  The  latter  is  by  far  the  more  de- 
tailed and  picturesque,  the  former  perhaps  the  cooler  and  more  impartial  of  the 
two  narratives.  For  England  see  Mr.  Massey's  *'  History  of  England  from  the 
Accession  of  George  the  Third  ; "  Walpole's  "  Memoirs  of  the  Early  Reign  of 
George  the  Third  ; "  the  Rockingham  Memoirs  ;  the  Grenville  Papers  ;  the 
Bedford  Correspondence  ;  the  correspondence  of  George  the  Third  with  Lord 
North  ;  the  Letters  of  Junius  ;  and  Lord  Russell's  "  Life  and  Correspondence 
of  C.  J.  Fox."  Burke's  speeches  and  pamphlets  during  this  period,  above  all 
his  "Thoughts  on  the  Causes  of  the  Present  Discontents,"  are  indispensable 
for  any  real  knowledge  of  it.  The  Constitutional  History  of  Sir  Erskine  May 
all  but  compensates  us,  in  its  fulness  and  impartiality,  for  the  loss  of  Mr. 
Hallam's  comments.]  [Mr.  Lecky's  "History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth 
Century"  has  been  published  since  this  book  was  written. — Ed.'\ 

Never  had  England  played  so  great  a  part  in  the  history  of  mankind 
as  m  the  year  1759.  It  was  a  year  of  triumphs  in  every  quarter  of  the 
world.  In  September  came  the  news  of  Minden,  and  of  a  victory  off 
Lagos.  In  October  came  tidings  of  the  capture  of  Quebec.  November 
brought  word  of  the  French  defeat  at  Quiberon.  "  We  are  forced  to 
ask  every  morning  what  victory  there  is,"  laughed  Horace  Walpole, 
''  for  fear  of  missing  one."  But  it  was  not  so  much  in  the  number  as 
in  the  importance  of  its  triumphs  that  the  Seven  Years'  War  stood  and 
remains  still  without  a  rival.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  three 
of  its  many  victories  determined  for  ages  to  come  the  destinies  of  man- 
kind. With  that  of  Rossbach  began  the  re-creation  of  Germany,  the 
revival  of  its  political  and  intellectual  life,  the  long  process  of  its  union 
under  the  leadership  of  Prussia  and  Prussia's  kings.  With  that  of 
Plassey  the  influence  of  Europe  told  for  the  first  time  since  the  days  of 
Alexander  on  the  nations  of  the  East.  The  world,  in  Burke's  gorgeous 
phrase,  "  saw  one  of  the  races  of  the  north-west  cast  into  the  heart  of 
Asia  new  manners,  new  doctrines,  new  institutions."  With  the  triumph 
of  Wolfe  on  the  heights  of  Abraham  began  the  history  of  the  United 
States.  By  removing  an  enemy  whose  dread  had  knit  the  colonists  to 
the  mother  country,  and  by  breaking  through  the  line  with  which  France 
had  barred  them  from  the  basin  of  the  Mississippi,  Pitt  laid  the  founda- 


758 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


ftHAP. 


tion  of  the  great  republic  of  the  west.  Nor  were  these  triumphs  less, 
momentous  to  Britain.  The  Seven  Years'  War  is  a  turning-point  in 
our  national  history,  as  it  is  a  turning-point  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
Till  now  the  relative  weight  of  the  European  states  had  been  drawn 
from  their  possessions  within  Europe  itself.  But  from  the  close  of  the 
war  it  mattered  little  whether  England  counted  for  less  or  more  with 
the  nations  around  her.  She  was  no  longer  a  mere  European  power, 
no  longer  a  mere  rival  of  Germany  or  Russia  or  France.  Mistress  of 
Northern  America,  the  future  mistress  of  India,  claiming  as  her  own 
the  empire  of  the  seas,  Britain  suddenly  towered  high  above  the  nations 
whose  position  in  a  single  continent  doomed  them  to  comparative  in- 
significance in  the  after  history  of  the  world.  The  war  indeed  was  hardly 
ended  when  a  consciousness  of  the  destinies  that  lay  before  the  English 
people  showed  itself  in  the  restlessness  with  which  our  seamen  pene- 
trated into  far-off  seas.  The  Atlantic  was  dwindling  into  a  mere  strait 
within  the  British  Empire  ;  but  beyond  it  to  the  westward  lay  a  reach 
of  waters  where  the  British  flag  was  almost  unknown.  In  the  year 
which  followed  the  Peace  of  Paris  two  English  ships  were  sent  on 
a  cruise  of  discovery  to  the  Straits  of  Magellan  ;  three  years  later 
Captain  Wallis  reached  the  coral  reefs  of  Tahiti ;  and  in  1768  Captain 
Cook  traversed  the  Pacific  from  end  to  end,  and  wherever  he  touched, 
in  New  Zealand,  in  Australia,  he  claimed  the  soil  for  the  English 
Crown,  and  opened  a  new  world  for  the  expansion  of  the  English 
race.  Statesmen  and  people  alike  felt  the  change  in  their  country's 
attitude.  In  the  words  of  Burke,  the  Parliament  of  Britain  claimed 
"an  imperial  character  in  which  as  from  the  throne  of  heaven  she 
superintends  all  the  several  inferior  legislatures,  and  guides  and  con- 
trols them  all,  without  annihilating  any."  Its  people,  steeped  in  the 
commercial  ideas  of  the  time,  saw  in  the  growth  of  their  vast  posses- 
sions, the  monopoly  of  whose  trade  was  reserved  to  the  mother  country, 
a  source  of  boundless  wealth.  The  trade  with  America  alone  was  in 
1772  nearly  equal  to  what  England  carried  on  with  the  whole  world  at 
the  beginning  of  the  century.  To  guard  and  preserve  so  vast  and 
lucrative  a  dominion  became  from  this  moment  not  only  the  aim  of 
British  statesmen  but  the  resolve  of  the  British  people. 

From  the  time  when  the  Puritan  emigration  added  the  four  New 
England  States,  Massachusetts,  New  Hampshire,  Connecticut,  and 
Rhode  Island  to  those  of  Maryland  and  Virginia  the  progress  of  the 
English  colonies  in  North  America  had  been  slow,  but  it  had  never 
ceased.  Settlers  still  came,  though  in  smaller  numbers,  and  two  new 
colonies  south  of  Virginia  received  from  Charles  the  Second  theirname 
of  the  Carolinas.  The  war  with  Holland  transferred  to  British  rule  a 
district  claimed  by  the  Dutch  from  the  Hudson  to  the  inner  Lakes  ;  and 
this  country,  which  was  granted  by  Charles  to  his  brother,  received 
from  him  the  name  of  New  York.     Portions  were  soon  broken  off  from 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


759 


its  vast  territory  to  form  the  colonies  of  New  Jersey  and  Delaware.  In 
1682  a  train  of  Quakers  followed  William  Penn  across  the  Delaware 
into  the  heart  of  the  primaeval  forest,  and  became  a  colony  which 
recalled  its  founder  and  the  woodlands  among  which  he  planted  it  in 
its  name  of  Pennsylvania.  A  long  interval  elapsed  before  a  new  settle- 
ment, which  received  its  title  of  Georgia  from  the  reigning  sovereign, 
George  the  Second,  was  established  by  General  Oglethorpe  on  the 
Savannah  as  a  refuge  for  English  debtors  and  for  the  persecuted  Pro- 
testants of  Germany.  Slow  as  this  progress  seemed,  the  colonies  were 
really  growing  fast  in  numbers  and  in  wealth.  Their  whole  population 
amounted  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  to  about  1,200,000 
whites  and  a  quarter  of  a  million  of  negroes  ;  nearly  a  fourth  of  that  of 
the  mother  country.  The  wealth  of  the  colonists  was  growing  even 
faster  than  their  numbers.  As  yet  the  southern  colonies  were  the  more 
productive.  Virginia  boasted  of  its  tobacco  plantations,  Georgia  and 
the  Carolinas  of  their  maize  and  rice  and  indigo  crops,  while  New  York 
and  Pennsylvania,  with  the  colonies  of  New  England,  were  restricted 
to  their  whale  and  cod  fisheries,  their  corn  harvests  and  their  timber 
trade.  The  distinction  rndeed  between  the  Northern  and  Southern 
colonies  was  more  than  an  industrial  one.  In  the  Southern  States  the 
prevalence  of  slavery  produced  an  aristocratic  spirit  and  favoured  the 
creation  of  large  estates  ;  even  the  system  of  entails  had  been  intro- 
duced among  the  wealthy  planters  of  Virginia,  where  many  of  the 
older  English  families  found  representatives  in  houses  such  as  those 
of  Fairfax  and  Washington.  Throughout  New  England,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  characteristics  of  the  Puritans,  their  piety,  their  intolerance, 
their  simplicity  of  life,  their  love  of  equality  and  tendency  to  democratic 
institutions,  remained  unchanged.  In  education  and  political  activity 
New  England  stood  far  ahead  of  its  fellow  colonies,  for  the  settlement 
of  the  Puritans  had  been  followed  at  once  by  the  establishment  of  a 
system  of  local  schools  which  is  still  the  glory  of  America.  "  Every 
township,"  it  was  enacted, "  after  the  Lord  hath  increased  them  to  the 
number  of  fifty  householders,  shall  appoint  one  to  teach  all  children  to 
write  and  read  ;  and  when  any  town  shall  increase  to  the  number  of 
a  hundred  families,  they  shall  set  up  a  grammar  school." 

Great  however  as  these  differences  were,  and  great  as  was  to  be 
their  influence  on  American  history,  they  were  little  felt  as  yet.  In 
the  main  features  of  their  outer  organization  the  whole  of  the  colonies 
stood  fairly  at  one.  In  religious  and  in  civil  matters  alike  all  of  them 
contrasted  sharply  with  the  England  at  home.  Religious  tolerance  had 
been  brought  about  by  a  medley  of  religious  faiths  such  as  the  world 
had  never  seen  before.  New  England  was  still  a  Puritan  stronghold. 
In  all  the  Southern  colonies  the  Epis^-pal  Church  was  established  by 
law,  and  the  bulk  of  the  settlers  clung  to  it ;  but  Roman  Catholics  formed 
a,  large  part  of  the  population  of  Maryland.     Pennsylvania  was  a  State 


Sec.  II. 

The  Inde- 
pendence 
OP  America 

1761 

TO 

1782 


Their 
progress 


England 
and  the 
Colonie« 


76o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


of  Quakers.  Presbyterians  and  Baptists  had  fled  from  tests  and  per- 
secutions to  colonize  New  Jersey.  Lutherans  and  Moravians  from 
Germany  abounded  among  the  settlers  of  Carolina  and  Georgia.  In 
such  a  chaos  of  creeds  religious  persecution  became  impossible.  There 
was  the  same  outer  diversity  and  the  same  real  unity  in  the  political 
tendency  and  organization  of  the  States.  Whether  the  spirit  of  the 
colony  was  democratic,  moderate,  or  oligarchical,  its  form  of  govern- 
ment was  pretty  much  the  same.  The  original  rights  of  the  proprietor, 
the  projector  and  grantee  of  the  earliest  settlement,  had  in  all  cases, 
save  in  those  of  Pennsylvania  and  Maryland,  either  ceased  to  exist  or 
fallen  into  desuetude.  The  government  ot  each  colony  lay  in  a  House 
of  Assembly  elected  by  the  people  at  large,  with  a  Council  sometimes 
elected,  sometimes  nominated  by  the  Governor,  and  a  Governor  either 
elected,  or  appointed  by  the  Crown.  With  the  appointment  of  these 
Governors  all  administrative  interference  on  the  part  of  the  Govern- 
ment at  home  practically  ended.  The  colonies  were  left  by  a  happy 
neglect  to  themselves.  It  was  wittily  said  at  a  later  day  that  "  Mr. 
Grenville  lost  America  because  he  read  the  American  despatches,  which 
none  of  his  predecessors  ever  did."  There  was  little  room  indeed  for 
any  interference  within  the  limits  of  the  colonies.  Their  privileges 
were  secured  by  royal  charters.  Their  Assemblies  alone  exercised  the 
right  of  internal  taxation,  and  they  exercised  it  sparingly.  Walpole, 
like  Pitt  afterwards,  set  roughly  aside  the  project  for  an  American 
excise.  "  I  have  Old  England  set  against  me,"  he  said,  "  by  this 
measure,  and  do  you  think  I  will  have  New  England  too  ?  "  Even  in 
matters  of  trade  the  fipremacy  of  the  mother  country  was  far  from 
being  a  galling  one.  There  were  some  small  import  duties,  but  they 
were  evaded  by  a  well-understood  system  of  smuggling.  The  re- 
striction of  trade  with  the  colonies  to  Great  Britain  was  more  than 
compensated  by  the  commercial  privileges  which  the  Americans  en- 
joyed as  British  subjects.  As  yet,  therefore,  there  was  nothing  to 
break  the  good  will  which  the  colonists  felt  towards  the  mother 
country,  while  the  danger  of  French  aggression  drew  them  closely  to 
it.  But  strong  as  the  attachment  of  the  Americans  to  Britain  seemed 
at  the  close  of  the  war,  keen  lookers  on  saw  in  the  very  com- 
pleteness of  Pitt's  triumph  a  danger  to  their  future  union.  The 
presence  of  the  French  in  Canada,  their  designs  in  the  west,  had 
thrown  America  for  protection  on  the  mother-country.  But  with  the 
conquest  of  Canada  all  need  of  this  protection  was  removed.  The 
attitude  of  England  towards  its  distant  dependency  became  one  of 
mere  possession  :  and  differences  of  temper,  which  had  till  now  been 
thrown  into  the  background  by  the  higher  need  for  union,  started 
into  a  new  prominence.  If  questions  of  trade  and  taxation  awoke 
murmurings  and  disputes,  behind  these  grievances  lay  an  uneasy 
dread  at   the  democratic  form  which   the  government  and  society 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


761 


of  the  colonies  had  taken,  and  at  the  "  leveUing  principles "  which 
prevailed. 

To  check  this  republican  spirit,  to  crush  all  dreams  of  severance,  and  to 
strengthen  the  unity  of  the  British  Empire  was  one  of  the  chief  aims  of 
the  young  sovereign  who  mounted  the  throne  on  the  death  of  his  grand- 
father in  1760.  For  the  first  and  last  time  since  the  accession  of  the 
House  of  Hanover  England  saw  a  King  who  was  resolved  to  play  a  part 
in  English  politics  ;  and  the  part  which  George  the  Third  succeeded 
in  playing  was  undoubtedly  a  memorable  one.  In  ten  years  he  reduced 
government  to  a  shadow,  and  turned  the  loyalty  of  his  subjects  at  home 
into  disaffection.  In  twenty  he  had  forced  the  American  colonies  into 
revolt  and  independence,  and  brought  England  to  what  then  seemed 
the  brink  of  ruin.  Work  such  as  this  has  sometimes  been  done  by 
very  great  men,  and  often  by  very  wicked  and  profligate  men  ;  but 
George  was  neither  profligate  nor  great.  He  had  a  smaller  mind  than 
any  English  king  before  him  save  James  the  Second.  He  was 
wretchedly  educated,  and  his  natural  powers  were  of  the  meanest  sort. 
Nor  had  he  the  capacity  for  using  greater  minds  than  his  own  by 
which  some  sovereigns  have  concealed  their  natural  littleness.  On 
the  contrary,  his  only  feeling  towards  great  men  was  one  of  jealousy 
and  hate.  He  longed  for  the  time  when  '* decrepitude  or  death" 
might  put  an  end  to  Pitt ;  and  even  when  death  had  freed  him  from 
"  this  trumpet  of  sedition,"  he  denounced  the  proposal  for  a  public  ' 
monument  to  the  great  statesman  as  "  an  offensive  measure  to  me  per- 
sonally." But  dull  and  petty  as  his  temper  was,  he  was  clear  as  to  his 
purpose  and  obstinate  in  the  pursuit  of  it.  And  his  purpose  was  to 
rule.  "  George,"  his  mother,  the  Princess  of  Wales,  had  continually 
repeated  to  him  in  youth,  "George,  be  king."  He  called  himself 
always  "  a  Whig  of  the  Revolution,"  and  he  had  no  wish  to  undo  the 
work  which  he  believed  the  Revolution  to  have  done.  But  he  looked 
on  the  subjection  of  his  two  predecessors  to  the  will  of  their  ministers 
as  no  real  part  of  the  work  of  the  Revoluiion,  but  as  a  usurpation  of 
that  authority  which  the  Revolution  had  left  to  the  crown.  And  to 
this  usurpation  he  was  determined  not  to  submit.  His  resolve  was  to 
govern,  not  to  govern  against  law,  but  simply  to  govern,  to  be  freed 
from  the  dictation  of  parties  and  ministers,  and  to  be  in  effect  the  first 
Minister  of  the  State.  How  utterly  incompatible  such  a  dream  was 
with  the  Parliamentary  constitution  of  the  country  as  it  had  received 
its  final  form  from  Sunderland  it  is  easy  to  see  ;  but  George  was  re- 
solved to  carry  out  his  dream.  And  in  carrying  it  out  he  was  aided  by 
the  circumstances  of  the  time.  The  spell  of  Jacobitism  was  broken  by 
the  defeat  of  Charles  Edward,  and  the  later  degradation  of  his  life  wore 
finally  away  the  thin  coating  of  disloyalty  which  clung  to  the  clergy 
and  the  squires.  They  were  ready  again  to  take  part  in  politics,  and 
in  the  accession  of  a  king  who,  unlike  his  two  predecessors,  was  no 


762 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP. 


stranger  but  an  Englishman,  who  had  been  bom  in  England  and  spoke 
English,  they  found  the  opportunity  they  desired.  From  the  opening 
of  the  reign  Tories  gradually  appeared  again  at  court.  It  was  only 
slowly  indeed  that  the  party  as  a  whole  swung  round  to  a  steady 
support  of  the  Government  ;  but  their  action  told  at  once  on  the 
complexion  of  English  politics.  Their  withdrawal  from  public  affairs 
had  left  them  untouched  by  the  progress  of  political  ideas  since  the 
Revolution  of  1688,  and  when  they  returned  to  political  life  it  was 
to  invest  the  new  sovereign  with  all  the  reverence  which  they  had 
bestowed  on  the  Stuarts.  A  "  King's  party "  was  thus  ready  made 
to  his  hand  ;  but  George  was  able  to  strengthen  it  by  a  vigorous 
exertion  of  the  power  and  influence  which  was  still  left  to  the  Crown. 
All  promotion  in  the  Church,  all  advancement  in  the  army,  a  great 
number  of  places  in  the  civil  administration  and  about  the  court, 
were  still  at  the  King's  disposal.  If  this  vast  mass  of  patronage 
had  been  practically  usurped  by  the  ministers  of  his  predecessors, 
it  was  resumed  and  firmly  held  by  George  the  Third  ;  and  the  cha- 
racter of  the  House  of  Commons  made  patronage,  as  we  have  seen, 
a  powerful  engine  in  its  management.  George  had  one  of  Walpole's 
weapons  in  his  hands,  and  he  used  it  with  unscrupulous  energy  to 
break  up  the  party  which  Walpole  had  held  so  long  together.  He 
saw  that  the  Whigs  were  divided  among  themselves  by  the  factious 
spirit  which  springs  from  a  long  hold  of  office,  and  that  they  were 
weakened  by  the  rising  contempt  with  which  the  country  at  large  re- 
garded the  selfishness  and  corruption  of  its  representatives.  More  than 
thirty  years  before,  Gay  had  set  the  leading  statesmen  of  the  day  on 
the  public  stage  under  the  guise  of  highwaymen  and  pickpockets.  "  It 
is  difficult  to  determine,"  said  the  witty  playwright,  "  whether  the  fine 
gentlemen  imitate  the  gentlemen  of  the  road,  or  the  gentlemen  of  the 
road  the  fine  gentlemen."  And  now  that  the  "  fine  gentlemen  "  were 
represented  by  hoary  jobbers  such  as  Newcastle,  the  public  contempt 
was  fiercer  than  ever,  and  men  turned  sickened  from  the  intrigues 
and  corruption  of  party  to  a  young  sovereign  who  aired  himself  in  a 
character  which  Bolingbroke  had  invented,  as  a  Patriot  King. 

Had  Pitt  and  Newcastle  held  together,  supported  as  the  one  was  by 
the  commercial  classes,  the  other  by  the  Whig  families  and  the  whole 
machinery  of  Parliamentary  management,  George  must  have  struggled 
in  vain.  But  the  ministry  was  already  disunited.  The  Whigs,  attached 
to  peace  by  the  traditions  of  Walpole,  dismayed  at  the  enormous  ex- 
penditure, and  haughty  with  the  pride  of  a  ruling  oligarchy,  were  in 
silent  revolt  against  the  war  and  the  supremacy  of  the  Great  Com- 
moner. It  was  against  their  will  that  he  rejected  proposals  of  peace 
from  France  which  would  have  secured  to  England  all  her  conquests 
on  the  terms  of  a  desertion  of  Prussia,  and  that  his  steady  support 
enabled  Frederick  still  to  hold  out  against  the  terrible  exhaustion  of 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


763 


an  unequal  struggle.  The  campaign  of  1760  indeed  was  one  of  the 
grandest  efforts  of  Frederick's  genius.  Foiled  in  an  attempt  on 
Dresden,  he  again  saved  Silesia  by  a  victory  at  Liegnitz,  and  hurled 
back  an  advance  of  Daun  by  a  victory  at  Torgau  ;  while  Ferdinand 
of  Brunswick  held  his  ground  as  of  old  along  the  Weser.  But  even 
victories  drained  Frederick's  strength.  Men  and  money  alike  failed 
him.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  strike  another  great  blow,  and 
the  ring  of  enemies  again  closed  slowly  round  him.  His  one  remaining 
hope  lay  in  the  firm  support  of  Pitt,  and  triumphant  as  his  policy 
had  been,  Pitt  was  tottering  to  his  fall.  The  envy  and  resentment 
of  his  colleagues  at  his  undisguised  supremacy  found  a  supporter 
in  the  young  King.  The  Earl  of  Bute,  a  mere  Court  favourite, 
with  the  temper  and  abilities  of  a  gentleman  usher,  was  forced  into 
the  Cabinet.  As  he  was  known  to  be  his  master's  mouthpiece,  a 
peace-party  was  at  once  formed ;  but  Pitt  showed  no  signs  of  giving 
way.  In  1761  he  proposed  a  vast  extension  of  the  war.  He  had 
learnt  the  signature  of  a  treaty  which  brought  into  force  the  Family 
Compact  between  the  Courts  of  Paris  and  Madrid,  and  of  a  special 
convention  which  bound  the  last  to  declare  war  on  England  at  the 
close  of  the  year.  Pitt  proposed  to  anticipate  the  blow  by  an  instant 
seizure  of  the  treasure  fleet  which  was  on  its  way  from  the  Indies  to 
Cadiz,  by  occupying  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  by  an  attack  on 
the  Spanish  dominions  in  the  New  World.  But  his  colleagues  shrank 
from  plans  so  vast  and  daring ;  and  Newcastle  was  backed  in  his 
resistance  by  the  bulk  of  the  Whigs.  The  King  openly  supported 
them.  It  was  in  vain  that  Pitt  enforced  his  threat  of  resignation  by 
declaring  himself  responsible  to  "  the  people "  ;  and  the  resignation 
of  his  post  in  October  changed  the  face  of  European  affairs. 

"  Pitt  disgraced  ! "  wrote  a  French  philosopher,  "  it  is  worth  two 
victories  to  us  ! "  Frederick  on  the  other  hand  was  almost  driven  to 
despair.  But  George  saw  in  the  removal  of  his  powerful  minister  an 
opening  for  the  realization  of  his  long-cherished  plans.  Pitt's  appeal 
had  been  heard  by  the  people  at  large.  When  he  went  to  Guildhall  the 
Londoners  hung  on  his  carriage  wheels,  hugged  his  footmen,  and  even 
kissed  his  horses.  Their  break  with  Pitt  was  in  fact  the  death-blow 
of  the  Whigs.  Newcastle  found  he  had  freed  himself  from  the  great 
statesman  only  to  be  driven  from  office  by  a  series  of  studied  mortifica- 
tions from  his  young  master ;  and  the  more  powerful  of  his  Whig 
colleagues  followed  him  into  retirement.  George  saw  himself  trium- 
phant over  the  two  great  forces  which  had  hampered  the  free  action 
of  the  Crown,  "  the  power  which  arose,"  in  Burke's  words,  "  from 
popularity,  and  the  power  which  arose  from  political  connexion  ; " 
and  the  rise  of  Lord  Bute  to  the  post  of  First  Minister  marked  the 
triumph  of  the  King.  He  took  office  simply  as  an  agent  of  the  King's 
will ;  and  the  King's  will  was  to  end  the  war.     In  the  spring  of  1762 


Thb  Inde- 
pendence 
OF  America 

1761 

TO 

1782 


764 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  II. 

The  Inde- 
pendence 
OP  America 

1761 

TO 

1782 


Peace  of 
Paris 

Feb.   1763 


The 
House  of 
Commons 


Frederick,  who  still  held  his  ground  stubbornly  against  fate,  was 
brought  to  the  brink  of  ruin  by  a  withdrawal  of  the  English  subsidies  ; 
it  was  in  fact  only  his  dogged  resolution  and  a  sudden  change  in  the 
policy  of  Russia,  which  followed  on  the  death  of  his  enemy  the  Czarina 
Elizabeth,  that  enabled  him  at  last  to  retire  from  the  struggle  in  the 
Treaty  of  Hubertsberg  without  the  loss  of  an  inch  of  territory.  George 
and  Lord  Bute  had  already  purchased  peace  at  a  very  different  price. 
With  a  shameless  indifference  to  the  national  honour  they  not  only 
deserted  Frederick,  but  they  offered  to  negotiate  a  peace  for  him  on 
the  basis  of  a  cession  of  Silesia  to  Maria  Theresa  and  East  Prussia  to 
the  Czarina.  The  issue  of  the  strife  with  Spain  saved  England  from 
humiliation  such  as  this.  Pitt's  policy  of  instant  attack  had  been 
justified  by  a  Spanish  declaration  of  war  three  weeks  after  his  fall ; 
and  the  year  1762  saw  triumphs  which  vindicated  his  confidence  in 
the  issue  of  the  new  struggle.  Martinico,  the  strongest  and  wealthiest 
of  the  French  West  Indian  possessions,  was  conquered  at  the  opening 
of  the  year,  and  its  conquest  was  followed  by  those  of  Grenada,  St. 
Lucia,  and  St.  Vincent.  In  the  summer  the  reduction  of  Havana 
brought  with  it  the  gain  of  the  rich  Spanish  colony  of  Cuba.  The 
Philippines,  the  wealthiest  of  the  Spanish  colonies  in  the  Pacific, 
yielded  to  a  British  fleet.  It  was  these  losses  that  brought  about  the 
Peace  of  Paris.  So  eager  was  Bute  to  end  the  war  that  he  contented 
himself  in  Europe  with  the  recovery  of  Minorca,  while  he  restored 
Martinico  to  France,  and  Cuba  and  the  Philippines  to  Spain.  The 
real  gains  of  Britain  were  in  India  and  America.  In  the  first  the 
French  abandoned  all  right  to  any  military  settlement.  From  the 
second  they  wholly  withdrew.  To  England  they  gave  up  Canada, 
Nova  Scotia,  and  Louisiana  as  far  as  the  Mississippi,  while  they 
resigned  the  rest  of  that  province  to  Spain,  in  compensation  for  its 
surrender  of  Florida  to  the  British  Crown. 

The  anxiety  which  the  young  King  showed  for  peace  abroad  sprang 
mainly  from  his  belief  that  peace  was  needful  for  success  in  the  struggle 
for  power  at  home.  So  long  as  the  war  lasted  Pitt's  return  to  office 
and  the  union  of  the  Whigs  under  his  guidance  was  an  hourly  danger. 
But  with  peace  the  King's  hands  were  free.  He  could  count  on  the 
dissensions  of  the  Whigs,  on  the  new-born  loyalty  of  the  Tories,  on  the 
influence  of  the  Crown  patronage  which  he  had  taken  into  his  own 
hands.  But  what  he  counted  on  most  of  all  was  the  character  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  At  a  time  when  it  had  become  all-powerful  in  the 
State,  the  House  of  Commons  had  ceased  in  any  real  and  effective  sense 
to  be  a  representative  body  at  all.  That  changes  in  the  distribution  of 
seats  were  called  for  by  the  natural  shiftings  of  population  and  wealth 
since  the  days  of  Edward  the  First  had  been  recognized  as  early  as  the 
Civil  Wars  ;  but  the  reforms  of  the  Long  Parliament  were  cancelled  at 
the  Restoration.    From  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second  to  that  of  George 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


765 


the  Third  not  a  single  effort  had  been  made  to  meet  the  growing  abuses 
of  our  parliamentary  system.  Great  towns  like  Manchester  or  Birming- 
ham remained  without  a  member,  while  members  still  sat  for  boroughs 
which,  like  Old  Sarum,  had  actually  vanished  from  the  face  of  the 
earth.  The  effort  of  the  Tudor  sovereigns  to  establish  a  Court  party 
in  the  House  by  a  profuse  creation  of  boroughs,  most  of  which  were 
mere  villages  then  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown,  had  ended  in  the 
appropriation  of  these  seats  by  the  neighbouring  landowners,  who 
bought  and  sold  them  as  they  bought  and  sold  their  own  estates.  Even 
in  towns  which  had  a  real  claim  to  representation,  the  narrowing  of 
municipal  privileges  ever  since  the  fourteenth  century  to  a  small  part 
of  the  inhabitants,  and  in  many  cases  the  restriction  of  electoral  rights 
to  the  members  of  the  governing  corporation,  rendered  their  represent- 
ation a  mere  name.  The  choice  of  such  places  hung  simply  on  the 
purse  or  influence  of  politicians.  Some  were  "  the  King's  boroughs," 
others  obediently  returned  nominees  of  the  Ministry  of  the  day,  others 
were  "close  boroughs"  in  the  hands  of  jobbers  like  the  Duke  of  New- 
castle, who  at  one  time  returned  a  third  of  all  the  borough  members 
in  the  House.  The  counties  and  the  great  commercial  towns  could 
alone  be  said  to  exercise  any  real  right  of  suffrage,  though  the  enormous 
expense  of  contesting  such  constituencies  practically  left  their  represen- 
tation in  the  hands  of  the  great  local  famihes.  But  even  in  the  counties 
the  suffrage  was  ridiculously  limited  and  unequal.  Out  of  a  population 
of  eight  millions,  only  a  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  were  electors  at  alL 
How  far  such  a  House  was  from  really  representing  English  opinion 
we  see  from  the  fact  that  in  the  height  of  his  popularity  Pitt  could 
hardly  find  a  seat  in  it.  Purchase  was  becoming  more  and  more  the 
means  of  entering  Parliament.  Seats  were  bought  and  sold  in  the 
open  market  at  a  price  which  rose  to  four  thousand  pounds,  and 
we  can  hardly  wonder  that  a  reformer  could  allege  without  a  chance 
of  denial,  "This  House  is  not  a  representative  of  the  people  of 
Great  Britain.  It  is  the  representative  of  nominal  boroughs,  of  ruined 
and  exterminated  towns,  of  noble  families,  of  wealthy  individuals, 
of  foreign  potentates."  The  meanest  motives  naturally  told  on  a 
body  returned  by  such  constituencies,  cut  off  from  the  influence 
of  public  opinion  by  the  secrecy  of  Parliamentary  proceedings,  and 
yet  invested  with  almost  boundless  authority.  Walpole  and  New- 
castle had  made  bribery  and  borough-jobbing  the  base  of  their  power. 
George  the  Third  seized  it  in  his  turn  as  a  base  of  the  power  he 
proposed  to  give  to  the  Crown.  The  royal  revenue  was  employed 
to  buy  seats  and  to  buy  votes.  Day  by  day  George  himself  scruti- 
nized the  voting-list  of  the  two  Houses,  and  distributed  rewards  and 
punishments  as  members  voted  according  to  his  will  or  no.  Promo- 
tion in  the  civil  service,  preferment  in  the  Church,  rank  in  the  army, 
was  reserved  for  "  the  King's  friends."  Pensions  and  court  places  were 


766 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Sec.  II. 

The  Inde- 
pendence 
OF  America. 

1761 

TO 

1782 

Fall  of 
Bute 


Gtorg* 
"SrtnvilU 


used  to  influence  debates.  Bribery  was  employed  on  a  scale  never 
known  before.  Under  Bute's  ministry  an  office  was  opened  at  the 
Treasury  for  the  purchase  of  members,  and  twenty-five  thousand  pounds 
are  said  to  have  been  spent  in  a  single  day. 

The  result  of  these  measures  was  soon  seen  in  the  tone  of  the  Par- 
liament.    Till  now  it  had  bowed  beneath  the  greatness  of  Pitt ;  but  in 
the  teeth  of  his  denunciation  the  provisions  of  the  Peace  of  Paris  were 
approved  by  a  majority  of  five  to  one.     "  Now  indeed,"  cried  the 
Princess  Dowager, "  my  son  is  king."     But  the  victory  was  hardly  won 
when  King  and  minister  found  themselves  battling  with  a  storm  of 
popular  ill-will  such  as  never  since  the  overthrow  of  the  Stuarts  assailed 
the  throne.     Violent  and  reckless  as  it  was,  the  storm  only  marked  a 
fresh  advance  in  the  re-awakening  of  public  opinion.     The  Parliament 
indeed  had  become  supreme,  and  in  theory  the  Parliament  was  a  re- 
presentative of  the  whole  English  people.     But  in  actual  fact  the  bulk 
of  the  English  people  found  itself  powerless  to  control  the  course  of 
English  government.    For  the  first  and  last  time  in  our  history  Parlia- 
ment was  unpopular  and  its  opponents  sure  of  popularity.    The  House 
of  Commons  was  more  corrupt  than  ever,  and  it  was  the  slave  of 
the  King.     The  King  still  called  himself  a  Whig,  yet  he  was  reviving 
a  system  of  absolutism  which  Whiggism  had  long  made  impossible. 
His  minister  was  a  mere  favourite,  and  in  Englishmen's  eyes  a  foreigner. 
The  masses  saw  this,  but  they  saw  no  way  of  mending  it.     They  had 
no  means  of  influencing  the  Government  they  hated  save  by  sheer 
violence.     They  came  therefore  to  the  front  with  their  old  national 
and  religious  bigotry,  their  long-nursed   dislike  of  the   Hanoverian 
Court,  their  long-nursed  habits  of  violence  and  faction,  their  long- 
nursed  hatred  of  Parliament,  but  with  no  means  of  expressing  them 
save  riot  and  uproar.     Bute  found  himself  the  object  of  a  sudden  and 
universal  hatred  ;  and  in  1763  he  withdrew  from  office  as  a  means  of 
allaying  the  storm  of  popular  indignation.     But  the  King  was  made 
of  more  stubborn  stuff  than  his  minister.     If  he  suffered  his  favourite 
to  resign  he  still  regarded  him  as  the  real  head  of  administration  ; 
for  the  ministry  which  Bute  left  behind  him  consisted  simply  of  the 
more  courtly  of  his  colleagues.     George  Grenville  was  its  nominal 
chief,  but  its  measures  were  still  secretly  dictated  by  the  favourite. 
Charles  Townshend  and  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  the  two  ablest  of  the 
Whigs  who  had  remained  with  Bute  after  Newcastle's  dismissal,  re- 
fused to  join  it ;  and  its  one  man  of  al>ility  was  Lord  Shelbume,  a 
young  Irishman.     It  was  in  fact  only  the  disunion  of  its  opponents 
which  allowed  it  to  hold  its  ground.     Townshend  and  Bedford  re- 
mained apart  from  the  main  body  of  the  Whigs,  and  both  sections 
held  aloof  from  Pitt.      George  had  counted  on  the  divisions  of  the 
opposition  in  forming  such  a  ministry  ;  and  he  counted  on  the  weak- 
ness of  the  ministry  to  make  it  the  creature  of  his  will     But  Grenville 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


767 


had  no  mind  to  be  a  puppet  either  of  the  King  or  of  Bute ;  and 
the  conflicts  between  the  King  and  his  minister  soon  became  so  bitter 
that  George  appealed  in  despair  to  Pitt  to  form  a  ministry.  Never  had 
Pitt  shown  a  nobler  patriotism  or  a  grander  self-command  than  in  the 
reception  he  gave  to  this  appeal.  He  set  aside  all  resentment  at  his 
own  expulsion  from  office  by  Newcastle  and  the  Whigs,  and  made  the 
return  to  office  of  the  whole  party,  with  the  exception  of  Bedford,  a 
condition  of  his  own.  George  however  refused  to  comply  with  terms 
which  would  have  defeated  his  designs.  The  result  left  Grenville  as 
powerful  as  he  had  been  weak.  Bute  ceased  to  exercise  any  political 
influence.  On  the  other  hand,  Bedford  joined  Grenville  with  his 
whole  party,  and  the  ministry  thus  became  strong  and  compact. 

Grenville's  one  aim  was  to  enforce  the  supremacy  of  Parliament  over 
subject  as  over  King.  He  therefore  struck  fiercely  at  the  new  force  of 
opinion  which  had  just  shown  its  power  in  the  fall  of  Bute.  The 
opinion  of  the  country  no  sooner  found  itself  unrepresented  in  Parlia- 
ment than  it  sought  an  outlet  in  the  Press.  In  spite  of  the  removal  of 
the  censorship  after  the  Revolution  the  Press  had  been  slow  to  attain 
any  political  influence.  Under  the  first  two  Georges  its  progress  had 
been  hindered  by  the  absence  of  great  topics  for  discussion,  the  worth- 
lessness  of  the  writers,  and  above  all  the  lethargy  of  the  time.  It  was 
in  fact  not  till  the  accession  of  George  the  Third  that  the  impulse  which 
Pitt  had  given  to  the  national  spirit,  and  the  rise  of  a  keener  interest  in 
politics,  raised  the  Press  into  a  political  power.  The  nation  found  in 
it  a  court  of  appeal  from  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  journals 
became  organs  for  that  outburst  of  popular  hatred  which  drove  Lord 
Bute  from  office  ;  and  in  the  North  Briton  John  Wilkes  led  the  way 
by  denouncing  the  Cabinet  and  the  Peace  with  peculiar  bitterness, 
and  venturing  to  attack  the  hated  minister  by  name.  Wilkes  was  a 
worthless  profligate,  but  he  had  a  remarkable  faculty  of  enlisting 
popular  sympathy  on  his  side,  and  by  a  singular  irony  of  fortune  he 
became  the  chief  instrument  in  bringing  about  three  of  the  greatest 
advances  which  our  Constitution  has  ever  made.  He  woke  the  nation 
to  a  conviction  of  the  need  for  Parliamentary  reform  by  his  defence 
of  the  rights  of  constituencies  against  the  despotism  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  He  took  the  lead  in  the  struggle  which  put  an  end  to  the 
secrecy  of  Parliamentary  proceedings.  He  was  the  first  to  establish 
the  right  of  the  Press  to  discuss  public  affairs.  In  his  attack  on  the 
ministry  of  Lord  Bute,  however,  he  was  simply  an  organ  of  the  general 
discontent.  It  was  indeed  his  attack  which  more  than  all  else  deter- 
mined Bute  to  withdraw  from  office.  But  Grenville  was  of  stouter 
stuff  than  the  court  favourite,  and  his  administration  was  hardly  re- 
formed when  he  struck  at  the  growing  opposition  to  Parliament  by  a 
blow  at  its  leader.  In  "  Number  45  "  of  the  North  Briton  Wilkes  had 
censured  the  speech  from  the  throne  at  the  opening  of  Parliament,  and 


768 


IISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAI. 


a  "  general  warrant "  by  the  Secretary  of  State  was  issued  against  the 
"  authors,  printers,  and  publishers  of  this  seditious  libel."  Under  this 
warrant  forty-nine  persons  were  seized  for  a  time  ;  and  in  spite  of  his 
privilege  as  a  member  of  Parliament  Wilkes  himself  was  sent  to  the 
Tower.  The  arrest  however  was  so  utterly  illegal  that  he  was  at  once 
released  by  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas;  but  he  was  immediately  pro- 
secuted for  libel.  While  the  paper  which  formed  the  subject  for 
prosecution  was  still  before  the  courts  of  justice  it  was  condemned  by 
the  House  of  Commons  as  a  "false,  scandalous,  and  seditious  libel." 
The  House  of  Lords  at  the  same  time  voted  a  pamphlet  found  among 
Wilkes's  papers  to  be  blasphemous,  and  advised  a  prosecution.  Wilkes 
fled  to  France,  and  was  in  1764  expelled  from  the  House  of  Commons. 
But  the  assumption  of  an  arbitrary  judicial  power  by  both  Houses,  and 
the  system  of  terror  which  Grenville  put  in  force  against  the  Press  by 
issuing  two  hundred  injunctions  against  different  journals,  roused  a 
storm  of  indignation  throughout  the  country.  Every  street  resounded 
with  cries  of  "  Wilkes  and  Liberty."  It  was  soon  clear  that  opinion 
had  been  embittered  rather  than  silenced  by  the  blow  at  Wilkes  ;  and 
six  years  later,  the  failure  of  the  prosecution  directed  against  an 
anonymous  journalist  named  "Junius"  for  his  Letter  to  the  King  estab- 
lished the  right  of  the  Press  to  criticize  the  conduct  not  of  ministers  or 
Parliament  only,  but  of  the  sovereign  himself. 

The  same  narrowness  of  view,  the  same  honesty  of  purpose,  the  same 
obstinacy  of  temper,  were  shown  by  Grenville  in  a  yet  more  important 
struggle,  a  struggle  with  the  American  Colonies.  Pitt  had  waged  war 
with  characteristic  profusion,  and  he  had  defrayed  the  cost  of  the  war 
by  enormous  loans.  At  the  time  of  the  Peace  of  Paris  the  public  debt 
stood  at  a  hundred  and  forty  millions.  The  first  need  therefore  which 
met  Bute  after  the  conclusion  of  the  Peace  was  that  of  making  provision 
for  the  new  burthens  which  the  nation  had  incurred,  and  as  these  had 
been  partly  incurred  in  the  defence  of  the  American  Colonies  it  wasthe. 
general  opinion  of  Englishmen  that  the  Colonies  should  bear  a  share 
of  them.  In  this  opinion  Bute  and  the  King  concurred.  But  their 
plans  went  further  than  mere  taxation.  The  new  minister  declared 
himself  resolved  on  a  rigorous  execution  of  the  Navigation  laws,  laws 
by  which  a  monopoly  of  American  trade  was  secured  to  the  mother- 
country,  on  the  raising  of  a  revenue  within  the  Colonies  for  the  discharge 
of  the  debt,  and  above  all  on  impressing  upon  the  colonists  a  sense  of 
their  dependence  upon  Britain.  The  direct  trade  between  America  and 
the  French  or  Spanish  West  Indian  island^  had  hitherto  been  fettered 
by  prohibitory  duties,  but  these  had  been  easily  evaded  by  a  general 
system  of  smuggling.  The  duties  were  now  reduced,  but  the  reduced 
duties  were  rigorously  exacted,  and  a  considerable  naval  force  was 
despatched  to  the  American  coast  with  a  view  of  suppressing  the 
clandestine  trade  with  the  foreigner.     The  revenue  which  was  expected 


X-] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


70^ 


from  this  measure  was  to  be  supplemented  by  an  internal  Stamp  Tax, 
a  tax  on  all  legal  documents  issued  within  the  Colonies.  The  plans  of 
Bute  had  fallen  to  the  ground  on  his  retirement  from  office.  But  Grenville 
had  fully  concurred  in  the  financial  part  at  least  of  Bute's  designs  ;  and, 
now  that  he  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  strong  administration,  he 
proceeded  to  carry  out  the  plans  which  had  been  devised  for  the  purpose 
of  raising  both  an  external  and  an  internal  revenue  from  America. 
One  of  his  first  steps  was  to  suppress,  by  a  rigid  enforcement  of  the 
Navigation  laws,  the  contraband  trade  which  had  grown  up  between 
American  ports  and  the  adjacent  Spanish  islands.  Harsh  and  unwise 
as  these  measures  seemed,  the  colonists  owned  their  legality  ;  and  their 
resentment  only  showed  itself  in  a  pledge  to  use  no  British  manufactures 
till  the  restrictions  were  relaxed.  But  the  next  scheme  of  the  Minister 
— his  proposal  to  introduce  internal  taxation  within  the  bounds  of  the 
Colonies  themselves  by  reviving  the  project  of  an  excise  or  stamp  duty, 
which  Walpole's  good  sense  had  rejected — was  of  another  order  from 
his  schemes  for  suppressing  the  contraband  traffic.  Unlike  the  system 
of  the  Navigation  Acts,  it  was  a  gigantic  change  in  the  whole  actual 
relations  of  England  and  its  Colonies  They  met  it  therefore  in  another 
spirit.  Taxation  and  representation,  they  asserted,  went  hand  in  hand. 
America  had  no  representatives  in  the  British  Parliament.  The  repre 
sentatives  of  the  colonists  met  in  their  own  colonial  assemblies,  and  all 
save  the  Pennsylvanians  protested  strongly  against  the  interference  of 
Parliament  with  their  right  of  self-taxation.  Massachusetts  marked 
accurately  the  position  she  took.  "  Prohibitions  of  trade  are  neither 
equitable  nor  just ;  but  the  power  of  taxing  is  the  grand  barrier  of 
British  liberty.  If  that  is  once  broken  down,  all  is  lost."  The  distinc- 
tion was  accepted  by  the  assembly  of  every  colony  ;  and  it  was  with 
their  protest  that  they  despatched  Benjamin  Franklin,  who  had  risen 
from  his  position  of  a  working  printer  in  Philadelphia  to  high  repute 
among  scientific  discoverers,  as  their  agent  to  England.  In  England 
however  Franklin  found  few  who  recognized  the  distinction  which  the 
colonists  had  drawn.  Grenville  had  no  mind  to  change  his  plans 
without  an  assurance,  which  Franklin  could  not  give,  of  a  union  of  the 
Colonies  to  tax  themselves  ;  and  the  Stamp  Act  was  passed  through 
both  Houses  with  less  opposition  than  a  turnpike  bill. 

The  Stamp  Act  was  hardly  passed  when  an  insult  offered  to  the 
Princess  Dowager,  by  the  exclusion  of  her  name  from  a  Regency  Act, 
brought  to  a  head  the  quarrel  which  had  long  been  growing  between 
the  ministry  and  the  King.  George  again  offered  power  to  William 
Pitt.  But  Pitt  stood  absolutely  alone.  The  one  friend  who  remained 
to  him,  his  brother-in-law.  Lord  Temple,  refused  to  aid  in  an  attempt 
to  construct  a  Cabinet ;  and  he  felt  himself  too  weak,  when  thus 
deserted,  to  hold  his  ground  in  any  ministerial  combination  with  the 
Whigs.     The  King  turned  for  help  to  the  main  body  of  the  Whigs, 

2  C 


770 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAr. 


now  headed  by  the  Marquis  of  Rockingham.  The  weakness  of  the 
ministry  wnich  Rockingham  formed  in  July,  1765,  was  seen  in  its  slow- 
ness to  deal  with  American  affairs.  Franklin  had  seen  no  other  course 
for  the  Colonies,  when  the  obnoxious  Acts  were  passed,  but  that  of  sub- 
mission. But  submission  was  the  last  thing  the  colonists  dreamed  of. 
Everywhere  through  New  England  riots  broke  out  on  the  news  of  the 
arrival  of  the  stamped  paper  ;  and  the  frightened  collectors  resigned 
their  posts.  Northern  and  Southern  States  were  drawn  together  by 
the  new  danger.  The  assembly  of  Virginia  was  the  first  to  formally 
deny  the  right  of  the  British  Parliament  to  meddle  with  internal 
taxation,  and  to  demand  the  repeal  of  the  acts.  Massachusetts  not 
only  adopted  the  denial  and  the  demand  as  its  own,  but  proposed  a 
Congress  of  delegates  from  all  the  colonial  assemblies  to  provide  for 
common  and  united  action  ;  and  in  October  1765  this  Congress  met  to 
repeat  the  protest  and  petition  of  Virginia.  The  news  of  its  assembly 
reached  England  at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  at  once  called  Pitt  to  the 
front  when  the  Houses  met  in  the  spring  of  1766.  As  a  minister  he 
had  long  since  rejected  a  similar  scheme  for  taxing  the  colonies.  He 
had  been  ill  and  absent  from  Parliament  when  the  Stamp  Act  was 
passed,  but  he  adopted  to  the  full  the  constitutional  claim  of  America. 
He  gloried  in  a  resistance  which  was  denounced  in  Parliament  as 
rebellion.  "  In  my  opinion,''  he  said,  "  this  kingdom  has  no  right  to 
lay  a  tax  on  the  colonies.  .  .  America  is  obstinate  !  America  is  almost 
in  open  rebellion  !  Sir,  I  rejoice  that  America  has  resisted.  Three 
millions  of  people  so  dead  to  all  the  feelings  of  liberty  as  voluntarily  to 
submit  to  be  slaves  would  have  been  fit  instruments  to  make  slaves  of 
the  rest." 

There  was  a  general  desire  that  Pitt  should  return  to  office  ;  but  the 
negotiations  for  his  union  with  the  Whigs  broke  down.  The  radical 
difference  between  their  policy  and  that  of  Pitt  was  now  in  fact  de- 
fined for  them  by  the  keenest  political  thinker  of  the  day.  Edmund 
Burke  had  come  to  London  in  1750  as  a  poor  and  unknown  Irish 
adventurer.  The  learning  which  at  once  won  him  the  friendship  of 
Johnson,  and  the  imaginative  power  which  enabled  him  to  give  his 
learning  a  living  shape,  promised  him  a  philosophical  and  literary 
career :  but  instinct  drew  Burke  to  politics  ;  he  became  secretary  to 
Lord  Rockingham,  and  in  1765  entered  Parliament  under  his  patron- 
age. His  speeches  on  the  Stamp  Acts  at  once  lifted  him  into  fame. 
The  heavy  Quaker-like  figure,  the  scratch  wig,  the  round  spectacles, 
the  cumbrous  roll  of  paper  which  loaded  Burke's  pocket,  gave  little 
promise  of  a  great  orator  and  less  of  the  characteristics  of  his  oratory 
— its  passionate  ardour,  its  poetic  fancy,  its  amazing  prodigality  of 
resources;  the  dazzling  succession  in  which  irony,  pathos,  invective, 
tenderness,  the  most  brilliant  word-pictures,  the  coolest  argument 
followed  each  other.     It  was  an  eloquence  indeed  of  a  wholly  new 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


771 


order  in  English  experience.  Walpole's  clearness  of  statement,  Pitt's 
appeals  to  emotion,  were  exchanged  for  the  impassioned  expression  of 
a  distinct  philosophy  of  politics.  "  I  have  learned  more  from  him  than 
from  all  the  books  I  ever  read,"  Fox  cried  at  a  later  time,  with  a  burst 
of  generous  admiration.  The  philosophical  cast  of  Burke's  reasoning 
was  unaccompanied  by  any  philosophical  coldness  of  tone  or  phrase. 
The  groundwork  indeed  of  his  nature  was  poetic.  His  ideas,  if  con- 
ceived by  the  reason,  took  shape  and  colour  from  the  splendour  and 
fire  of  his  imagination.  A  nation  was  to  him  a  great  living  society,  so 
complex  in  its  relations,  and  whose  institutions  were  so  interwoven 
with  glorious  events  in  the  past,  that  to  touch  it  rudely  was  a  sacrilege. 
Its  constitution  was  no  artificial  scheme  of  government,  but  an 
exquisite  balance  of  social  forces  which  was  in  itself  a  natural  outcome 
of  its  history  and  developement.  His  temper  was  in  this  way  conser- 
vative, but  his  conservatism  sprang  not  from  9.  love  of  inaction  but 
from  a  sense  of  the  value  of  social  order,  and  from  an  imaginative 
reverence  for  all  that  existed.  Every  institution  was  hallowed  to  him 
by  the  clear  insight  with  which  he  discerned  its  relations  to  the  past, 
and  its  subtle  connexion  with  the  social  fabric  around  it.  To  touch 
even  an  anomaly  seemed  to  Burke  to  be  risking  the  ruin  of  a  complex 
structure  of  national  order  which  it  had  cost  centuries  to  build  up. 
"The  equilibrium  of  the  Constitution,"  he  said,  "has  something  so 
delicate  about  it,  that  the  least  displacement  may  destroy  it."  "  It  is 
a  difficult  and  dangerous  matter  even  to  touch  so  complicated  a 
machine."  Perhaps  the  readiest  refutation  of  such  a  theory  was  to  be 
found  in  its  influence  on  Burke's  practical  dealing  with  politics.  In 
the  great  question  indeed  which  fronted  him  as  he  entered  Parliament, 
it  served  him  well.  No  man  has  ever  seen  with  deeper  insight  the 
working  of  those  natural  forces  which  build  up  communities,  or  which 
group  communities  into  empires;  and  in  the  actual  state  of  the  Ameri- 
can Colonies  he  saw  a  result  of  such  forces  which  only  madmen  and 
pedants  would  disturb.  But  Burke's  theory  was  less  fitted  to  the  state 
of  politics  at  home.  He  looked  on  the  Revolution  of  1688  as  the  final 
establishment  of  EngHsh  institutions.  His  aim  was  to  keep  England 
as  the  Revolution  had  left  it,  and  under  the  rule  of  the  great  nobles 
who  were  faithful  to  the  Revolution.  He  gave  his  passionate  adhesion 
to  the  inaction  of  the  Whigs.  He  made  an  idol  of  Lord  Rockingham, 
an  honest  man,  but  the  weakest  of  party  leaders.  He  strove  to  check 
the  corruption  of  Parliament  by  a  bill  for  civil  retrenchment,  but  he 
took  the  lead  in  defeating  all  plans  for  its  reform.  Though  he  was  one 
of  the  few  men  in  England  who  understood  with  Pitt  the  value  of  free 
industry,  he  struggled  bitterly  against  the  young  Minister's  proposals 
to  give  freedom  to  Irish  trade,  and  against  his  Commercial  Treaty 
with  France.  His  work  seemed  to  be  that  of  investing  with  a  gorgeous 
poetry  the  policy  of  timid  content  which  the  Whigs  believed  they 


772 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


inherited  from  Sir  Robert  Walpole ;  and  the  very  intensity  of  his  trust 
in  the  natural  developement  of  a  people  rendered  him  incapable  of 
understanding  the  good  that  might  come  from  particular  laws  or  from 
special  reforms.  At  this  crisis  then  the  temper  of  Burke  squared  with 
the  temper  of  the  Whig  party.  Rockingham  and  his  fellow-ministers 
were  driven,  whether  they  would  or  no,  to  a  practical  acknowledgement 
of  the  policy  which  Pitt  demanded  ;  but  they  resolved  that  the  repeal 
of  the  Stamp  Acts  should  be  accompanied  by  a  formal  repudiation  of 
the  principles  of  colonial  freedom  which  Pitt  had  laid  down.  A  declara- 
tory act  was  brought  in,  which  asserted  the  supreme  power  of  Parlia- 
ment over  the  Colonies  "  in  all  cases  whatsoever."  The  passing  of 
this  act  was  followed  by  the  introduction  of  a  bill  for  the  repeal  of  the 
Stamp  Acts  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  resistance  of  the  King^s  friends,  a 
resistance  instigated  by  George  himself,  the  bill  was  carried  by  a 
large  majority. 

From  this  moment  the.  Ministry  was  unable  to  stand  against  the 
general  sense  that  the  first  man  in  the  country  should  be  its  ruler, 
and  bitter  as  was  the  King's  hatred  of  him,  he  was  forced  to  call  Pitt 
into  office.  Pitt's  aim  was  still  to  unite  the  Whig  party,  and  though 
forsaken  by  Lord  Temple,  he  succeeded  to  a  great  extent  in  the  adminis- 
tration which  he  formed  in  the  summer  of  1 766.  Though  Rockingham 
stood  coldly  aside,  some  of  his  fellow  ministers  accepted  office,  and  they 
were  reinforced  by  the  few  friends  who  clung  to  Pitt ;  while  Pitt  stooped 
to  strengthen  his  Parliamentary  support  by  admitting  some  even  ol 
the  "  King's  friends  "  to  a  share  in  the  administration.  But  its  life  lay 
really  in  Pitt  himself,  in  his  immense  popularity,  and  in  the  command 
which  his  eloquence  gave  him  over  the  House  of  Commons.  His 
acceptance  of  the  Earldom  of  Chatham  removed  him  to  the  House 
of  Lords,  and  for  a  while  ruined  the  confidence  which  his  reputation 
for  unselfishness  had  aided  him  to  win.  But  it  was  from  no  vulgar 
ambition  that  Pitt  laid  down  his  title  of  the  Great  Commoner.  It 
was  the  consciousness  of  failing  strength  which  made  him  dread  the 
storms  of  debate,  and  in  a  few  months  the  dread  became  a  certainty 
A  painful  and  overwhelming  illness,  the  result  of  nervous  disorganiza- 
tion, withdrew  him  from  public  aff"airs  ;  and  his  withdrawal  robbed  his 
colleagues  of  all  vigour  or  union.  The  plans  which  Chatham  had  set 
on  foot  for  the  better  government  of  Ireland,  the  transfer  of  India 
from  the  Company  to  the  Crown,  and  the  formation  of  an  alliance 
with  Prussia  and  Russia  to  balance  the  Family  Compact  of  the  House 
of  Bourbon,  were  suff"cred  to  drop.  The  one  aim  of  the  ministry  which 
bore  his  name,  and  which  during  his  retirement  looked  to  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  as  its  actual  head,  was  simply  to  exist.  But  even  existence 
was  difficult ;  and  Grafton  saw  himself  forced  to  a  union  with  the 
faction  which  was  gathered  under  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  to  the 
appointment  of  a  Tory  noble  as  Secretary  of  State. 


«.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


773 


The  force  of  public  opinioii  on  which  Pitt  had  relied  turned  at  once 
jsrgainst  the  ministry  which  had  so  drifted  from  its  former  position. 
The  elections  for  the  new  Parliament  were  more  corrupt  than  any  that 
had  been  yet  witnessed.     How  bitter  the  indignation  of  the  country 
had  grown  was  seen  in  its  fresh  backing  of  Wilkes.     He  seized  on  the 
opening  afforded  by  the  elections  to  return  from  France,  and  was  elected 
member  for  Middlesex,  a  county  the  large  number  of  whose  voters 
made  its  choice  a  real  expression  of  public  opinion.     The  choice  of 
Wilkes  was  in  effect  a  public  condemnation  of  the  House  of  Commons 
and  the  ministerial  system.     The  ministry  however  and  the  House 
alike  shrank  from  a  fresh  struggle  with  the  agitator  ;  but  the  King  was 
eager  for  the  contest.     After  ten  years  of  struggle  and  disappointment 
George  had  all  but  reached  his  aim.     The  two  forces  which  had  as 
yet  worsted  him  were  both  of  them  paralyzed.     The  Whigs  were  fatally 
divided,  and  discredited  in  the  eyes  of  the  country  by  their  antagonism 
to  Pitt.     Pitt,  on  the  other  hand,  was  suddenly  removed  from  the  stage. 
The  ministry  was  without  support  in  the  country  ;  and  for  Parliament- 
ary support  it  was  forced  to  lean  more  and  more  on  the  men  who 
looked  for  direction  to  the  King  himself.      One  form  of  opposition 
alone  remained  in  the  public  discontent ;  and  at  this  he  struck  more 
fiercely  than  ever.     "  I  think  it  highly  expedient  to  apprise  you,"  he 
wrote  to  Lord  North,  "  that  the  expulsion  of  Mr.  Wilkes  appears  to 
be  very  essential,  and  must  be  effected."    The  Ministers  and  the  House 
of  Commons  bowed  to  his  will.    By  his  non-appearance  in  court  when 
charged  with  libel,  Wilkes  had  become  an  outlaw,  and  he  was  now 
thrown  into  prison  on  his  outlawry.     Dangerous  riots  broke  out  in 
London  and  over  the  whole  country.     The  Ministry  were  torn  with 
dissensions.    The  announcement  of  Lord  Shelburne's  purpose  to  resigii 
office  was  followed  by  the  resignation  of  Chatham  himself ;  and  his 
withdrawal  from  the   Cabinet  which  traded  on  his   name  left  the 
Ministry  wholly  dependent  on  the  King.     In  1769  Wilkes  was  brought 
before  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  on  a  charge  of  libel,  a 
crime  which  was   cognizable   in  the   ordinary  courts  of  law  ;   and 
was  expelled  from  Parliament.     He  was   at  once  re-elected  by  the 
shire  of  Middlesex.     Violent  and   oppressive   as  the  course  of  the 
House  of  Commons  had  been,  it  had  as  yet  acted  within  its  strict 
right,  for  no   one  questioned  its  possession  of  a  right  of  expulsion. 
But  the  defiance  of  Middlesex  led  it  now  to  go  further.     It  resolved, 
"  That  Mr.  Wilkes  having  been  in  this  session  of  Parliament  expelled 
the   House,  was   and  is    incapable  of  being  elected   a  member  to 
serve  in  the  present  Parliament ; "  and  it  issued  a  writ  for  a  fresh 
election.     Middlesex  answered  this  insolent  claim  to  limit  tne  free 
choice  of  a  constituency  by  again  returning  Wilkes  ;  and  the  House 
was  driven  by  its  anger  to  a  fresh  and  more  outrageous  usurpation. 
It  again  expelled  the  member  for  Middlesex  ;  and  on  his  return  for 


774 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


the  third  time  by  an  immense  majority,  it  voted  that  the  candidate 
whom  he  had  defented,  Colonel  Luttrell,  ought  to  have  been  returned, 
and  was  the  legal  Representative  of  Middlesex.  The  Commons  had 
not  only  limited  at  iheir  own  arbitrary  discretion  the  free  election  of 
the  constituency,  but  they  had  transferred  its  rights  to  themselves 
by  seating  Luttrell  as  member  in  defiance  of  the  deliberate  choice  of 
Wilkes  by  the  freeholders  of  Middlesex.  The  country  at  once  rose 
indignantly  against  this  violation  of  constitutional  law.  Wilkes  was 
elected  an  Alderman  of  London  ;  and  the  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and 
Livery  petitioned  the  King  o  dissolve  the  Parliament.  A  remon- 
strance from  London  and  Westminster  said  boldly  that  "  there  is  a 
time  when  it  is  clearly  demonstrable  that  men  cease  to  be  representa- 
tives. That  time  is  now  arrived.  The  House  of  Commons  do  not 
represent  the  people."  Meanwhile  a  writer  who  styled  himself  Junius 
attacked  the  Government  in  letters,  whic,  rancorous  and  unscrupulous 
as  was  their  tone,  gave  a  new  power  to  the  literature  of  the  Press  by 
their  clearness  and  terseness  of  statement,  the  finish  of  their  style,  and 
the  terrible  vigour  of  their  invective. 

The  storm  however  beat  idly  on  the  obstinacy  of  the  King.  The 
printer  of  the  letters  was  prosecuted,  and  the  petitions  and  remon- 
strances of  London  were  haughtily  rejected.  At  the  beginning  of 
1770  a  cessation  of  the  disease  which  had  long  held  him  prostrate 
enabled  Chatham  to  reappear  in  the  House  of  Lords.  He  at  once 
denounced  the  usurpations  of  the  Commons,  and  brought  in  a  bill  to 
declare  them  illegal.  But  his  genius  made  him  the  first  to  see  that 
remedies  of  this  sort  were  inadequate  to  meet  evils  which  really  sprang 
from  the  fact  that  the  House  of  Commons  no  longer  represented  the 
people  of  England  ;  and  he  mooted  a  plan  for  its  reform  by  an  increase 
of  the  county  members,  who  then  formed  the  most  independent  portion 
of  the  House.  Further  he  could  not  go,  for  even  in  the  proposals  he 
made  he  stood  almost  alone.  The  Tories  and  the  King's  friends 
were  not  likely  to  welcome  schemes  which  would  lessen  the  King's 
influence.  The  Whigs  under  Lord  Rockingham  had  no  sympathy 
with  Parliamentary  reform  ;  and  they  shrank  with  haughty  disdain 
from  the  popular  agitation  in  which  public  ppinion  was  forced  to 
express  itself,  and  which  Chatham,  while  censuring  its  extravagance, 
deliberately  encouraged.  It  is  from  the  quarrel  between  Wilkes  and 
the  House  of  Commons  that  we  may  date  the  influence  of  public 
meetings  on  English  politics.  The  gatherings  of  the  Middlesex 
electors  in  his  support  were  preludes  to  the  great  meetings  of  Yorkshire 
freeholders  in  which  the  question  of  Parliamentary  reform  rose  into 
importance  ;  and  it  was  in  the  movement  for  reform,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  corresponding  committees  throughout  the  country  for  the 
purpose  of  promoting  it,  that  the  power  of  political  agitation  first  made 
itself  felt      Political  societies  and  clubs  took  their  part  in  this  quicken- 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


775 


ing  and  organization  of  public  opinion  :  and  the  spread  of  discussion, 
as  well  as  the  influence  which  now  began  to  br-^  exercised  by  the 
appearance  of  vast  numbers  of  men  in  suppotl;  of  any  political 
movement,  proved  that  Parliament  would  soon  have  to  reckon  with 
the  sentiments  of  the  people  at  large. 

But  an  agent  far  more  effective  than  popular  agitation  was  preparing- 
to  bring  the  force  of  public  opinion  to  bear  on  Parliament  itself.  We 
have  seen  how  much  of  the  corruption  of  the  House  of  Commons  sprang 
from  the  secrecy  of  Parliamentary  proceedings,  but  this  secrecy  was 
the  harder  to  preserve  as  the  nation  woke  to  a  greater  interest  in  its 
own  affairs.  From  the  accession  of  the  Georges  imperfect  reports  of 
the  more  important  discussions  began  to  be  published  under  the  title 
of  "  The  Senate  of  Lilliput,"  and  with  feigned  names  or  simple  initials 
to  denote  the  speakers.  Obtained  by  stealth  and  often  merely  recalled 
by  memory,  such  reports  were  naturally  inaccurate  ;  and  their  inaccu- 
racy was  eagerly  seized  on  as  a  pretext  for  enforcing  the  rules  which 
guarded  the  secrecy  of  proceedings  in  Parliament.  In  1771  the 
Commons  issued  a  proclamation  forbidding  the  publication  of  debates; 
and  six  printers,  who  set  it  at  defiance,  were  summoned  to  the  bar  of 
the  House.  One  who  refused  to  appear  was  arrested  by  its  messenger; 
but  the  arrest  at  once  brought  the  House  into  conflict  with  the 
magistrates  of  London.  They  set  aside  the  proclamation  as  without 
legal  force,  released  the  printers,  and  sent  the  messenger  to  prison  for 
an  unlawful  arrest.  The  House  sent  the  Lord  Mayor  to  the  Tower,  but 
the  cheers  of  the  crowds  which  followed  him  on  his  way  told  that  public 
opinion  was  again  with  the  Press,  and  the  attempt  to  hinder  its  publica- 
tion of  Parliamentary  proceedings  dropped  silently  on  his  release  at 
the  next  prorogation.  Few  changes  of  equal  importance  have  been  so 
quietly  brought  about.  Not  only  was  the  responsibility  of  members 
to  their  constituents  made  constant  and  effective  by  the  publication  of 
their  proceedings,  but  the  nation  itself  was  called  in  to  assist  in  the 
deliberations  of  its  representatives.  A  new  and  wider  interest  in  its 
own  affairs  was  roused  in  the  people  at  large,  and  a  new  political 
education  was  given  to  it  through  the  discussion  of  every  subject  of 
national  importance  in  the  Houses  and  the  Press.  Public  opinion,  as 
gathered  up  and  represented  on-  all  its  sides  by  the  journals  of  the 
day,  became  a  force  in  practical  statesmanship,  influenced  the  course 
of  debates,  and  controlled  in  a  closer  and  more  constant  way  than  even 
Parliament  itself  had  been  able  to  do  the  actions  of  the  Government. 
The  importance  of  its  new  position  gave  a  weight  to  the  Press  which 
it  had  never  had  before.  The  first  great  English  journals  date  from 
this  time.  With  the  Morning  Chronicle^  the  Morning  Post,  the 
Morning  Herald,  and  the  Ti7nes,  all  of  which  appeared  in  the  interval 
between  the  opening  years  of  the  American  War  and  the  beginning  of 
the  war  with  the  French  Revolution,  journalism  took  a  new  tone  of 


776 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


responsibility  and  intelligence.  The  hacks  of  Grub  Street  were  super- 
seded by  publicists  of  a  high  moral  temper  and  literary  excellence ; 
and  philosophers  like  Coleridge  or  statesmen  like  Canning  turned  to 
influence  public  opinion  through  the  columns  of  the  Press. 

But  as  yet  these  influences  were  feebly  felt,  and  George  the  Third 
was  able  to  set  Chatham's  policy  disdainfully  aside,  and  to  plunge  into 
a  contest  far  more  disastrous  than  his  contest  with  the  Press,  In  all 
the  proceedings  of  the  last  few  years,  what  had  galled  him  most  had 
been  the  act  which  averted  a  war  between  England  and  her  colonies. 
To  the  King  the  Americans  were  already  "rebels,"  and  the  great 
statesman  whose  eloquence  had  made  their  claims  irresistible  was  a 
"trumpet  of  sedition."  George  deplored  in  his  correspondence  with 
his  ministers  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Acts.  "  All  men  feel,"  he  wrote, 
"that  the  fatal  compliance  in  1766  has  increased  the  pretensions 
of  the  Americans  to  absolute  independence."  In  America  itself  the 
news  of  the  repeal  had  been  received  with  universal  joy,  and  taken  as 
a  close  of  the  strife.  But  on  both  sides  there  remained  a  pride  and 
irritability  which  only  wise  handling  could  have  allayed  ;  and  in  the 
present  state  of  English  politics  wise  handling  was  impossible.  Only 
a  few  months  indeed  passed  before  the  quarrel  was  re-opened  ;  for  no 
sooner  had  the  illness  of  Lord  Chatham  removed  him  in  1767  from  any 
real  share  in  public  affairs,  than  the  wretched  administration  which 
bore  his  name  suspended  the  Assembly  of  New  York  on  its  refusal  to 
provide  quarters  for  English  troops,  and  resolved  to  assert  British 
sovereignty  by  levying  import  duties  of  trivial  amount  at  American 
ports.  The  Assembly  of  Massachusetts  was  dissolved  on  a  trifling 
quarrel  with  its  Governor,  and  Boston  was  occupied  for  a  time  by 
British  soldiers.  The  remonstrances  of  the  Legislatures  of  Massachu- 
setts and  Virginia,  however,  coupled  with  a  fall  in  the  funds,  warned 
the  Ministers  of  the  dangerous  course  on  which  they  had  entered  ;  and 
in  1769  the  troops  were  withdrawn,  and  all  duties,  save  one,  abandoned. 
But  the  King  insisted  on  retaining  the  duty  on  tea  ;  and  its  retention 
was  enough  to  prevent  any  thorough  restoration  of  good  feeling.  A 
series  of  petty  quarrels  went  on  in  almost  every  colony  between  the 
popular  Assemblies  and  the  Governors  appointed  by  the  Crown,  and 
the  colonists  persisted  in  their  agreement  to  import  nothing  from  the 
mother  country.  As  yet  however  there  was  no  prospect  of  serious 
strife.  In  America  the  influence  of  George  Washington  allayed  the 
irritation  of  Virginia,  Massachusetts  contented  itself  with  quarrelling 
with  its  Governor,  and  refusing  to  buy  tea  so  long  as  the  duty  was 
levied.  In  England,  even  Grenville,  though  approving  the  retention 
of  the  duty  in  question,  abandoned  all  dream  of  further  taxation. 

But  the  King  was  now  supreme.  The  attack  of  Chatham  in  1770 
had  completed  the  ruin  of  the  Ministry.  Those  of  his  adherents  who 
still  clung  to  it  resigned  their  posts  ;  and  were  followed  by  the  Duke  of 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


777 


Grafton.  All  that  remained  were  the  Bedford  faction  and  the  depend- 
ents of  the  King ;  these  were  gathered  under  the  former  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer,  Lord  North,  into  a  ministry  which  was  in  fact  a  mere 
cloak  for  the  direction  of  public  affairs  by  George  himself.  "  Not  only 
did  he  direct  the  minister,"  a  careful  observer  tells  us,"  in  all  important 
matters  of  foreign  and  domestic  policy,  but  he  instructed  him  as  to  the 
management  of  debates  in  Parliament,  suggested  what  motions  should 
be  made  or  opposed,  and  how  measures  should  be  carried.  He  reserved 
for  himself  all  the  patronage,  he  arranged  the  whole  cast  of  administra- 
tion, settled  the  relative  place  and  pretensions  of  ministers  of  State,  law 
officers,  and  members  of  the  household,  nominated  and  promoted  the 
English  and  Scotch  judges,  appointed  and  translated  bishops  and  deans, 
and  dispensed  other  preferments  in  the  Church.  He  disposed  of  military 
governments,  regiments,  and  commissions,  and  himself  ordered  the 
marching  of  troops.  He  gave  and  refused  titles,  honours,  and  pensions." 
All  this  immense  patronage  was  steadily  uGed  for  the  creation  and 
maintenance  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament  of  a  majority  directed  by 
the  King  himself;  and  its  weight  was  seen  in  the*  steady  action  of  such 
a  majority.  It  was  seen  yet  more  in  the  subjection  to  which  the 
ministry  that  bore  North's  name  was  reduced.  George  was  in  fact 
the  minister  through  the  twelve  years  of  its  existence,  from  1770  till  the 
close  of  the  American  war ;  and  the  shame  of  the  darkest  hour  of 
English  history  lies  wholly  at  his  door. 

His  fixed  purpose  was  to  seize  on  the  first  opportunity  of  undoing 
the  "fatal  compliance  of  1766."  A  trivial  riot  gave  him  the  handle  he 
wanted.  In  December  1773  the  arrival  of  some  English  ships  laden 
with  tea  kindled  fresh  irritation  in  Boston,  where  the  non-importation 
agreement  was  strictly  enforced.  A  mob  in  the  disguise  of  Indians 
boarded  the  vessels  and  flung  their  contents  into  the  sea.  The  outrage 
was  deplored  alike  by  the  friends  of  America  in  England  and  by  its  own 
leading  statesmen  ;  and  both  Washington  and  Chatham  were  prepared 
to  support  the  Government  in  its  looked-for  demand  of  redress.  But 
the  thought  of  the  King  was  not  of  redress  but  of  repression,  and 
he  set  roughly  aside  the  more  conciliatory  proposals  of  Lord  North 
and  his  fellow- ministers.  They  had  already  rejected  as  "  frivolous  and 
vexatious"  a  petition  of  the  Assembly  of  Massachusetts  for  the  dis- 
missal of  two  public  officers  whose  letters  home  advised  the  withdrawal 
of  free  institutions  from  the  Colonies.  They  now  seized  on  the  riot 
as  a  pretext  for  rigorous  measures.  A  bill  introduced  into  Parlia- 
ment in  the  beginning  of  1774  p.mished  Boston  by  closing  its  port 
against  all  commerce.  Another  punished  the  State  of  Massachusetts 
by  withdrawing  the  liberties  it  had  enjoyed  ever  since  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  landed  on  its  soil.  Its  charter  was  altered.  The  choice  of 
its  Council  was  transferred  from  the  people  to  the  Crown,  and  the 
nomination  of  its  judges  was  transferred  to  the  Governor.     In  the 

2  C* 


Sec.  II. 

The  Indb- 

pendenck 

OF  America 

1761 

TO 

178a 


The 

Boston 

Tea- 

Riota 


778 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


Governor,  too,  by  a  provision  more  outrageous  than  even  these,  was 
vested  the  right  of  sending  all  persons  charged  with  a  share  in  the 
late  disturbances  to  England  for  trial.  To  enforce  these  measures  of 
repression  troops  were  sent  to  America,  and  General  Gage,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief there,  was  appointed  Governor  of  Massachusetts.  The 
King's  exultation  at  the  prospect  before  him  was  unbounded.  "  The 
die,"  he  wrote  triumphantly  to  his  minister,  *'  is  cast.  The  Colonies 
must  either  triumph  or  submit."  Four  regiments  would  be  enough  to 
bring  the  Americans  to  their  senses.  They  would  only  be  "lions 
while  we  are  lambs."  "  If  we  take  the  resolute  part,"  he  decided 
solemnly,  "they  will  undoubtedly  be  very  meek."  Unluckily,  the 
blow  at  Massachusetts  was  received  with  anything  but  meekness. 
The  jealousies  between  State  and  State  were  hushed  by  the  sense  that 
the  liberties  of  all  were  in  danger.  If  the  British  Parliament  could 
cancel  the  charter  of  Massachusetts  and  ruin  the  trade  of  Boston,  it 
could  cancel  the  charter  of  every  colony  and  ruin  the  trade  of  every 
port  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  coast  of  Georgia.  All  therefore 
adopted  the  cause  oP  Massachusetts  ;  and  all  their  Legislatures,  save 
that  of  Georgia,  sent  delegates  to  a  Congress  which  assembled  on  the 
4th  of  September  at  Philadelphia.  Massachusetts  took  a  yet  bolder 
course.  Not  a  citizen  would  act  under  the  new  laws.  Its  Assembly 
met  in  defiance  of  the  Governor,  called  out  the  militia  of  the  State,  and 
provided  arms  and  ammunition  for  it.  But  there  was  still  room  for 
reconciliation.  The  resolutions  of  the  Congress  had  been  moderate ; 
for  Virginia  was  the  wealthiest  and  most  influential  among  the  States 
who  sent  delegates  ;  and  though  resolute  to  resist  the  new  measures 
of  the  Government,  Virginia  still  clung  to  the  mother  country.  At 
home,  the  merchants  of  London  and  Bristol  pleaded  loudly  for 
reconciliation  ;  and  in  January  1775  Chatham  again  came  forward  to 
avert  a  strife  he  had  once  before  succeeded  in  preventing.  With 
characteristic  largeness  of  feeling  he  set  aside  all  half-measures  or 
proposals  of  compromise.  "  It  is  not  cancelling  a  piece  of  parchment," 
he  insisted,  "  that  can  win  back  America :  you  must  respect  her  fears 
and  for  resentments."  The  bill  which  he  introduced  in  concert  with 
Franklin  provided  for  the  repeal  of  the  late  acts  and  for  the  security 
of  the  colonial  charters,  abandoned  the  claim  to  taxation,  and  ordered 
the  recall  of  the  troops.  A  colonial  assembly  was  directed  to  meet 
and  provide  means  by  which  America  might  contribute  towards  the 
payment  of  the  public  debt. 

Chatham's  measure  was  contemptuously  rejected  by  the  Lords,  as 
was  a  similar  measure  of  Burke's  by  the  Commons,  and  a  petition  of 
the  City  of  London  in  favour  of  the  Colonies  by  the  King  himself. 
With  the  rejection  of  these  efforts  at  reconciliation  began  the  great 
struggle  which  ended  eight  years  later  in  the  severance  of  the  American 
Colonies  from  the  British  Crown.     The  Congress  of  delegates  from 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


779 


the  Colonial  Legislatures  at  once  voted  measures  for  general  defence, 
ordered  the  levy  of  an  army,  and  set  George  Washington  at  its  head. 
No  nobler  figure  ever  stood  in  the  forefront  of  a  nation's  life.  Wash- 
ington was  grave  and  courteous  in  address  ;  his  manners  were  simple 
and  unpretending ;  his  silence  and  the  serene  calmness  of  his  temper 
spoke  of  a  perfect  self-mastery  ;  but  there  was  little  in  his  outer 
bearing  to  reveal  the  grandeur  of  soul  which  lifts  his  figure,  with  all  the 
simple  majesty  of  an  ancient  statue,  out  of  the  smaller  passions,  the 
meaner  impulses  of  the  world  around  him.  What  recommended  him 
for  command  was  simply  his  weight  among  his  fellow  landowners  of 
Virginia,  and  the  experience  of  war  which  he  had  gained  by  service 
in  border  contests  with  the  French  and  the  Indians,  as  well  as  in 
Braddock's  luckless  expedition  against  Fort  Duquesne.  It  was  only 
as  the  weary  fight  went  on  that  the  colonists  learned  httle  by  little  the 
greatness  of  their  leader,  his  clear  judgment,  his  heroic  endurance,  his 
silence  under  difficulties,  his  calmness  in  the  hour  of  danger  or  defeat, 
the  patience  with  which  he  waited,  the  quickness  and  hardness  with 
which  he  struck,  the  lofty  and  serene  sense  of  duty  that  never  swerved 
from  its  task  through  resentment  or  jealousy,  that  never  through  war 
or  peace  felt  the  touch  of  a  meaner  ambition,  that  knew  no  aim  save 
that  of  guarding  the  freedom  of  his  fellow  countrymen,  and  no  personal 
longing  save  that  of  returning  to  his  own  fireside  when  their  freedom 
was  secured.  It  was  almost  unconsciously  that  men  learned  to  cling 
to  Washington  with  a  trust  and  faith  such  as  few  other  men  have  won, 
and  to  regard  him  with  a  reverence  which  still  hushes  us  in  presence 
of  his  memory.  Even  America  hardly  recognized  his  real  greatness 
till  death  set  its  seal  on  "  the  man  first  in  war,  first  in  peace,  and  first 
in  the  hearts  of  his  fellow  countrymen,"  Washington  more  than 
any  of  his  fellow  colonists  represented  the  clinging  of  the  Virginian 
landowners  to  the  mother  country,  and  his  acceptance  of  the  command 
proved  that  even  the  most  moderate  among  them  had  no  hope  now 
save  in  arms.  The  struggle  opened  with  a  skirmish  between  a  party 
of  English  troops  and  a  detachment  of  militia  at  Lexington,  and  in 
a  few  days  twenty  thousand  colonists  appeared  before  Boston.  The 
Congress  re-assembled,  declared  the  States  they  represented  "The 
United  Colonies  of  America,"  and  undertook  the  work  of  government. 
Meanwhile  ten  thousand  fresh  troops  landed  at  Boston  ;  but  the  pro- 
vincial militia  seized  the  neck  of  ground  which  joins  it  to  the  mainland, 
and  though  they  were  driven  from  the  heights  of  Bunker's  Hill  which 
commanded  the  town,  it  was  only  after  a  desperate  struggle  in  which 
their  bravery  put  an  end  for  ever  to  the  taunts  of  cowardice  which 
had  been  levelled  against  the  colonists.  "  Are  the  Yankees  cowards  ?  " 
shouted  the  men  of  Massachusetts,  as  the  first  English  attack  rolled 
back  baffled  down  the  hill-side.  But  a  far  truer  courage  was  shown 
in  the  stubborn  endurance  with  which  Washington's  raw  militiamen, 


78o 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


who  gradually  dwindled  from  sixteen  thousand  to  ten,  ill  fed,  ill  armed, 
and  with  but  forty-five  rounds  of  ammunition  to  each  man,  cooped  up 
through  the  winter  a  force  of  ten  thousand  veterans  in  the  lines  of 
Boston.  The  spring  of  1776  saw  them  force  these  troops  to  withdraw 
from  the  city  to  New  York,  where  the  whole  British  army,  largely  rein- 
forced by  mercenaries  from  Germany,  was  concentrated  under  General 
Howe.  Meanwhile  a  raid  of  the  American  General,  Arnold,  nearly 
drove  the  British  troops  from  Canada  ;  and  though  his  attempt  broke 
down  before  Quebec,  it  showed  that  all  hope  of  reconciliation  was  over. 
The  Colonies  of  the  south,  the  last  to  join  in  the  struggle,  had  in  fact 
expelled  their  Governors  at  the  close  of  1775  ;  ^^  the  opening  of  the 
next  year  Massachusetts  instructed  its  delegates  to  support  a  complete 
repudiation  of  the  King's  government  by  the  Colonies  ;  while  the 
American  ports  were  thrown  open  to  the  world  in  defiance  of  the  Navi- 
gation Acts.  These  decisive  steps  were  followed  by  the  great  act  with 
which  American  history  begins,  the  adoption  on  the  4th  of  July,  1776, 
by  the  delegates  in  Congress  of  a  Declaration  of  Independence.  "  We," 
ran  its  solemn  words,  "  the  representatives  of  the  United  States  of 
America  in  Congress  assembled,  appealing  to  the  Supreme  Judge  of 
the  world  for  the  rectitude  of  our  intentions,  solemnly  publish  and 
declare  that  these  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be.  Free 
and  Independent  States." 

The  earlier  successes  of  the  Colonists  were  soon  followed  by  suffering 
and  defeat.  Howe,  an  active  general  with  a  fine  army  at  his  back,  cleared 
Long  Island  in  August  by  a  victory  at  Brooklyn ;  and  Washington, 
whose  army  was  weakened  by  withdrawals  and  defeat,  and  disheartened 
by  the  loyal  tone  of  the  State  in  which  it  was  encamped,  was  forced  to 
evacuate  New  York  and  New  Jersey,  and  to  fall  back  first  on  the 
Hudson  and  then  on  the  Delaware.  The  Congress  prepared  to  fly 
from  Philadelphia,  and  a  general  despair  showed  itself  in  cries  of  peace. 
But  a  well-managed  surprise  and  a  daring  march  on  the  rear  of  Howe's 
army  restored  the  spirits  of  Washington's  men,  and  forced  the  English 
general  in  his  turn  to  fall  back  on  New  York.  The  campaign  of  1777 
opened  with  a  combined  effort  for  the  suppression  of  the  revolt  An 
army  assembled  in  Canada  under  General  Burgoyne  marched  by  way 
of  the  Lakes  to  seize  the  line  of  the  Hudson,  and  with  help  from  the 
army  at  New  York  to  cut  off  New  England  from  her  sister  prorinces. 
Howe  meanwhile  sailed  up  the  Chesapeake,  and  advanced  on  Phil- 
adelphia, the  temporary  capital  of  the  United  States  and  the  seat  of  the 
Congress.  The  rout  of  his  little  army  of  seven  thousand  men  at 
Brandywine  forced  Washington  to  abandon  Philadelphia,  and,  after  a 
bold  but  unsuccessful  attack  on  his  victors,  to  retire  into  winter  quarters 
on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill ;  where  the  unconquerable  resolve  with 
which  he  nerved  his  handful  of  beaten  and  half-starved  troops  to  face 
Howe's  army  in  their  camp  at  Valley  Forge  is  the  noblest  of  his 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


781 


triumphs.  But  in  the  north  the  war  had  taken  another  colour.  When 
Burgoyne  appeared  on  the  Upper  Hudson  he  found  the  road  to  Albany 
barred  by  an  American  force  under  General  Gates.  The  spirit  of  New 
England,  which  had  grown  dull  as  the  war  rolled  away  from  its  borders, 
quickened  again  at  the  news  of  invasion  and  of  the  outrages  committed 
by  the  Indians  whom  Burgoyne  employed  among  his  troops.  Its 
militia  hurried  from  town  and  homestead  to  the  camp  ;  and  after  a 
fruitless  attack  on  the  American  lines,  Burgoyne  saw  himself  sur- 
rounded on  the  heights  of  Saratoga.  On  the  1 7th  of  October  he  was 
compelled  to  surrender.  The  news  of  this  cal  imity  gave  force  to  the 
words  with  which  Chatham  at  the  very  time  of  the  surrender  was 
pressing  for  peace.  "  You  cannot  conquer  America,"  he  cried  when 
men  were  glorying  in  Howe's  successes.  "  If  I  were  an  American  as 
I  am  an  Englishman,  while  a  foreign  troop  was  landed  in  my  country, 
I  never  would  lay  down  my  arms — never,  never,  never  !  "  Then  in  a 
burst  of  indignant  eloquence  he  thundered  against  the  use  of  the  Indian 
and  his  scalping-knife  as  allies  of  England  against  her  children.  The 
proposals  which  Chatham  brought  forward  might  perhaps,  in  his  hands, 
even  yet  have  drawn  America  and  the  mother  country  together.  His 
plan  was  one  of  absolute  conciliation,  and  of  a  federal  union  between 
the  settlements  and  Great  Britain  which  would  have  left  the  Colonies 
absolutely  their  own  masters  in  all  matters  of  internal  government, 
and  linked  only  by  ties  of  affection  and  loyalty  to  the  general  body  of 
the  Empire.  But  it  met  with  the  same  fate  as  his  previous  proposals. 
Its  rejection  was  at  once  followed  by  the  news  of  Saratoga,  and  by  the 
yet  more  fatal  news  that  this  disaster  had  roused  the  Bourbon  Courts  to 
avenge  the  humiliation  of  the  Seven  Years'  War.  In  February  1778 
France  concluded  an  alliance  with  the  States.  Lord  North  strove  to 
meet  the  blow  by  fresh  offers  of  conciHation,  and  by  a  pledge  to  re- 
nounce for  ever  the  right  of  direct  taxation  over  the  Colonies  ;  but  he 
felt  that  the  time  for  conciliation  was  past,  while  all  hope  of  reducing 
America  by  force  of  arms  had  disappeared.  George  indeed  was  as 
obstinate  for  war  as  ever  ;  and  the  country,  stung  to  the  quick  by  the 
attack  of  France,  backed  passionately  the  obstinacy  of  the  King.  But 
unhke  George  the  Third,  it  instinctively  felt  that  if  a  hope  still  remained 
of  retaining  the  friendship  of  the  Colonies,  and  of  baffl-ing  the  efforts 
of  the  Bourbons,  it  lay  in  Lord  Chatham  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  King's 
resistance  the  voice  of  the  whole  country  called  him  back  to  power. 
But  on  the  eve  of  his  return  to  office  this  last  chance  was  shattered  by 
the  hand  of  death.  Broken  with  age  and  disease,  the  Earl  was  borne 
to  the  House  of  Lords  to  utter  in  afew  broken  words  his  protest  against 
the  proposal  to  surrender  America.  "  I  rejoice,"  he  murmured,  "  that 
I  am  still  alive  to  lift  up  my  voice  against  the  dismemberment  of  this 
ancient  and  noble  monarchy.  His  Majesty  succeeded  to  an  Empire 
as  great  in  extent  as  its  reputation  was  unsullied.     Seventeen  years 


782 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ago  this  people  was  the  terror  of  the  world."  He  listened  impatiently 
to  the  reply  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  and  again  rose  to  his  feet.  But 
he  had  hardly  risen  when  he  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  and 
falling  back  in  a  swoon  was  borne  home  to  die. 

From  the  hour  of  Chatham's  death  England  entered  on  a  conflict 
with  enemies  whose  circle  gradually  widened  till  she  stood  single- 
handed  against  the  world.  At  the  close  of  1778  Spain  joined  the 
league  of  France  and  America  against  her  ;  and  in  the  next  year  the 
joint  fleets  of  the  two  powers  rode  the  masters  of  the  Channel.  They 
even  threatened  a  descent  on  the  English  coast.  But  dead  as  Chatham 
was,  his  cry  woke  a  new  life  in  England.  "  Shall  we  fall  prostrate," 
he  exclaimed  with  his  last  breath,  "before  the  House  of  Bourbon.?" 
and  the  divisions  which  had  broken  the  nation  in  its  struggle  with 
American  liberty  were  hushed  in  the  presence  of  this  danger  to  its  own 
existence.  The  weakness  of  the  Ministry  was  compensated  by  the 
energy  of  England  itself  For  three  years,  from  1779  to  1782,  General 
Elliott  held  against  famine  and  bombardment  the  rock  fortress  of 
Gibraltar.  Although  a  quarrel  over  the  right  of  search  banded 
Holland  and  the  Courts  of  the  North  in  an  armed  neutrality  against 
her,  and  added  the  Dutch  fleet  to  the  number  of  her  assailants,  England 
held  her  own  at  sea.  Even  in  America  the  fortune  of  the  war  seemed 
to  turn.  After  Burgoyne's  surrender  the  English  generals  had  with- 
drawn from  Pennsylvania,  and  bent  all  their  eff"orts  on  the  South 
where  a  strong  Royalist  party  still  existed.  The  capture  of  Charles- 
town  and  the  successes  of  Lord  Comwallis  in  1780  were  rendered 
fruitless  by  the  obstinate  resistance  of  General  Greene  ;  but  the  States 
were  weakened  by  bankruptcy,  and  unnerved  by  hopes  of  aid  from 
France.    Meanwhile  England  was  winning  new  triumphs  in  the  East. 

Since  the  day  of  Plassey,  India  had  been  fast  passing  into  the  hands 
of  the  merchant  company  whose  traders  but  a  few  years  before  held 
only  three  petty  factories  along  its  coast.  The  victory  which  laid 
Bengal  at  the  feet  of  Clive  had  been  followed  in  1760  by  a  victory  at 
Wandewash,  in  which  Colonel  Coote's  defeat  of  Lally,  the  French 
Governor  of  Pondicherry,  established  British  supremacy  over  Southern 
India.  The  work  of  organization  had  soon  to  follow  on  that  of 
conquest ;  for  the  tyranny  and  corruption  of  the  merchant- clerks  who 
suddenly  found  themselves  lifted  into  rulers  was  fast  ruining  the 
province  of  Bengal ;  and  although  Clive  had  profited  more  than  any 
other  by  the  spoils  of  his  victory,  he  saw  that  the  time  had  come  when 
greed  must  give  way  to  the  responsibilities  of  power.  In  1765  he 
returned  to  India,  and  the  two  years  of  his  rule  were  in  fact  the  most 
glorious  years  in  his  life.     In  the  teeth  of  opposition  from  every  clerk 

f'  and  of  mutiny  throughout  the  army,  he  put  down  the  private  trading 
of  the  Company's  servants  and  forbade  their  acceptance  of  gifts  from 
I  the  natives.     Clive  set  an  example  of  disinterestedness  by  handing 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


783 


over  to  public  uses  a  legacy  which  had  been  left  him  by  the  prince  he 
had  raised  to  the  throne  of  Bengal ;  and  returned  poorer  than  he  went 
to  face  the  storm  his  acts  had  roused  among  those  who  were  interested 
in  Indian  abuses  at  home.  His  unsparing  denunciations  of  the  mis- 
government  of  Bengal  at  last  stirred  even  Lord  North  to  interfere  ; 
and  when  the  financial  distress  of  the  Company  drove  it  for  aid  to 
Government,  the  grant  of  aid  was  coupled  with  measures  of  adminis- 
trative reform.  The  Regulating  Act  of  1773  established  a  Governor- 
General  and  a  Supreme  Court  of  Judicature  for  all  British  possessions 
in  India,  prohibited  judges  and  members  of  Council  from  trading, 
forbade  any  receipt  of  presents  from  natives,  and  ordered  that  every 
act  of  the  Directors  should  be  signified  to  the  Government  to  be 
approved  or  disallowed.  The  new  interest  which  had  been  aroused  in 
the  subject  of  India  was  seen  in  an  investigation  of  the  whole  question 
of  its  administration  by  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
Clive's  own  early  acts  were  examined  with  unsparing  severity.  His 
bitter  complaint  in  the  Lords  that.  Baron  of  Plassey  as  he  was,  he  had 
been  arraigned  like  a  sheep-stealer,  failed  to  prevent  the  passing  of 
resolutions  which  censured  the  corruption  and  treachery  of  the  early 
days  of  British  rule  in  India.  Here,  however,  the  justice  of  the  House 
stopped.  When  his  accusers  passed  from  the  censure  of  Indian  mis- 
government  to  the  censure  of  Clive  himself,  the  memory  of  his  great 
deeds  won  from  the  House  of  Commons  a  unanimous  vote,  "  That 
Robert  Lord  Clive  did  at  the  same  time  render  great  and  meritorious 
services  to  his  country." 

By  the  Act  of  1773  Warren  Hastings  was  named  Governor- General 
of  Bengal,  with  powers  of  superintendence  and  control  over  the 
other  presidencies.  Hastings  was  sprung  of  a  noble  family  which 
had  long  fallen  into  decay,  and  poverty  had  driven  him  in  boy- 
hood to  accept  a  writership  in  the  Company's  service.  Clive,  whose 
quick  eye  discerned  his  merits,  drew  him  after  Plassey  into  political 
Hfe  ;  and  the  administrative  ability  he  showed,  during  the  disturbed 
period  which  followed,  raised  him  step  by  step  to  the  post  of  Governor 
of  Bengal.  N  o  man  could  have  been  better  fitted  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  the  new  office  which  the  Government  at  home  had  created 
without  a  thought  of  its  real  greatness.  Hastings  was  gifted  with 
rare  powers  of  organization  and  control.  His  first  measure  was  to 
establish  the  direct  rule  of  the  Company  over  Bengal  by  abolishing 
the  government  of  its  native  princes,  which,  though  it  had  become 
nominal,  hindered  all  plans  for  effective  administration.  The  Nabob  sank 
into  a  pensionary,  and  the.  Company's  new  province  was  roughly  but 
efficiently  organized.  Out  of  the  clerks  and  traders  about  him  Hastings 
formed  that  body  of  public  servants  which  still  remains  the  noblest 
product  of  our  rule  in  India.  The  system  of  law  and  finance  which 
be  devised,  hasty  and  imperfect  as  it  necessarily  was,  was  far  superior 


784 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA^ 


to  any  that  India  had  ever  seen.  Corruption  he  put  down  vrith  as 
firm  a  hand  as  Clive's,  but  he  won  the  love  of  the  new  "  civilians  "  as 
he  won  the  love  of  the  Hindoos.  Although  he  raised  the  revenue  of 
Bengal  and  was  able  to  send  home  every  year  a  surplus  of  half  a  million 
to  the  Company,  he  did  this  without  laying  a  fresh  burden  on  the 
natives  or  losing  their  good  will.  His  government  was  guided  by  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  and  sympathy  with  the  people.  At  a  time  when 
their  tongue  was  looked  on  simply  as  a  medium  of  trade  and  business, 
Hastings  was  skilled  in  the  languages  of  India ;  he  was  versed  in  native 
customs,  and  familiar  with  native  feeling.  We  can  hardly  wonder 
that  his  popularity  with  the  Bengalees  was  such  as  no  later  ruler  has 
ever  attained,  or  that  after  a  century  of  great  events  Indian  mothers 
still  hush  their  infants  with  the  name  of  Warren  Hastings. 

As  yet,  though  English  influence  was  great  in  the  south,  Bengal 
alone  was  directly  in  English  hands.  Warren  Hastings  recognized  a 
formidable  danger  to  the  power  of  Britain  in  that  ot  the  Mahrattas, 
freebooters  of  Hindoo  blood  whose  tribes  had  for  a  century  past 
carried  their  raids  over  India  from  the  hills  of  the  western  coast, 
and  founded  sovereignties  in  Guzerat,  Malwa,  and  Tanjore,  and  who 
were  bound  by  a  slight  tie  of  subjection  to  the  Mahratta  chief  who 
reigned  at  Poonah.  The  policy  of  Hastings  was  to  prevent  the 
Mahrattas  from  over- running  the  whole  of  India,  and  taking  the 
place  which  the  Mogul  Emperors  had  occupied.  He  bound  native 
princes,  as  in  Gudh  or  Berar,  by  treaties  and  subsidies,  crushed  without 
scruple  the  Rohillas  to  strengthen  his  ally  the  Nabob  Vizier  of  Gudh, 
and  watched  with  incessant  jealousy  the  growth  of  powers  even  as 
distant  as  the  Sikhs.  The  jealousy  of  France  sought  in  the  Mahrattas 
a  counterpoise  to  the  power  of  Britain,  and  through  their  chieftain  the 
French  envoys  were  able  to  set  the  whole  confederacy  in  motion  against 
the  English  presidencies.  The  danger  was  met  by  Hastings  with  charac- 
teristic swiftness  of  resolve.  His  difficulties  were  great.  For  two  years 
he  had  been  rendered  powerless  through  the  opposition  of  his  Council ; 
and  when  freed  from  this  obstacle  the  Company  pressed  him  inces- 
santly for  money,  and  the  Crown  more  than  once  strove  to  recall  him. 
His  own  general.  Sir  Eyre  Coote,  was  miserly,  capricious,  and  had  to 
be  humoured  like  a  child.  Censures  and  complaints  reached  him  with 
every  mail.  But  his  calm  self-command  never  failed.  No  trace  of  his 
embarrassments  showed  itself  in  his  work.  The  war  with  the  Mahrattas 
was  pressed  with  a  tenacity  of  purpose  which  the  blunders  of  subor- 
dinates and  the  inefficiency  of  the  soldiers  he  was  forced  to  use  never 
shook  for  a  moment.  Failure  followed  failure,  and  success  had  hardly 
been  wrung  from  fortune  when  a  new  and  overwhelming  danger 
threatened  from  the  south.  A  military  adventurer,  Hyder  Ali,  had 
built  up  a  compact  and  vigorous  empire  out  of  the  wreck  of  olde.- 
principalities  on  the  table-land  of  Mysore.     Tyrant  as  he  was,  no 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


78s 


native  rule  was  so  just  as  Ryder's,  no  statesmanship  so  vigorous.  He 
was  quickwitted  enough  to  discern  the  real  power  of  Britain,  and  only 
the  wretched  blundering  of  the  Council  of  Madras  forced  him  at  last 
to  the  conclusion  that  war  with  the  English  was  less  dangerous  than 
friendship  with  them.  Old  as  he  was,  his  generalship  retained  all  its 
energy  ;  and  a  disciplined  army,  covered  by  a  cloud  of  horse  and  backed 
by  a  train  of  artillery,  poured  down  in  1780  on  the  plain  of  the  Carnatic. 
The  small  British  force  which  met  him  was  driven  into  Madras,  and 
Madras  itself  was  in  danger.  The  news  reached  Hastings  when  he 
was  at  last  on  the  verge  of  triumph  over  the  Mahrattas  ;  but  his  triumph 
was  instantly  abandoned,  a  peace  was  patched  up,  and  every  soldier 
hurried  to  Madras.  The  appearance  of  Eyre  Coote  checked  the  pro- 
gress of  Hyder,  and  after  a  campaign  of  some  months  he  was  hurled 
back  into  the  fastnesses  of  Mysore.  India  was  the  one  quarter  of  the 
world  where  Britain  lost  nothing  during  the  American  war  ;  and  in  the 
annexation  of  Benares,  the  extension  of  British  rule  along  the  Ganges, 
the  reduction  of  Oudh  to  virtual  dependence,  the  appearance  of 
English  armies  in  Central  India,  and  the  defeat  of  Hyder,  the  genius 
of  Hastings  laid  the  foundation  of  an  Indian  Empire. 

But  while  England  triumphed  in  the  East,  the  face  of  the  war  in 
America  was  changed  by  a  terrible  disaster.  Foiled  in  an  attempt  on 
North  Carolina  by  the  refusal  of  his  fellow  general.  Sir  Henry  Clinton, 
to  assist  him,  Lord  Cornwallis  fell  back  in  1781  on  Virginia,  and  en- 
trenched himself  in  the  lines  of  York  Town.  A  sudden  march  of 
Washington  brought  him  to  the  front  of  the  English  troops  at  a 
moment  when  the  French  fleet  held  the  sea,  and  the  army  of  Corn- 
wallis was  driven  by  famine  to  a  surrender  as  humiliating  as  that  of 
Saratoga.  The  news  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the  wretched  Minister 
who  had  till  now  suppressed  at  his  master's  order  his  own  conviction 
of  the  uselessness  of  further  bloodshed.  Opening  his  arms  and  pacing 
wildly  up  and  down  his  room,  Lord  North  exclaimed  "  It  is  all  over," 
and  resigned.  England  in  fact  seemed  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  In 
the  crisis  of  the  American  struggle  Ireland  itself  turned  on  her.  A 
force  of  forty  thousand  volunteers  had  been  raised  in  1779  for  the 
defence  of  the  island  against  a  French  invasion.  Threats  of  an  armed 
revolt  backed  the  eloquence  of  two  Parliamentary  leaders,  Grattan  and 
Flood,  in  their  demand  for  the  repeal  of  Poynings'  Act,  which  took  all 
power  of  initiative  legislation  from  the  Irish  Parliament,  and  for  the 
recognition  of  the  Irish  House  of  Lords  as  an  ultimate  Court  of  Appeal. 
The  demands  were,  in  effect  a  claim  for  national  independence  ;  but 
there  were  no  means  of  resisting  them,  for  England  was  without  a 
soldier  to  oppose  the  volunteers.  The  fall  of  Lord  North  recalled  the 
Whigs  under  Lord  Rockingham  to  office  ;  and  on  Rockingham  fell 
the  double  task  of  satisfying  Ireland  and  of  putting  an  end,  at  any 
cost,  to  the  war  with  the  United  States.  The  task  involved  in  both 
quarters  a  humiliating  surrender ;  and  it  needed  the  bitter  stress  of 


7S6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


necessity  to  induce  the  Houses  to  follow  his  counsels.  The  English 
Parliament  abandoned  by  a  formal  statute  the  judicial  and  legisla- 
tive supremacy  it  had  till  then  asserted  over  the  Parliament  of 
Ireland  ;  and  negotiations  were  begun  with  America  and  its  allies. 
In  the  difficulties  of  England  the  hopes  of  her  enemies  rose  high. 
Spain  refused  to  suspend  hostilities  at  any  other  price  than  the 
surrender  of  Gibraltar.  France  proposed  that  England  should  give 
up  all  her  Indian  conquests  save  Bengal.  But  the  true  basis  of  her 
world-power  lay  on  the  sea  ;  and  at  this  moment  the  command  of  the 
seas  again  became  her  own.  Admiral  Rodney,  the  greatest  of  English 
seamen  save  Nelson  and  Blake,  had  in  January,  1780,  encountered  the 
Spanish  fleet  off  Cape  St.  Vincent,  and  only  four  of  its  vessels  escaped 
to  Cadiz.  Two  years  later  the  triumphs  of  the  French  Admiral  De 
Grasse  called  him  to  the  West  Indies,  and  in  April  1782,  a  manoeuvre 
which  he  was  the  first  to  introduce  brolie  his  opponent's  line,  and  drove 
the  French  fleet  shattered  from  the  Atlantic.  In  September  a  last 
attack  of  the  joint  force  gathered  against  Gibraltar  was  repulsed  by 
the  heroism  of  Elliott.  Nor  would  America  wait  any  longer  for  the 
satisfaction  of  her  allies.  In  November  her  commissioners  signed  the 
preliminaries  of  a  peace,  in  which  Britain  reserved  to  herself  on  the 
American  continent  only  Canada  and  the  island  of  Newfoundland,  and 
acknowledged  without  reserve  the  independence  of  the  United  States. 
The  treaty  of  peace  with  the  United  States  was  a  prelude  to  treaties 
of  peace  with  the  Bourbon  powers.  France  indeed  won  nothing  in 
the  treaties  with  which  the  war  ended  ;  Spain  gained  only  Florida  and 
Minorca.  England,  on  the  other  hand,  had  won  ground  in  India ; 
she  had  retained  Canada  ;  her  West  Indian  islands  were  intact ;  she 
had  asserted  her  command  of  the  seas.  But  at  the  close  of  the  war 
there  was  less  thought  of  what  she  had  retained  than  of  what  she 
had  lost.  The  American  Colonies  were  irrecoverably  gone.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  in  the  first  shock  of  such  a  loss  England  looked  on 
herself  as  on  the  verge  of  ruin,  or  that  the  Bourbon  Courts  believed 
her  position  as  a  world-power  to  be  practically  at  an  end.  How  utterly 
groundless  such  a  conception  was  the  coming  years  were  to  show 


jlemented  by 


Section  III.— The  Second  Pitt.    1783—1793. 

[Authoritits.—  Mr.  Massey's  account  of  this  period  may  be  suppl 
Lord  Stanhope's  "Life  of  Pitt,"  Lord  Russell  s  **  Memoirs  of  Fox,"  and  the 
Correspondence  of  Lord  Malmesbury,  Lord  Auckland,  and  Mr.  R<ise.  For 
the  Slave  Trade,  see  the  Memoirs  of  Wilberforce  by  his  sons.  Burke  may  be 
studied  in  his  Life  by  Macknight,  in  Mr.  Morley's  valuable  essay  on  him,  and 
above  all  in  his  own  works.  The  state  of  foreign  affairs  in  1789  b  best  seen 
in  Von  Sybel's  '*  History  of  the  French  Revolution."] 

That  in  the  creation  of  the  United  States  the  world  had  reached 
one  of  the  turning  points  in  its  history  seems  at  the  time  to  toavc 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


787 


entered  into  the  thought  of  not  a  single  European  statesman.  What 
startled  men  most  at  the  moment  was  the  discovery  that  England 
herself  was  far  from  being  ruined  by  the  greatness  of  her  defeat.  She 
rose  from  it  indeed  stronger  and  more  vigorous  than  ever.  Never 
had  she  shown  a  mightier  energy  than  in  the  struggle  against  France 
which  followed  only  ten  years  after  her  loss  of  America,  nor  did  she 
ever  stand  higher  among  the  nations  than  on  the  day  of  Waterloo. 
Her  real  greatness,  however,  lay  not  in  the  old  world  but  in  the  new. 
She  was  from  that  hour  a  mother  of  nations.  In  America  she  had 
begotten  a  great  people,  and  her  emigrant  ships  were  still  to  carry 
on  the  movement  of  the  Teutonic  race  from  which  she  herself  had 
sprung.  Her  work  was  to  be  colonization.  Her  settlers  were  to 
dispute  Africa  with  the  Kaffir  and  the  Hottentot ;  they  were  to  build 
up  in  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  colonies  as  great  as  those  which  she 
had  lost  in  America.  And  to  the  nations  that  she  founded  she  was 
to  give  not  only  her  blood  and  her  speech,  but  the  freedom  which 
she  had  won.  It  is  the  thought  of  this  which  flings  its  grandeur  round 
the  pettiest  details  of  our  story  in  the  past.  The  history  of  France  has 
little  result  beyond  France  itself.  German  or  Italian  histor)"  has  no 
direct  issue  outside  the  bounds  of  Germany  or  Italy.  But  England 
is  only  a  small  part  of  the  outcome  of  English  history.  Its  greater 
issues  lie  not  within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  mother  island,  but  in  the 
destinies  of  nations  yet  to  be.  The  struggles  of  her  patriots,  the 
wisdom  of  her  statesmen,  the  steady  love  of  liberty  and  law  in  her 
people  at  large,  were  shaping  in  the  past  of  our  little  island  the  future 
of  mankind. 

Meanwhile  the  rapid  developement  of  industrial  energy  and  industrial 
wealth  in  England  itself  was  telling  on  the  conditions  of  English 
statesmanship.  Though  the  Tories  and  "  King's  friends ''  had  now 
grown  to  a  compact  body  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  members,  the  Whigs, 
who  held  office  under  Lord  Rockingham,  were  superior  to  their  rivals 
in  numbers  and  political  character,  now  that  the  return  of  the  Bedford 
section  to  the  general  body  of  the  party  during  its  steady  opposition 
to  the  American  war  had  restored  much  of  its  old  cohesion.  But  this 
reunion  only  strengthened  their  aristocratic  and  exclusive  tendencies, 
and  widened  the  breach  which  was  steadily  opening  on  questions  such 
as  Parliamentary  Reform,  between  the  bulk  of  the  Whig  party  and  the 
small  fragment  which  remained  true  to  the  more  popular  sympathies  of 
Chatham.  Lord  Shelburne  stood  at  the  head  of  the  Chatham  party,  and 
it  was  reinforced  at  this  moment  by  the  entry  into  Parliament  of  the 
second  son  of  Chatham  himself.  William  Pitt  had  hardly  reached  his 
twenty-second  year  ;  but  he  left  college  with  the  learning  of  a  ripe 
scholar,  and  his  ready  and  sonorous  eloquence  had  been  matured  by  his 
father's  teaching.  "  He  will  be  one  of  the  first  men  in  Parliament," 
said  a  member  to  the  Whig  leader,  Charles  Fox,  after  Pitt's  first, 


7S8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


speech  in  the  House  of  Commons.  "  He  is  so  already,"  replied  Fox. 
The  haughty  self-esteem  of  the  new  statesman  breathed  in  every 
movement  of  his  tall,  spare  figure,  in  the  hard  lines  of  a  countenance 
which  none  but  his  closer  friends  saw  lighted  by  a  smile  in  his  cold 
and  repulsive  address,  his  invariable  gravity  of  demeanour,  and  his 
habitual  air  of  command.  How  great  the  qualities  were  which  lay 
beneath  this  haughty  exterior  no  one  knew  ;  nor  had  any  one  guessed 
how  soon  this  "  boy,"  as  his  rivals  mockingly  styled  him,  was  to  crush 
every  opponent  and  to  hold  England  at  his  will.  He  refused  any 
minor  post  in  the  Rockingham  Administration,  claiming,  if  he  took 
office  at  all,  to  be  at  once  admitted  to  the  Cabinet.  But  Pitt  had 
no  desire  to  take  office  under  Rockingham.  To  him  as  to  Chatham 
the  main  lesson  of  the  war  was  the  need  of  putting  an  end  to  those 
abuses  in  the  composition  of  Parliament  by  which  George  the  Third 
had  been  enabled  to  plunge  the  country  into  it.  A  thorough  reform 
of  the  House  of  Commons  was  the  only  effectual  means  of  doing 
this,  and  Pitt  brought  forward  a  bill  founded  on  his  father's  plans 
for  that  purpose.  But  the  great  bulk  of  the  Whigs  could  not  re- 
solve on  the  sacrifice  of  property  and  influence  which  such  a  reform 
would  involve.  Pitt's  bill  was  thrown  out ;  and  in  its  stead  the 
Ministry  endeavoured  to  weaken  the  means  of  corrupt  influence  which 
the  King  had  unscrupulously  used,  by  disqualifying  persons  holding 
government  contracts  from  sitting  in  Parliament,  by  depriving  revenue 
officers  of  the  elective  franchise  (a  measure  which  diminished  the 
influence  of  the  Crown  in  seventy  boroughs),  and  above  all  by  a 
bill  for  the  reduction  of  the  civil  establishment,  of  the  pension  list, 
and  of  the  secret  service  fund,  which  was  brought  in  by  Burke. 
These  measures  were  to  a  great  extent  effectual  in  diminishing  the 
influence  of  the  Crown  over  Parliament,  and  they  are  memorable  as 
marking  the  date  when  the  direct  bribery  of  members  absolutely 
ceased.  But  they  were  absolutely  inoperative  in  rendering  the  House 
of  Commons  really  representative  of  or  responsible  to  the  people  of 
England.  The  jealousy  which  the  mass  of  the  Whigs  entertained  of  the 
Chatham  section  and  its  plans  was  more  plainly  shown  on  the  death  of 
Lord  Rockingham  in  July.  Shelburne  was  no  sooner  called  to  the 
head  of  the  Ministry  than  Fox,  who  acted  on  personal  grounds,  and 
the  bulk  of  Rockingham's  followers  resigned.  Pitt  on  the  other  hand 
accepted  office  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer. 

The  Shelburne  Ministry  only  lasted  long  enough  to  conclude  the 
final  peace  with  the  United  States  ;  for  in  the  opening  of  1783  it  was 
overthrown  by  the  most  unscrupulous  coalition  known  in  our  history, 
that  of  the  Whig  followers  of  Fox  with  the  Tories  who  still  clung  to 
Lord  North.  Never  had  the  need  of  representative  reform  been  more 
clearly  shown  than  by  a  coalition  which  proved  how  powerless  was  the 
force  of  public  opinion  to  check  even  the  most  shameless  faction  in 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


789 


Parliament,  how  completely  the  lessening  of  the  royal  influence  by  the 
measures  of  Burke  and  Rockingham  had  tended  to  the  profit,  not  of 
the  people,  but  of  the  borough-mongers  who  usurped  its  representation. 
Pitt's  renewed  proposal  of  Parliamentary  Reform  was  rejected  by  a 
majority  of  two  to  one.  Secure  in  their  Parliamentary  majority,  and 
heedless  of  the  power  of  public  opinion  without  the  walls  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  the  new  Ministers  entered  boldly  on  a  greater  task  than  had  as 
yet  taxed  the  constructive  genius  of  English  statesmen.  To  leave  such  a 
dominion  as  Warren  Hastings  had  built  up  in  India  to  the  control  of  a 
mere  company  of  traders  was  clearly  impossible  ;  and  Fox  proposed  to 
transfer  the  political  government  from  the  Directors  of  the  Company 
to  a  board  of  seven  Commissioners.  The  appointment  of  the  seven 
was  vested  in  the  first  instance  in  Parliament,  and  afterwards  in 
the  Crown  ;  their  office  was  to  be  held  for  five  years,  but  they  were  re- 
moveable  on  address  from  either  House  of  Parliament.  The  proposal 
was  at  once  met  with  a  storm  of  opposition.  The  scheme  indeed  was 
an  injudicious  one  ;  for  the  new  Commissioners  would  have  been 
destitute  of  that  practical  knowledge  of  India  which  belonged  to  the 
Company,  while  the  want  of  any  immediate  link  between  them  and  the 
actual  Ministry  of  the  Crown  would  have  prevented  Parliament  from 
exercising  an  effective  control  over  their  acts.  But  the  real  faults  of 
this  India  Bill  were  hardly  noticed  in  the  popular  outcry  against  it. 
The  merchant-class  was  galled  by  the  blow  levelled  at  the  greatest 
merchant-body  in  the  realm  :  corporations  trembled  at  the  cancelling 
of  a  charter  ;  the  King  viewed  the  measure  as  a  mere  means  of  trans- 
ferring the  patronage  of  India  to  the  Whigs.  With  the  nation  at  large 
the  faults  of  the  bill  lay  in  the  character  of  the  Ministry  which  proposed 
it.  To  give  the  rule  and  patronage  of  India  over  to  the  exist- 
ing House  of  Commons  was  to  give  a  new  and  immense  power  to 
a  body  which  misused  in  the  grossest  way  the  power  it  possessed.  It 
was  the  sense  of  this  popular  feeling  which  encouraged  the  King 
to  exert  his  personal  influence  to  defeat  the  measure  in  the  Lords,  and 
on  its  defeat  to  order  his  Ministers  to  deliver  up  the  seals.  In  Decem- 
ber 1783  Pitt  accepted  the  post  of  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  ;  but  his 
position  would  at  once  have  been  untenable  had  the  country  gone  with 
its  nominal  representatives.  He  was  defeated  again  and  again  by 
large  majorities  in  the  Commons  ;  but  the  majorities  dwindled  as  a 
shower  of  addresses  from  every  quarter,  from  the  Tory  University  of 
Oxford  as  from  the  Whig  Corporation  of  London,  proved  that  public 
opinion  went  with  the  Minister  and  not  with  the  House.  It  was  the 
general  sense  of  this  which  justified  Pitt  in  the  firmness  with  which,  in 
the  teeth  of  addresses  for  his  removal  from  office,  he  delayed  the  dis- 
solution of  Parliament  for  five  months,  and  gained  time  for  that 
ripening  of  national  sentiment  on  which  he  counted  for  success. 
When  the  elections  of  1784  came  the  struggle  was  at  once  at  an  end. 


790 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF 


The  public  feeling  had  become  strong  enough  to  break  through  the 
corrupt  influences  which  commonly  governed  its  representation.  Every 
great  constituency  returned  supporters  to  Pitt  ;  of  the  majority  which 
had  defeated  him  in  the  Commons  a  hundred  and  sixty  members  were 
unseated  ;  and  only  a  fragment  of  the  Whig  party  was  saved  by  it? 
command  of  nomination  boroughs. 

When  ParHament  came  together  after  the  overthrow  of  the 
Coalition,  the  Minister  of  twenty-five  was  master  of  England  as 
no  Minister  had  been  before.  Even  the  King  yielded  to  his  sway, 
partly  through  gratitude  for  the  triumph  he  had  won  for  him  over 
the  Whigs,  partly  from  a  sense  of  the  madness  which  was  soon  to 
strike  him  down,  but  still  more  from  a  gradual  discovery  that  the 
triumph  which  he  had  won  over  his  political  rivals  had  been  won,  not 
to  the  profit  of  the  crown,  but  of  the  nation  at  large.  The  Whigs, 
it  was  true,  were  broken,  unpopular,  and  without  a  policy,  while  the 
Tories  clung  to  the  Minister  who  had  "  saved  the  King."  But  it 
was  the  support  of  a  new  political  power  that  really  gave  his  strength 
,to  the  young  Minister.  The  sudden  rise  of  English  industry  was 
pushing  the  manufacturer  to  the  front ;  and  all  that  the  trading  classes 
loved  in  Chatham,  his  nobleness  of  temper,  his  consciousness  of  power, 
his  patriotism,  his  sympathy  with  a  wider  world  than  the  world  within 
the  Parliament-house,  they  saw  in  his  son.  He  had  little  indeed  of 
the  poetic  and  imaginative  side  of  Chatham's  genius,  of  his  quick 
perception  of  what  was  just  and  what  was  possible,  his  far-reaching 
conceptions  of  national  policy,  his  outlook  into  the  future  of  the 
world.  Pitt's  flowing  and  sonorous  commonplaces  rang  hollow  beside 
the  broken  phrases  which  still  make  his  father's  eloquence  a  living 
thing  to  Englishmen.  On  the  other  hand  he  possessed  some  qualities 
in  which  Chatham  was  utterly  wanting.  His  temper,  though  naturally 
ardent  and  sensitive,  had  been  schooled  in  a  proud  self-command. 
His  simplicity  and  good  taste  freed  him  from  his  father's  ostentation 
and  extravagance.  Diffuse  and  commonplace  as  his  speeches  seem, 
they  were  adapted  as  much  by  their  very  qualities  of  diffuseness 
and  commonplace  as  by  their  lucidity  and  good  sense  to  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  middle  classes  whom  Pitt  felt  to  be  his  real  audience. 
In  his  love  of  peace,  his  immense  industry,  his  despatch  of  busi- 
ness, his  skill  in  debate,  his  knowledge  of  finance,  he  recalled  Sir 
Robert  Walpole  ;  but  he  had  virtues  which  Walpole  never  possessed, 
and  he  was  free  from  Walpole's  worst  defects.  He  was  careless  of 
personal  gain.  He  was  too  proud  to  rule  by  corruption.  His  lofty 
self-esteem  left  no  room  for  any  jealousy  of  subordinates.  He  was 
generous  in  his  appreciation  of  youthful  merits  ;  and  the  "  boys "  he 
gathered  round  him,  such  as  Canning  and  Lord  Wellesley,  rewarded 
his  generosity  by  a  devotion  which  death  left  untouched.  With 
Walpole's  cvnical   inaction   Pitt  had  no  sympathy  whatever.     Hi? 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


791 


policy  from  the  first  was  one  of  active  reform,  and  he  faced  every 
one  of  the  problems,  financial,  constitutional,  religious,  from  which 
Walpole  had  shrunk.  Above  all  he  had  none  of  Walpole's  scorn 
of  his  fellow-men.  The  noblest  feature  in  his  mind  was  its  wide 
humanity.  His  love  for  England  was  as  deep  and  personal  as  his 
father's  love,  but  of  the  sympathy  with  English  passion  and  English 
prejudice  which  had  been  at  once  his  father's  weakness  and  strength 
he  had  not  a  trace.  When  Fox  taunted  him  with  forgetting  Chatham's 
jealousy  of  France  and  his  faith  that  she  was  the  natural  foe  of  England, 
Pitt  answered  nobly  that  "to  suppose  any  nation  can  be  ungilterably 
the  enemy  of  another  is  weak  and  childish."  The  temper  of  the  time 
and  the  larger  sympathy  of  man  with  man,  which  especially  marks 
the  eighteenth  century  as  a  turning-point  in  the  history  of  the  human 
race,  was  everywhere  bringing  to  the  front  a  new  order  of  statesmen, 
such  as  Turgot  and  Joseph  the  Second,  whose  characteristics  were  a 
love  of  mankind,  and  a  belief  that  as  the  happiness  of  the  individual 
can  only  be  secured  by  the  general  happiness  of  the  community  to 
which  he  belongs,  so  the  welfare  of  individual  nations  can  only  be 
secured  by  the  general  welfare  of  the  world.  Of  these  Pitt  was  one. 
But  he  rose  high  above  the  rest  in  the  consummate  knowledge,  and 
the  practical  force  which  he  brought  to  the  realization  of  his  aims. 

Pitt's  strength  lay  in  finance  ;  and  he  came  forward  at  a  time  when 
the  growth  of  English  wealth  made  a  knowledge  of  finance  essential 
to  a  great  minister.  The  progress  of  the  nation  was  wonderful. 
Population  more  than  doubled  during  the  eighteenth  century,  and  the 
advance  of  wealth  was  even  greater  than  that  of  population.  The 
war  had  added  a  hundred  millions  to  the  national  debt,  but  the  burden 
was  hardly  felt.  The  loss  of  America  only  increased  the  commerce 
with  that  country  ;  and  industry  had  begun  that  great  career  which 
was  to  make  Britain  the  workshop  of  the  world.  Though  England 
already  stood  in  the  first  rank  of  commercial  states  at  the  accession  of 
George  the  Third,  her  industrial  life  at  home  was  mainly  agricultural. 
The  wool-trade  had  gradually  established  itself  in  Norfolk,  the  West 
Riding  of  Yorkshire,  and  the  counties  of  the  south-west  ;  while  the 
manufacture  of  cotton  was  still  almost  hmited  to  Manchester  and 
Bolton,  and  remained  so  unimportant  that  in  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century  the  export  of  cotton  goods  hardly  reached  the  value 
of  fifty  thousand  a  year.  There  was  the  same  slow  and  steady  progress 
in  the  linen  trade  of  Belfast  and  Dundee,  and  the  silks  of  Spitalfields. 
The  processes  of  manufacture  were  too  rude  to  allow  any  large  ir^crease 
of  production.  It  was  only  where  a  stream  gave  force  to  turn  a  mill- 
wheel  that  the  wool-worker  could  establish  his  factory  ;  and  cotton  was 
as  yet  spun  by  hand  in  the  cottages,  the  "  spinsters  "  of  the  family 
sitting  with  their  distaffs  round  the  weaver's  handloom.  But  had  the 
processes  of  manufacture  been  more  efficient,  they  would  have  been  ren- 


Roads  em 


79a 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[Ctt&T. 


dered  useless  by  the  want  of  a  cheap  and  easy  means  of  transport 
The  older  mnin  roads,  which  had  lasted  fairly  through  the  middle 
ages,  had  broken  down  in  later  times  before  the  growth  of  traffic 
and  the  increase  of  wagons  and  carriages.  The  new  lines  of  trade 
lay  often  along  mere  country  lanes  which  had  never  been  more  than 
horse-tracks.  Much  of  the  woollen  trade  therefore  had  to  be  carried 
on  by  means  of  long  trains  of  pack-horses  ;  and  in  the  case  of  yet 
heavier  goods,  such  as  coal,  distribution  was  almost  impracticable, 
save  along  the  greater  rivers  or  in  districts  accessible  from  the  sea, 
A  new  ^ra  began  when  the  engineering  genius  of  Brindley  joined 
Manchester  with  its  port  of  Liverpool  in  1767  by  a  canal  which 
crossed  the  Irwell  on  a  lofty  aqueduct ;  the  success  of  the  experiment 
soon  led  to  the  universal  introduction  of  water-carriage,  and  Great 
Britain  was  traversed  in  every  direction  by  three  thousand  miles 
of  navigable  canals.  At  the  same  time  a  new  importance  was 
given  to  the  coal  which  lay  beneath  the  soil  of  England.  The 
stores  of  iron  which  had  lain  side  by  side  with  it  in  the  northern 
counties  had  lain  there  unworked  through  the  scarcity  of  wood, 
which  was  looked  upon  as  the  only  fuel  by  which  it  could  be  smelted. 
In  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  a  process  for  smelting  iron 
with  coal  turned  out  to  be  effective  ;  and  the  whole  aspect  of  the 
iron-trade  was  at  once  revolutionized.  Iron  was  to  become  the 
working  material  of  the  modern  world  :  and  it  is  its  production  of 
iron  which  more  than  all  else  has  placed  England  at  the  head  of 
industrial  Europe.  The  value  of  coal  as  a  means  of  producing 
mechanical  force  was  revealed  in  the  discovery  by  which  Watt  in 
1765  transformed  the  Steam-Engine  fron  a  mere  toy  into  the  most 
wonderful  instrument  which  human  industry  has  ever  had  at  its 
command.  The  invention  came  at  a  moment  when  the  existing 
supply  of  manual  labour  could  no  longer  cope  with  the  demands  of 
the  manufacturers.  Three  successive  inventions  in  twelve  years,  that 
of  the  spinning-jenny  in  1764  by  the  weaver  Hargreaves,  of  the 
spinning-machine  in  1768  by  the  barber  Arkwright.  of  the  "  mule"  by 
the  weaver  Crompton  in  1776,  were  followed  by  the  discovery  of  the 
power-loom.  But  these  would  have  been  comparatively  useless  had  it 
not  been  for  the  revelation  of  a  new  and  inexhaustible  labour-force  in 
the  steam-engine.  It  was  the  combination  of  such  a  force  with  such 
means  of  applying  it  that  enabled  Britain  during  the  terrible  years  of 
her  struggle  with  France  and  Napoleon  to  all  but  monopolize  the 
woollen  and  cotton  trades,  and  raised  her  into  the  greatest  manufac- 
turing count.  V  that  the  world  had  seen. 

To  deal  wijcly  with  such  a  growth  required  a  knowledge  of  the 
laws  of  wealth  which  would  have  been  impossible  at  an  earlier  time. 
But  it  had  become  possible  in  the  days  of  Pitt.  If  books  are  to  be 
measured  by  the  effect  which  they  have  produced  on  the  fortunes  of 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


793 


mankind,  the  "Wealth  of  Nations"  must  rank  among  the  greatest 
of  books.  Its  author  was  Adam  Smith,  an  Oxford  scholar  and  a 
professor  at  Glasgow.  Labour,  he  contended,  was  the  one  source  of 
wealth,  and  it  was  by  freedom  of  labour,  by  suffering  the  worker  to 
pursue  his  own  interest  in  his  own  way,  that  the  public  wealth  would 
best  be  promoted.  Any  attempt  to  force  labour  into  artificial  channels, 
to  shape  by  laws  the  course  of  commerce,  to  promote  special  branches 
of  industry  in  particular  countries,  or  to  fix  the  character  of  the  in- 
tercourse between  one  country  and  another,  is  not  only  a  wrong  to  the 
worker  or  the  merchant,  but  actually  hurtful  to  the  wealth  of  a  state. 
The  book  was  published  in  1776,  at  the  opening  of  the  American 
war,  and  studied  by  Pitt  during  his  career  as  an  undergraduate  at 
Cambridge.  From  that  time  he  owned  Adam  Smith  for  his  master. 
He  had  hardly  become  Minister  before  he  took  the  principles  of 
the  "Wealth  of  Nations''  as  the  groundwork  of  his  policy.  The  ten 
earlier  years  of  his  rule  marked  a  new  point  of  departure  in  English 
statesmanship.  Pitt  was  the  first  English  Minister  who  really  grasped 
the  part  which  industry  was  to  play  in  promoting  the  welfare  of  the 
world.  He  was  not  only  a  peace  Minister  and  a  financier,  as  Walpole 
had  been,  but  a  statesman  who  saw  that  the  best  security  for  peace  lay 
in  the  freedom  and  widening  of  commercial  intercourse  between 
nations ;  that  public  economy  not  only  lessened  the  general  burdens 
but  left  additional  capital  in  the  hands  of  industry  ;  and  that  finance 
might  be  turned  from  a  mere  means  of  raising  revenue  into  a  powerful 
engine  of  political  and  social  improvement. 

That  little  was  done  by  Pitt  himself  to  carry  these  principles  into 
effect  was  partly  owing  to  the  mass  of  ignorance  and  prejudice  with 
which  he  had  to  contend,  and  still  more  to  the  sudden  break  of 
his  plans  through  the  French  Revolution.  His  power  rested  above  all 
on  the  trading  classes,  and  these  were  still  persuaded  that  wealth 
meant  gold  and  silver,  and  that  commerce  was  best  furthered  by 
jealous  monopolies.  It  was  only  by  patience  and  dexterity  that  the 
mob  of  merchants  and  country  squires  who  backed  him  in  the  House 
of  Commons  could  be  brought  to  acquiesce  in  the  changes  he  proposed. 
How  small  his  power  was  when  it  struggled  with  the  prejudices  around 
him  was  seen  in  *he  failure  of  the  first  great  measure  he  brought  for- 
ward. The  question  of  parliamentary  reform  which  had  been  mooted 
during  the  American  war  had  been  steadily  coming  to  the  front. 
Chatham  had  advocated  an  increase  of  county  members,  who  were 
then  the  most  independent  part  of  the  Lower  House.  The  Duke  of 
Richmond  talked  of  universal  suffrage,  equal  electoral  districts,  and 
annual  Parliaments.  Wilkes  anticipated  the  Reform  Bill  of  a  later 
time  by  proposing  to  disfranchise  the  rotten  boroughs,  and  to  give 
members  in  their  stead  to  the  counties  and  to  the  more  populous  and 
wealthv  towns.     William  Pitt  had  made  the  question  his  own  by 


794 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


bringing  forward  a  motion  for  reform  on  his  first  entry  into  the  House, 
and  one  of  his  first  measures  as  Minister  was  to  bring  in  a  bill  in  1785 
which,  while  providing  for  the  gradual  extinction  of  all  decayed 
boroughs,  disfranchised  thirty-six  at  once,  and  transferred  their  mem- 
bers to  counties.  He  brought  the  King  to  abstain  from  opposition,  and 
strove  to  buy  off  the  borough-mongers,  as  the  holders  of  rotten 
boroughs  were  called,  by  offering  to  compensate  them  for  the  seats 
they  lost  at  their  market  value.  But  the  bulk  of  his  own  party  joined 
the  bulk  of  the  Whigs  in  a  steady  resistance  to  the  bill.  The  more 
glaring  abuses,  indeed,  within  Parliament  itself,  the  abuses  which  stirred 
Chatham  and  Wilkes  to  action,  had  in  great  part  disappeared.  The 
bribery  of  members  had  ceased.  Burke's  Bill  of  Economical  Reform 
had  just  dealt  a  fatal  blow  at  the  influence  which  the  King  exercised 
by  suppressing  a  host  of  useless  offices,  household  appointments, 
judicial  and  diplomatic  charges,  which  were  maintained  for  the 
purposes  of  corruption.  Above  all,  the  recent  triumph  of  public 
opinion  to  which  Pitt  owed  his  power  had  done  much  to  diminish 
the  sense  of  any  real  danger  from  the  opposition  which  Parliament 
had  shown  till  now  to  the  voice  of  the  nation.  "  Terribly  disappointed 
and  beat"  as  Wilberforce  tells  us  Pitt  was  by  the  rejection  of  his 
measure,  the  temper  of  the  House  and  of  the  people  was  too  plain 
to  be  mistaken,  and  though  his  opinion  remained  unaltered,  he  never 
brought  it  forward  again. 

The  failure  of  his  constitutional  reform  was  more  than  compensated 
by  the  triumphs  of  his  finance.  When  he  entered  office  public  credit 
was  at  its  lowest  ebb.  The  debt  had  been  doubled  by  the  American 
war,  yet  large  sums  still  remained  unfunded,  while  the  revenue  was 
reduced  by  a  vast  system  of  smuggling  which  turned  every  coast- 
town  into  a  nest  of  robbers.  The  deficiency  was  met  for  the  moment 
by  new  taxes,  but  the  time  which  was  thus  gained  served  to  change 
the  whole  face  of  public  affairs.  The  first  of  Pitt's  financial  measures 
— his  plan  for  gradually  paying  off  the  debt  by  a  sinking  fund — was 
undoubtedly  an  error  ;  but  it  had  a  happy  effect  in  restoring  public 
confidence.  He  met  the  smuggler  by  a  reduction  of  Custom-duties 
which  made  his  trade  unprofitable.  He  revived  Walpole's  plan  of  an 
Excise.  Meanwhile  the  public  expenses  were  reduced,  and  commission 
after  commission  was  appointed  to  introduce  economy  into  every 
department  of  the  public  service.  The  rapid  developement  of  the 
national  industry  which  we  have  already  noted  no  doubt  aided  the 
success  of  these  measures.  Credit  was  restored.  The  smuggling 
trade  was  greatly  reduced.  In  two  years  there  was  a  surplus  of  a 
million,  and  though  duty  after  duty  was  removed  the  revenue  rose 
steadily  with  every  remission  of  taxation.  Meanwhile  Pitt  was  showing 
the  political  value  of  the  new  finance  in  a  wider  field.  Ireland,  then 
as  now,  was  £ne;land's  difficulty.    The  tyrannous  misgovemment  under 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


795 


which  she  had  groaned  ever  since  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  was  pro- 
ducing its  natural  fruit  ;  the  miserable  land  was  torn  with  political 
faction,  religious  feuds  and  peasant  conspiracies ;  and  so  threatening 
had  the  attitude  of  the  Protestant  party  which  ruled  it  become  during 
the  American  war  that  they  had  forced  the  English  Parliament  to 
relinquish  its  control  over  their  Parliament  in  Dublin.  Pitt  saw  that 
much  at  least  of  the  misery  and  disloyalty  of  Ireland  sprang  from  its 
poverty.  The  population  had  grown  rapidly  while  culture  remained 
stationary  and  commerce  perished.  And  of  this  poverty  much  was 
the  direct  result  of  unjust  law.  Ireland  was  a  grazing  country,  but  to 
protect  the  interest  of  English  graziers  the  import  of  its  cattle  into 
England  was  forbidden.  To  protect  the  interests  of  English  clothiers 
and  weavers,  its  manufactures  were  loaded  with  duties.  To  redress 
this  wrong  was  the  first  financial  effort  of  Pitt,  and  the  bill  which  he 
introduced  in  1785  did  away  with  every  obstacle  to  freedom  of  trade 
between  England  and  Ireland.  It  was  a  measure  which,  as  he  held, 
would  "  draw  what  remained  of  the  shattered  empire  together,"  and 
repair  in  part  the  loss  of  America  by  creating  a  loyal  and  prosperous 
^reland ;  and  struggling  almost  alone  in  face  of  a  fierce  opposition 
from  the  Whigs  and  the  Manchester  merchants,  he  dragged  it  through 
the  English  Parliament,  only  to  see  amendments  forced  into  it  which 
ensured  its  rejection  by  the  Irish  Parliament.  But  the  defeat  only 
spurred  him  to  a  greater  effort  elsewhere.  France  had  been  looked 
upon  as  England's  natural  enemy  ;  but  in  1787  he  concluded  a 
Treaty  of  Commerce  with  France  which  enabled  the  subjects  of  both 
countries  to  reside  and  travel  in  either  without  license  or  passport,  did 
away  with  all  prohibition  of  trade  on  either  side,  and  reduced  every 
import  duty. 

India  owes  to  Pitt's  triumph  a  form  of  government  which  remained 
unchanged  to  our  own  day.  The  India  Bill  which  he  carried  in  1784 
preserved  in  appearance  the  political  and  commercial  powers  of  the 
Directors,  while  establishing  a  Board  of  Control,  formed  from  members 
of  the  Privy  Council,  for  the  approval  or  annulling  of  their  acts. 
Practically,  however,  the  powers  of  the  Board  of  Directors  were  ab- 
sorbed by  a  secret  committee  of  three  elected  members  of  that  body,  to 
whom  all  the  more  important  administrative  functions  had  been  reserved 
by  the  bill,  while  those  of  the  Board  of  Control  were  virtually  exer- 
cised by  its  President.  As  the  President  was  in  effect  a  new  Secretary 
of  State  for  the  Indian  Department,  and  became  an  important  member 
of  each  Ministry,  responsible  like  his  fellow-members  for  his  action  to 
Parliament,  the  administration  of  India  was  thus  made  a  part  of  the 
general  system  of  the  English  Government ;  while  the  secret  committee 
supplied  the  experience  of  Indian  affairs  in  which  the  Minister  might 
be  deficient.  Meanwhile  the  new  temper  that  was  growing  up  in  the 
English  people  told  on  the  attitude  of  England  towards  its  great  depend- 


796 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


ency.  Discussions  over  rival  plans  of  Indian  administration  diffused  a 
sense  of  national  responsibility  for  its  good  government,  and  there  was  a 
general  resolve  that  the  security  against  injustice  and  misrule  which 
was  enjoyed  by  the  poorest  Englishman  should  be  enjoyed  by  the 
poorest  Hindoo.  This  resolve  expressed  itself  in  the  trial  of  Warren 
Hastings.  Hastings  returned  from  India  at  the  close  of  the  war  with 
the  hope  of  rewards  as  great  as  those  of  Clive.  He  had  saved  all 
that  Clive  had  won.  He  had  laid  the  foundation  of  a  vast  empire 
in  the  East.  He  had  shown  rare  powers  of  administration,  and  the 
foresight,  courage,  and  temperance  which  mark  the  born  ruler  of  men. 
But  the  wisdom  and  glory  of  his  rule  could  not  hide  its  terrible  ruth- 
lessness.  He  was  charged  with  having  sold  for  a  vast  sum  the  services 
of  British  troops  to  crush  the  free  tribes  of  the  Rohillas,  with  having 
wrung  half  a  million  by  extortion  from  the  Rajah  of  Benares,  with 
having  extorted  by  torture  and  starvation  more  than  a  million  from 
the  Princesses  of  Oudh.  He  was  accused  of  having  kept  his  hold  upon 
power  by  measures  as  unscrupulous,  and  with  having  murdered  a 
native  who  opposed  him  by  an  abuse  of  the  forms  of  English  law.  On 
almost  all  these  charges  the  cooler  judgement  of  later  enquirers  has 
acquitted  Warren  Hastings  of  guilt.  Personally  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  he  had  done  much  to  secure  to  the  new  subjects  of  Britain 
a  just  and  peaceable  government.  What  was  hardest  and  most  pitiless 
in  his  rule  had  been  simply  a  carrying  out  of  the  system  of  admmistra- 
tion  which  was  native  to  India  and  which  he  found  existing  there. 
But  such  a  system  v/as  alien  from  the  new  humanity  of  Englishmen  ; 
and  few  dared  to  vindicate  Hastings  when  Burke  in  words  of  passion- 
ate earnestness  moved  for  his  impeachment.  The  great  trial  lingered 
on  for  years,  and  in  the  long  run  Hastings  secured  an  acquittal.  But 
the  end  at  which  the  impeachment  aimed  had  really  been  won.  The 
attention,  the  sympathy  of  Englishmen  had  been  drawn  across  distant 
seas  to  a  race  utterly  strange  to  them  ;  and  the  peasant  of  Cornwall 
or  Cumberland  had  learned  how  to  thrill  at  the  suffering  of  a  peasant 
of  Bengal. 

Even  while  the  trial  was  going  on  a  yet  wider  extension  of  English 
sympathy  made  itself  felt.  In  the  year  which  followed  the  adop- 
tion of  free  trade  with  France  the  new  philanthropy  allied  itself  with 
the  religious  movement  created  by  the  Wesleys  in  an  attack  on 
the  Slave  Trade.  One  of  the  profits  which  England  bought  by  the 
triumphs  of  Marlborough  was  a  right  to  a  monopoly  of  the  slave  trade 
between  Africa  and  the  Spanish  dominions  ;  and  it  was  England  that 
had  planted  slavery  in  her  American  colonies  and  her  West  Indian 
islands.  But  the  horrors  and  iniquity  of  the  trade,  the  ruin  and  degra- 
dation of  Africa  which  it  brought  about,  the  oppression  of  the  negro 
himself,  were  now  felt  widely  and  deeply.  "After  a  conversation  in 
the  open  air  at  the  root  of  an  old  tree,  just  above  the  steep  descent 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


797 


into  the  Vale  of  Keston,"  with  the  younger  Pitt,  his  friend,  William 
Wilberforce,  whose  position  as  a  representative  of  the  evangelical 
party  gave  weight  to  his  advocacy  of  such  a  cause,  resolved  in  1788 
to  bring  in  a  bill  for  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade.  But  the  bill 
fell  before  the  opposition  of  the  Liverpool  slave  merchants  and  the 
general  indifference  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  spirit  of  humanity 
which  breathed  through  Pitt's  policy  had  indeed  to  wrestle  with  diffi- 
culties at  home  and  abroad  ;  and  his  efforts  to  sap  the  enmity  of 
nation  against  nation  by  a  freer  intercourse  encountered  a  foe  even 
more  fatal  than  Engli:,h  prejudice,  in  the  very  movement  of  which 
his  measures  formed  a  part.  Across  the  Channel  this  movement  was 
growing  into  a  revolution  which  was  to  change  the  face  of  the  world. 

So  far  as  England  was  concerned  the  Puritan  resistance  of  the 
seventeenth  century  had  in  the  end  succeeded  in  checking  the  general 
tendency  of  the  time  to  religious  and  political  despotism.  Since  the 
Revolution  of  1688  freedom  of  conscience  and  the  people's  right  to 
govern  itself  through  its  representatives  in  Parliament  had  been  practi- 
cally established.  Social  equality  had  begun  long  before.  Every  man 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  was  subject  to,  and  protected  by,  the 
same  law.  The  English  aristocracy,  though  exercising  a  powerful 
influence  on  government,  were  possessed  of  few  social  privileges,  and 
prevented  from  forming  a  separate  class  in  the  nation  by  the  legal  and 
social  tradition  which  counted  all  save  the  eldest  son  of  a  noble  house  as 
commoners.  No  impassable  line  parted  the  gentry  from  the  commercial 
classes,  and  these  again  possessed  no  privileges  which  could  part  them 
from  the  lower  classes  of  the  community.  Public  opinion,  the  general 
sense  of  educated  Englishmen,  had  established  itself  after  a  short 
struggle  as  the  dominant  element  in  English  government.  But  in  all  the 
other  great  states  of  Europe  the  wars  of  religion  had  left  only  the  name 
of  freedom.  Government  tended  to  a  pure  despotism.  Privilege  was 
supreme  in  religion,  in  politics,  in  society.  Society  itself  rested  on  a 
rigid  division  of  classes  from  one  another,  which  refused  to  the  people 
at  large  any  equal  rights  of  justice  or  of  industry.  We  have  already 
seen  how  alien  such  a  conception  of  national  life  was  from  the  ideas 
which  the  wide  diffusion  of  intelligence  during  the  eighteenth  century 
was  spreading  throughout  Europe  ;  and  in  almost  every  country  some 
enlightened  rulers  endeavoured  by  administrative  reforms  in  some  sort 
to  satisfy  the  sense  of  wrong  which  was  felt  around  them.  The  attempts 
of  sovereigns  like  Frederick  the  Great  in  Prussia,  and  Joseph  the  Second 
in  Austria  and  the  Netherlands,  were  rivalled  by  the  efforts  of  statesmen 
such  as  Turgot  in  France.  It  was  in  France  indeed  that  the  contrast 
between  the  actual  state  of  society  and  the  new  ideas  of  public  right 
was  felt  most  keenly.  N  owhere  had  the  victory  of  the  Crown  been 
more  complete.  The  aristocracy  had  been  robbed  ot  all  share  in 
public  affairs  ;  it  enjoyed  social  privileges  and  exemption  from  any 


798 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP 


contribution  to  the  public  burdens,  without  that  sense  of  pubHc  duty 
which  a  governing  class  to  some  degree  always  possesses.  Guilds  and 
monopolies  fettered  the  industry  of  the  trader  and  the  merchant,  and 
cut  them  off  from  the  working  classes,  as  the  value  attached  to  noble 
blood  cut  off  both  from  the  aristocracy. 

If  its  political  position  indeed  were  compared  with  that  of  most 
of  the  countries  round  it,  France  stood  high.  Its  government  was  less 
oppressive,  its  general  wealth  was  larger  and  more  evenly  diffused, 
there  was  a  better  administration  of  justice,  and  greater  security  for 
public  order.  Poor  as  its  peasantry  seemed  to  English  eyes,  they  were 
far  above  the  peasants  of  Germany  or  Spain.  Its  middle  class  was  the 
quickest  and  most  intelligent  in  Europe.  Under  Lewis  the  Fifteenth 
opinion  was  practically  free  ;  and  a  literary  class  had  sprung  up  which 
devoted  itself  with  wonderful  brilliancy  and  activity  to  popularizing  the 
ideas  of  social  and  political  justice  which  it  learned  from  English 
writers,  and  in  the  case  of  Montesquieu  and  Voltaire  from  personal 
contact  with  English  life.  The  moral  conceptions  of  the  time,  its  love 
of  mankind,  its  sense  of  human  brotherhood,  its  hatred  of  oppression, 
its  pity  for  the  guilty  and  the  poor,  its  longing  after  a  higher  and  nobler 
standard  of  life  and  action,  were  expressed  by  a  crowd  of  writers,  and 
above  all  by  Rousseau,  with  a  fire  and  eloquence  which  carried  them 
to  the  heart  of  the  people.  But  this  new  force  of  intelligence  only 
jostled  roughly  with  the  social  forms  with  which  it  found  itself  in 
contact.  The  philosopher  denounced  the  tyranny  of  the  priesthood. 
The  peasant  grumbled  at  the  lord's  right  to  judge  him  in  his  courts  and 
to  exact  feudal  services  from  him.  The  merchant  was  galled  by  the 
trading  restrictions  and  the  heavy  taxation.  The  country  gentry  rebelled 
against  their  exclusion  from  public  life  and  from  the  government  of  the 
country.  Its  powerlessness  to  bring  about  any  change  at  home  turned 
all  this  new  energy  into  sympathy  with  a  struggle  against  tyranny 
abroad.  Public  opinion  forced  France  to  ally  itself  with  America  in 
its  contest  for  liberty,  and  French  volunteers  under  the  Marquis  de 
Lafayette  joined  Washington's  army.  But  while  the  American  war 
spread  more  widely  throughout  the  nation  the  ^craving  for  freedom, 
it  brought  on  the  Government  financial  embarrassment  from  which  it 
could  only  free  itself  by  an  appeal  to  the  country  at  large.  Lewis 
the  Sixteenth  resolved  to  summon  the  States-General,  which  had  not 
met  since  the  time  of  Richelieu,  and  to  appeal  to  the  nobles  to  waive 
their  immunity  from  taxation.  His  resolve  at  once  stirred  into 
vigorous  life  every  impulse  and  desire  which  had  been  seething  in 
the  minds  of  the  people  ;  and  the  States-General  no  sooner  met  at 
Versailles  in  May  1789  than  the  fabric  of  depotism  and  privilege 
began  to  crumble.  A  rising  in  Paris  destroyed  the  Bastille,  and  the 
capture  of  this  fortress  was  taken  for  the  sign  of  a  new  aera  of  constitu- 
tional freedom  in  France  and  through  Europe.    Even  in  England  men 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


799 


thrilled  with  a  strange  joy  at  the  tidings  of  its  fall.  "  How  much  is 
this  the  greatest  event  that  ever  happened  in  the  world,"  Fox  cried 
with  a  burst  of  enthusiasm,  "  and  how  much  the  best !  " 

Pitt  regarded  the  approach  of  France  to  sentiments  of  liberty  which 
had  long  been  familiar  to  England  with  greater  coolness,  but  with  no 
distrust.  For  the  moment  indeed  his  attention  was  distracted  by  an 
attack  of  madness  which  visited  the  King  in  1788,  and  by  the  claim  of 
a  right  to  the  Regency  which  was  at  once  advanced  by  the  Prince  of 
Wales.  The  Prince  belonged  to  the  Whig  party  ;  and  Fox,  who  was 
travelling  in  Italy,  hurried  home  to  support  his  claim,  in  full  belief  that 
the  Prince's  Regency  would  be  followed  by  his  own  return  to  power. 
Pitt  successfully  resisted  it  on  the  constitutional  ground  thai  in  such  a 
case  the  right  to  choose  a  temporary  regent,  under  what  limitations  it 
would,  lay  with  Parliament ;  and  a  bill  which  conferred  the  Regency 
on  the  Prince,  in  accordance  with  this  view,  was  already  passing  the 
Houses  when  the  recovery  of  the  King  put  an  end  to  the  long  dispute. 
Foreign  difficulties,  too,  absorbed  Pitt's  attention.  Russia  had  risen 
into  greatness  under  Catharine  the  Second ;  and  Catharine  had  re- 
solved from  the  first  on  the  annexation  of  Poland,  the  expulsion  of  the 
Turks  from  Europe,  and  the  setting  up  of  a  Russian  throne  at  Con- 
stantinople. In  her  first  aim  she  was  baffled  for  the  moment  by 
Frederick  the  Great.  She  had  already  made  herself  virtually  mistress 
of  the  whole  of  Poland,  her  armies  occupied  the  kingdom,  and  she  had 
seated  a  nominee  of  her  own  on  its  throne,  when  Frederick  in  union 
with  the  Emperor  Joseph  the  Second  forced  her  to  admit  Germany 
to  a  share  of  the  spoil.  If  the  Polish  partition  of  1 773  brought  the 
Russian  frontier  westward  to  the  upper  waters  of  the  Dwina  and 
the  Dnieper,  it  gave  Gelicia  to  Maria  Theresa,  and  West  Prussia  to 
Frederick  himself  Foiled  in  her  first  aim,  she  waited  for  the  realiza- 
tion of  her  second  till  the  alliance  between  the  two  German  powers 
was  at  an  end  through  the  resistance  of  Prussia  to  Joseph's  schemes 
for  the  annexation  of  Bavaria,  and  till  the  death  of  Frederick  removed 
her  most  watchful  foe.  Then  in  1788  Joseph  and  the  Empress  joined 
hands  for  a  partition  of  the  Turkish  Empire.  But  Prussia  was  still 
watchful,  and  England  was  no  longer  fettered  as  in  1773  by  troubles 
with  America.  The  friendship  estabhshed  by  Chatham  between  the 
two  countries,  which  had  been  suspended  by  Bute's  treachery  and  all 
but  destroyed  during  the  Northern  League  of  Neutral  Powers,  had 
been  restored  by  Pitt  through  his  co-operation  with  Frederick's  suc- 
cessor in  the  restoration  of  the  Dutch  Statholderate.  Its  political 
weight  was  now  seen  in  an  alliance  of  England,  Prussia,  and  Holland 
in  1789  for  the  preservation  of  the  Turkish  Empire.  A  great  European 
struggle  seemed  at  hand  ;  and  in  such  a  struggle  the  sympathy  and  aid 
of  France  was  of  the  highest  importance.  But  with  the  treaty  the 
danger  passed  away.     In  the  spring  of  1790  Joseph   died   broken- 


8oo 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


hearted  at  the  failure  of  his  plans  and  the  revolt  of  the  Netherlands 
against  his  innovations  ;  and  Austria  practically  withdrew  from  the 
war  with  the  Turks. 

Meanwhile  in  France  things  moved  fast.  By  breaking  down  the 
division  between  its  separate  orders  the  States-General  became  a 
National  Assembly,  which  abolished  the  privileges  of  the  provincial 
parliaments,  of  the  nobles,  and  the  Church.  In  October  the  mob  of 
Paris  marched  on  Versailles  and  forced  the  King  to  return  with  them 
to  the  capital  ;  and  a  Constitution  hastily  put  together  was  accepted 
by  Lewis  the  Sixteenth  in  the  stead  of  his  old  despotic  power.  To 
Pitt  the  tumult  and  disorder  with  which  these  great  changes  were 
wrought  seemed  transient  matters.  In  January  1790  he  still  believed 
that  "  the  present  convulsions  in  France  must  sooner  or  later  culmin- 
ate in  general  harmony  and  regular  order,"  and  that  when  her  own 
freedom  was  established,  "  France  would  stand  forth  as  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  powers  of  Europe."  But  the  coolness  and  good- will 
with  which  Pitt  looked  on  the  Revolution  was  far  from  being  universal 
in  the  nation  at  large.  The  cautious  good  sense  of  the  bulk  of 
Englishmen,  their  love  of  order  and  law,  their  distaste  for  violent 
changes  and  for  abstract  theories,  as  well  as  their  reverence  for  the 
past,  were  fast  rousing  throughout  the  country  a  dislike  of  the 
revolutionary  changes  which  were  hurrying  on  across  the  Channel ; 
and  both  the  political  sense  and  the  political  prejudice  of  the  nation 
were  being  fired  by  the  warnings  of  Edmund  Burke.  The  fall  of  the 
Bastille,  though  it  kindled  enthusiasm  in  Fox,  roused  in  Burke  only  dis- 
trust. "  Whenever  a  separation  is  made  between  liberty  and  justice," 
he  wrote  a  few  weeks  later,  "  neither  is  safe."  The  night  of  the  fourth 
of  August,  when  the  privileges  of  every  class  were  abolished,  filled  him 
with  horror.  He  saw,  and  rightly  saw,  in  it  the  critical  moment  which 
revealed  the  character  of  the  Revolution,  and  his  part  was  taken  at 
once.  "  The  French,"  he  cried  in  January,  while  Pitt  was  foretellmg 
a  glorious  future  for  the  new  Constitution,  "  the  French  have  shown 
themselves  the  ablest  architects  of  ruin  who  have  hitherto  existed  in 
the  world.  In  a  short  space  of  time  they  have  pulled  to  the  ground 
their  army,  their  navy,  their  commerce,  their  arts  and  their  manufac- 
tures." But  in  Parliament  Burke  stood  alone.  The*  Whigs,  though 
distrustfully,  followed  Fox  in  his  applause  of  the  Revolution.  The 
Tories,  yet  more  distrustfully,  followed  Pitt ;  and  Pitt  warmly  expressed 
his  sympathy  with  the  constitutional  government  which  was  ruling 
France.  At  this  moment  indeed  the  revolutionary  party  gave  a  signal 
proof  of  its  friendship  for  England.  Irritated  by  an  English  settlement 
at  Nootka  Sound  in  California,  Spain  appealed  to  France  for  aid  in 
accordance  with  the  Family  Compact :  and  the  French  Ministry,  with 
a  party  at  its  back  which  believed  things  had  gone  far  enough,  resolved 
on  a  war  as  the  best  means  of  checking  the  progress  of  the  Revolution 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


8of 


and  restoring  the  power  of  the  Crown.  The  revolutionary  party 
naturally  opposed  this  design  ;  after  a  bitter  struggle  the  right  of 
declaring  war,  save  with  the  sanction  of  the  Assembly,  was  taken  from 
the  King  ;  and  all  danger  of  hostilities  passed  away.  "  The  French 
Government,"  Pitt  asserted,  "  was  bent  on  cultivating  the  most  un- 
bounded friendship  for  Great  Britain,"  and  he  saw  no  reason  in  its 
revolutionary  changes  why  Britain  should  not  return  the  friendship  of 
France.  He  was  convinced  that  nothing  but  the  joint  action  of  France  and 
England  would  in  the  end  arrest  the  troubles  of  Eastern  Europe.  His 
intervention  foiled  for  the  moment  a  fresh  effort  of  Prussia  to  rob  Poland 
of  Dantzig  and  Thorn.  But  though  Russia  was  still  pressing  Turkey 
hard,  a  Russian  war  was  so  unpopular  in  England  that  a  hostile  vote 
in  Parliament  forced  Pitt  to  discontinue  his  armaments  ;  and  a  fresh 
union  of  Austria  and  Prussia,  which  promised  at  this  juncture  to  bring 
about  a  close  of  the  Turkish  struggle,  promised  also  a  fresh  attack  on 
the  independence  of  Poland. 

But  while  Pitt  was  pleading  for  friendship  between  the  two  countries, 
Burke  was  resolved  to  make  friendship  impossible.  He  had  long  ceased, 
indeed,  to  have  any  hold  over  the  House  of  Commons.  The  eloquence 
which  had  vied  with  that  of  Chatham  during  the  discussions  on  the 
Stamp  Act  had  become  distasteful  to  the  bulk  of  its  members.  The 
length  of  his  speeches,  the  profound  and  philosophical  character  of  his 
argument,  the  splendour  and  often  the  extravagance  of  his  illustrations, 
his  passionate  earnestness,  his  want  of  temper  and  discretion,  m  earied 
and  perplexed  the  squires  and  merchants  about  him.  He  was  known 
at  last  as  "  the  dinner-bell  of  the  House,"  so  rapidly  did  its  benches 
thin  at  his  rising.  For  a  time  his  energies  found  scope  in  the  im- 
peachment of  Hastings  ;  and  the  grandeur  of  his  appeals  to  the  justice 
of  England  hushed  detraction.  But  with  the  close  of  the  impeachment 
his  repute  had  again  fallen  ;  and  the  approach  of  old  age,  for  he  was 
now  past  sixty,  seemed  to  counsel  retirement  from  an  assembly  where 
he  stood  unpopular  and  alone.  But  age  and  disappointment  and 
loneliness  were  all  forgotten  as  Burke  saw  rising  across  ihe  Channel 
the  embodiment  of  all  that  he  hated — a  Revolution  founded  on  scorn 
of  the  past,  and  threatening  with  ruin  the  whole  social  fabric  which 
the  past  had  reared  ;  the  ordered  structure  of  classes  and  ranks 
crumbling  before  a  doctrine  of  social  equality  ;  a  State  rudely  de- 
molished and  reconstituted  ;  a  Church  and  a  Nobihty  swept  away  in 
a  night.  Against  the  enthusiasm  of  what  he  rightly  saw  to  be  a  new 
political  religion  he  resolved  to  rouse  the  enthusiasm  of  the  old.  He 
was  at  once  a  great  orator  and  a  great  writer  ;  and  now  that  the 
House  was  deaf  to  his  voice,  he  appealed  to  the  countrj'  by  his  pen. 
The  "  Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution  "  which  he  pubhshed  in 
October  1790  not  only  denounced  the  acts  of  rashness  and  violence 
which  sullied  the  great  change  that  France  had  wrought,  but  the  very 

2  D 


8oz 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


principles  from  which  the  change  had  sprung.  Burke's  deep  sense  of 
the  need  of  social  order,  of  the  value  of  that  continuity  in  human 
affairs  "without  which  men  would  become  like  flies  in  a  summer," 
blinded  him  to  all  but  the  faith  in  mere  rebellion,  and  the  yet  sillier 
faith  in  mere  novelty,  which  disguised  a  real  nobleness  of  aim  and 
temper  even  in  the  most  ardent  of  the  revolutionists.  He  would  see 
no  abuses  in  the  past,  now  that  it  had  fallen,  or  anything  but  the  ruin 
of  society  in  the  future.  He  preached  a  crusade  against  men  whom 
he  regarded  as  the  foes  of  religion  and  civilization,  and  called  on  the 
armies  of  Europe  to  put  down  a  Revolution  whose  principles  threatened 
every  state  with  destruction. 

The  great  obstacle  to  such  a  crusade  was  Pitt :  and  one  of  the 
grandest  outbursts  of  the  "  Reflections  "  closed  with  a  bitter  taunt  at 
the  Minister's  policy.  "  The  age  of  chivalry,"  Burke  cried,  "  is  gone  ; 
that  of  sophisters,  economists,  and  calculators  has  succeeded,  and  the 
glory  of  Europe  is  extinguished  for  ever."  But  neither  taunt  nor  in- 
vective moved  Pitt  from  his  course.  At  the  moment  when  the  "  Reflec- 
tions "  appeared  he  gave  a  fresh  assurance  to  France  of  his  resolve  to 
have  nothing  to  do  with  any  crusade  against  the  Revolution.  "  This 
country,"  he  wrote,  "means  to  persevere  in  the  neutrality  hitherto 
scrupulously  observed  with  respect  to  the  internal  dissensions  of  France ; 
and  from  which  it  will  never  depart  unless  the  conduct  held  there 
makes  it  indispensable  as  an  act  of  self-defence."  So  far  indeed 
was  he  from  sharing  the  reactionary  panic  which  was  spreading  around 
him  that  he  chose  this  time  for  supporting  Fox  in  his  Libel  .Act,  a 
measure  which,  by  transferring  the  decision  on  what  was  libellous  in 
any  publication  from  the  judge  to  the  jury,  completed  the  freedom  of 
the  press  ;  and  himself  passed  a  Bill  which,  though  little  noticed 
among  the  storms  of  the  time,  was  one  of  the  noblest  of  his  achieve- 
ments. He  boldly  put  aside  the  dread  which  had  been  roused  by  the 
American  war,  that  the  gift  of  self-government  to  our  colonies  would 
serve  only  as  a  step  towards  their  secession  from  the  mother-country, 
and  established  a  House  of  Assembly  and  a  Council  in  the  two 
Canadas.  "  I  am  convinced,"  said  Fox  (who,  however,  differed  from 
Pitt  as  to  the  nature  of  the  Constitution  to  be  given  to  Canada),  "  that 
the  only  method  of  retaining  distant  colonies  with  advantage  is  to  en- 
able them  to  govern  themselves  ;  "  and  the  policy  of  the  one  statesman 
and  the  foresight  of  the  other  have  been  justified  by  the  later  history  of 
our  dependencies.  Nor  had  Burke  better  success  with  his  own  party. 
Fox  remained  an  ardent  lover  of  the  Revolution,  and  answered  a  fresh 
attack  of  Burke  upon  it  with  more  than  usual  warmth.  A  close  affec- 
tion had  bound  till  now  the  two  men  together  ;  but  the  fanaticism  ol 
Burke  declared  it  at  an  end.  "  There  is  no  loss  of  friendship,"  Fox 
exclaimed,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  tears.  "  There  is  ! "  Burke  repeated. 
"  I  know  the  price  of  my  conduct.      Our  friendship  is  at  an  end." 


X.3 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


803 


Within  the  walls  of  Parliament,  Burke  stood  utterly  alone.  His 
'^Appeal  from  the  New  to  the  Old  Whigs,"  in  June  1 791,  failed  to 
detach  a  follower  from  Fox.  Pitt  coldly  counselled  him  rather  to 
praise  the  English  Constitution  than  to  rail  at  the  French.  '•  I  have 
made  many  enemies  and  few  friends,"  Burke  wrote  sadly  to  the  French 
princes  who  had  fled  from  their  country  and  were  gathering  in  arms 
at  Coblentz,  "by  the  part  I  have  taken."  But  the  opinion  of  the 
people  was  slowly  drifting  to  his  side.  A  sale  of  thirty  thousand 
copies  showed  that  the  "  Reflections  "  echoed  the  general  sentiment  of 
Englishmen.  The  mood  of  England  indeed  at  this  moment  was  un- 
favourable to  any  fair  appreciation  of  the  Revolution  across  the 
Channel.  Her  temper  was  above  all  industrial.  Men  who  were 
working  hard  and  fast  growing  rich,  who  had  the  narrow  and  practical 
turn  of  men  of  business,  looked  angrily  at  this  sudden  disturbance  of 
order,  this  restless  and  vague  activity,  these  rhetorical  appeals  to 
human  feehng,  these  abstract  and  often  empty  theories.  In  England 
it  was  a  time  of  political  content  and  social  well-being,  of  steady 
economic  progress,  and  of  a  powerful  religious  revival ;  and  an  insular 
lack  of  imaginative  interest  in  other  races  hindered  men  from  seeing 
that  every  element  of  this  content,  of  this  order,  of  this  peaceful  and 
harmonious  progress,  of  this  reconciliation  of  society  and  religion,  was 
wanting  abroad.  The  sympathy  which  the  Revolution  had  roused  at 
first  among  Englishmen  died  away  before  the  violence  of  its  legislative 
changes,  and  the  growing  anarchy  of  the  country.  Sympathy  in  fact 
was  soon  limited  to  a  few  groups  of  reformers  who  gathered  in  "  Con- 
stitutional Clubs,"  and  whose  reckless  language  quickened  the  national 
reaction.  But  in  spite  of  Burke's  appeals  and  the  cries  of  the  nobles 
who  had  fled  from  France  and  longed  only  to  march  against  their 
country,  Europe  held  back  from  war,  and  Pitt  preserved  his  attitude 
of  neutrality,  though  with  a  greater  appearance  of  reserve. 

So  anxious,  in  fact,  did  the  aspect  of  affairs  in  the  East  make  Pitt 
for  the  restoration  of  tranquillity  in  France,  that  he  foiled  a  plan  which 
its  emigrant  nobles  had  formed  for  a  descent  on  the  French  coast, 
and  declared  formally  at  Vienna  that  England  would  remain  absolutely 
neutral  should  hostilities  arise  between  France  and  the  Emperor. 
But  the  Emperor  was  as  anxious  to  avoid  a  French  war  as  Pitt  him- 
self. Though  Catharine,  now  her  strife  with  Turkey  was  over,  wished 
to  plunge  the  two  German  Powers  into  a  struggle  with  the  Revolution 
which  would  leave  her  free  to  annex  Poland  single-handed,  neither 
Leopold  nor  Prussia  would  tie  cneir  hands  by  such  a  contest.  The 
flight  of  Lewis  the  Sixteenth  from  Paris  in  June  1791  brought  Europe 
for  a  moment  to  the  verge  of  war  ;  but  he  was  intercepted  and  brought 
back  ;  and  for  a  while  the  danger  seemed  to  incline  the  revolutionists 
in  France  to  greater  moderation.  Lewis  too  not  only  accepted  the  Con- 
stitution, but  pleaded  earnestly  with  the  Emperor  against  any  armed  j 


ao4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


fCHAP 


intervention  as  certain  to  bring  ruin  to  his  throne.  In  their  conference 
at  Pillnitz  therefore,  in  August,  Leopold  and  the  King  of  Prussia  con- 
tented themselves  with  a  vague  declaration  inviting  the  European 
powers  to  co-operate  in  restoring  a  sound  form  of  government  in 
France,  availed  themselves  of  England's  neutrality  to  refuse  all  mili- 
tary aid  to  the  French  princes,  and  dealt  simply  with  the  affairs  of 
Poland.  But  the  peace  they  desired  soon  became  impossible.  The 
Constitutional  Royalists  in  France  availed  themselves  of  the  irritation 
caused  by  the  Declaration  of  Pillnitz  to  rouse  again  the  cry  for  a  war 
which,  as  they  hoped,  would  give  strength  to  the  throne.  The  more 
violent  revolutionists,  or  Jacobins,  on  the  other  hand,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  "  Girondists,"  or  deputies  from  the  south  of  France, 
whose  aim  was  a  republic,  and  who  saw  in  a  great  national  struggle  a 
means  of  overthrowing  the  monarchy,  decided  in  spite  of  the  opposition 
of  their  leader,  Robespierre,  on  a  contest  with  the  Emperor.  Both 
parties  united  to  demand  the  breaking  up  of  an  army  which  the 
emigrant  princes  had  formed  on  the  Rhine ;  and  though  Leopold 
assented  to  this  demand,  France  declared  war  against  his  successor, 
Francis,  in  April  1792. 

Misled  by  their  belief  in  a  revolutionary  enthusiasm  in  England, 
the  French  had  hoped  for  her  alliance  in  this  war ;  and  they  were 
astonished  and  indignant  at  Pitt's  resolve  to  stand  apart  from  the 
struggle.  It  was  in  vain  that  Pitt  strove  to  allay  this  irritation  by  de- 
manding only  that  Holland  should  remain  untouched,  and  promising 
neutrality  even  though  Belgium  should  be  occupied  by  a  French  army, 
or  that  he  strengthened  these  pledges  by  a  reduction  of  military  forces, 
and  by  bringing  forward  a  peace-budget  which  rested  on  a  large 
remission  of  taxation.  The  revolutionists  still  clung  to  the  hope  of 
England's  aid  in  the  emancipation  of  Europe,  but  they  came  now  to 
believe  that  England  must  itself  beemancipated  before  such  an  aid  could 
be  given.  Their  first  work  therefore  they  held  to  be  the  bringing  about 
a  revolution  in  England  which  might  free  the  people  from  the  aristo- 
cracy which  held  it  down,  and  which  oppressed,  as  they  believed,  great 
peoples  beyond  the  bounds  of  England  itself.  To  rouse  India,  to  rouse 
Ireland  to  a  struggle  which  should  shake  off"  the  English  yoke,  became 
necessary  steps  to  the  establishment  of  freedom  in  England.  From  this 
moment  therefore  French  agents  were  busy  **  sowing  the  revolution '  in 
each  quarter.  In  Ireland  they  entered  into  communicativ<n  with  the 
United  Irishmen.  In  India  they  appeared  at  the  courts  of  the  native 
princes.  In  England  itself  they  strove  through  the  Constitutional  Clubs 
to  rouse  the  same  spirit  which  they  had  roused  in  France ;  and  the 
French  envoy,  Chauvelin,  protested  warmly  against  a  proclamation 
which  denounced  this  correspondence  as  seditious.  The  effect  of  these 
revolutionary  ciTorts  on  the  friends  of  the  Revolution  was  seen  in  a 
declaration  which  they  wrested  from  Fox,  that  at  such  a  moment  even 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


805 


the  discussion  of  parliamentary  reform  was  inexpedient.  Meanwhile 
Burke  was  working  hard,  in  writings  whose  extravagance  of  style  was 
forgotten  in  their  intensity  of  feeling,  to  spread  alarm  throughout 
Europe.  He  had  from  the  first  encouraged  the  emigrant  princes  to 
take  arms,  and  sent  his  son  to  join  them  at  Coblentz.  "  Be  alarmists," 
he  wrote  to  them  ;  "  diffuse  terror  ! "  But  the  royalist  terror  which  he 
sowed  had  roused  a  revolutionary  terror  in  France  itself.  At  the 
threat  of  war  against  the  Emperor  the  two  German  Courts  had  drawn 
together,  and  reluctantly  abandoning  all  hope  of  peace  with  France, 
gathered  eighty  thousand  men  under  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  and 
advanced  slowly  in  August  on  the  Meuse.  France,  though  she  had 
forced  on  the  struggle,  was  really  almost  defenceless  ;  her  forces  in 
Belgium  broke  at  the  first  shock  of  arms  into  shameful  rout  ;  and  the 
panic  spreading  from  the  army  to  the  nation  at  large,  took  violent  and 
horrible  forms.  At  the  first  news  of  Brunswick's  advance  the  mob  of 
Paris  broke  into  the  Tuileries  on  the  loth  of  August ;  and  at  its  demand 
Lewis,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  Assembly,  was  suspended  from 
his  office  and  imprisoned  in  the  Temple.  In  September,  while 
General  Dumouriez  by  boldness  and  adroit  negotiations  arrested  the 
progress  of  the  allies  in  the  defiles  of  the  Argonne,  bodies  of  paid 
murderers  butchered  the  royalist  prisoners  who  crowded  the  gaols  of 
Paris,  with  a  view  of  influencing  the  elections  to  a  new  Convention 
which  met  to  proclaim  the  abolition  of  royalty.  The  retreat  of  the  Prus- 
sian army,  whose  numbers  had  been  reduced  by  disease  till  an  advance 
on  Paris  became  impossible,  and  a  brilliant  victory  won  by  Dumouriez 
at  Jemappes  which  laid  the  Netherlands  at  his  feet,  turned  the  panic 
of  the  French  into  a  wild  self-confidence.  In  November  the  Con- 
vention decreed  that  France  offered  the  aid  of  her  soldiers  to  all 
nations  who  would  strive  for  freedom.  "  All  Governments  are  our 
enemies,"  said  its  President ;  "  all  peoples  are  our  allies."  In  the  teeth 
of  treaties  signed  only  two  years  before,  and  of  the  stipulation  made  by 
England  when  it  pledged  itself  to  neutrality,  the  French  Government 
resolved  to  attack  Holland,  and  ordered  its  generals  to  enforce  by 
arms  the  opening  of  the  Scheldt. 

To  do  this  was  to  force  England  into  war.  Public  opinion  was 
pressing  harder  day  by  day  upon  Pitt.  The  horror  of  the  massacres 
of  September,  the  hideous  despotism  of  the  Parisian  mob,  had  done 
more  to  estrange  England  from  the  Revolution  than  all  the  eloquence 
of  Burke.  But  even  while  withdrawing  our  Minister  from  Paris  on  the 
imprisonment  of  the  King,  Pitt  clung  stubbornly  to  the  hope  of  peace. 
His  hope  was  to  bring  the  war  to  an  end  through  English  mediation, 
and  to  "leave  France,  which  I  beheve  is  the  best  way,  to  arrange  its 
own  internal  affairs  as  it  can."  No  hour  of  Pitt's  life  is  so  great 
as  the  hour  when  he  stood  alone  in  England,  and  refused  to  bow  to 
the  growing  cry  of  the  nation  for  war.     Even  the  news  of  the  Septem- 


8o6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


ber  massacres  could  only  force  from  him  a  hope  that  France  might 
abstain  from  any  war  of  conquest,  and  escape  from  its  social  anarchy. 
In  October  the  French  agent  in  England  reported  that  Pitt  was  about 
to  recognize  the  Republic.  At  the  opening  of  November  he  still 
pressed  on  Holland  a  steady  neutrality.  It  was  France,  and  not 
England,  which  at  last  wrenched  from  his  grasp  the  peace  to  which 
he  clung  so  desperately.  The  decree  of  the  Convention  and  the  attack 
on  the  Dutch  left  him  no  choice  but  war,  for  it  was  impossible  for 
England  to  endure  a  French  fleet  at  Antwerp,  or  to  desert  allies  like 
the  United  Provinces.  But  even  in  December  the  news  of  the  ap- 
proaching partition  of  Poland  nerved  him  to  a  last  struggle  for  peace  ; 
he  offered  to  aid  Austria  in  acquiring  Bavaria  if  she  would  make 
terms  with  France,  and  pledged  himself  to  France  to  abstain  from  war 
if  that  power  would  cease  from  violating  the  independence  of  her 
neighbour  states.  But  across  the  Channel  his  moderation  was  only 
taken  for  fear,  while  in  England  the  general  mourning  which  followed 
on  the  news  of  the  French  King's  execution  showed  the  growing 
ardour  for  the  contest.  The  rejection  of  his  last  offers  indeed  made  a 
contest  inevitable.  Both  sides  ceased  from  diplomatic  communica- 
tions, and  in  February,  1793,  France  issued  her  Declaration  of  War. 


Section  IV.— The  War  with  France.    1793—1815. 

{Authorities. — To  those  mentioned  before  we  may  add  Moore's  Life  of  Sheri- 
dan ;  the  Lives  of  Lord  Castlereagh,  Lord  Eldon,  and  Lord  Sidmouth  ;  Romilly's 
Memoirs ;  Lord  Cornwallis's  Correspondence  ;  Mr.  Yonge's  Life  of  Lord 
Liverpool  ;  the  Diaries  and  Correspondence  of  Lord  Malmesbury,  Lord 
Colchester,  and  Lord  Auckland.  For  the  general  history  of  England  at 
this  time,  see  Alison's  "History  of  Europe;"  for  its  military  history,  Sir 
William  Napier's  "  History  of  the  Peninsular  War."] 

From  the  moment  when  France  declared  war  against  England  Pitt's 
power  was  at  an  end.  His  pride,  his  immoveable  firmness,  and  the 
general  confidence  of  the  nation  still  kept  him  at  the  head  of  affairs  ; 
but  he  could  do  little  save  drift  along  with  a  tide  of  popular  feeling 
which  he  never  fully  understood.  The  very  excellences  of  his  character 
unfitted  him  for  the  conduct  of  a  war.  He  was  in  fact  a  Peace  Minister, 
forced  into  war  by  a  panic  and  enthusiasm  which  he  shared  in  a  very 
small  degree,  and  unaided  by  his  father's  gift  of  at  once  entering  into 
the  sympathies  and  passions  around  him,  and  of  rousing  passions  and 
sympathies  in  return.  Around  him  the  country  broke  out  in  a  fit  of 
frenzy  and  alarm  which  rivalled  the  passion  and  panic  over-sea.  The 
confidence  of  France  In  its  illusions  as  to  opinion  in  England  deluded 
for  the  moment  even  Englishmen  themselves.  The  partizans  of  Re- 
publicanism were  in  reality  but  a  few  handfuls  of  men  who  played  at 
gathering  Conventions,  and  at  calling  themselves  citizens  and  patriots, 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


807 


in  childish  imitation  of  what  was  going  on  across  the  Channel.  But  in 
the  mass  of  Englishmen  the  dread  of  revolution  passed  for  the  hour 
into  sheer  panic.  Even  the  bulk  of  the  Whig  party  forsook  Fox 
when  he  still  proclaimed  his  faith  in  France  and  the  Revolution.  The 
"  Old  Whigs,"  as  they  called  themselves,  with  the  Duke  of  Portland, 
Earls  Spencer  and  Fitzwilliam,  and  Mr.  Windham  at  their  head, 
followed  Burke  in  giving  their  adhesion  to  the  Government.  Pitt 
himself,  though  little  touched  by  the  political  reaction  around  him,  was 
shaken  by  the  dream  of  social  danger,  and  believed  in  the  existence 
of  "thousands  of  bandits,"  who  were  ready  to  rise  against  the  throne, 
to  plunder  every  landlord,  and  to  sack  London.  "  Paine  is  no  fool," 
he  said  to  his  niece,  who  quoted  to  him  a  passage  from  the  "  Rights 
of  Man,"  in  which  that  author  had  vindicated  the  principles  of  the 
Revolution  ;  "  he  is  perhaps  right ;  but  if  I  did  what  he  wants,  I  should 
have  thousands  of  bandits  on  my  hands  to-morrow,  and  London  burnt." 
It  was  this  sense  of  social  danger  which  alone  reconciled  him  to  the 
war.  Bitter  as  the  need  of  the  struggle  which  was  forced  upon 
England  was  to  him,  he  accepted  it  with  the  less  reluctance  that  war, 
as  he  trusted,  would  check  the  progress  of  "  French  principles "  in 
England  itself  The  worst  issue  of  this  panic  was  the  series  of  legis- 
lative measures  in  which  it  found  expression.  The  Habeas  Corpus 
Act  was  suspended,  a  bill  against  seditious  assemblies  restricted  the 
liberty  of  public  meeting,  and  a  wider  scope  was  given  to  the  Statute 
of  Treasons.  Prosecution  after  prosecution  was  directed  against  the 
Press  ;  the  sermons  of  some  dissenting  ministers  were  indicted  as 
seditious ;  and  the  conventions  of  sympathizers  with  France  were 
roughly  broken  up.  The  worst  excesses  of  the  panic  were  witnessed 
in  Scotland,  where  young  Whigs,  whose  only  offence  was  an  advocacy 
of  Parliamentary  reform,  were  sentenced  to  transportation,  and  where 
a  brutal  judge  openly  expressed  his  regret  that  the  practice  of  torture  in 
seditious  cases  should  have  fallen  into  disuse.  The  panic  indeed  soon 
passed  away  for  sheer  want  of  material  to  feed  on.  In  1 794  the  leaders 
of  the  Corresponding  Society,  a  body  which  professed  sympathy  with 
France,  were  brought  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  high  treason,  but  their 
acquittal  proved  that  all  active  terror  was  over.  Save  for  occasional 
riots,  to  which  the  poor  were  goaded  by  sheer  want  of  bread,  no 
social  disturbance  troubled  England  through  the  twenty  years  of  the 
war.  But  the  blind  reaction  against  all  reform  which  had  sprung  from 
the  panic  lasted  on  when  the  panic  was  forgotten.  For  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century  it  was  hard  to  get  a  hearing  for  any  measure 
which  threatened  change  to  an  existing  institution,  beneficial  though 
the  change  might  be.  Even  the  philanthropic  movement  which  so 
nobly  characterized  the  time  found  itself  checked  and  hampered  by 
the  dread  of  revolution. 

At  first  indeed  all  seemed  to  go  ill  for  France.     She  was  girt  m. 


8o8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


by  a  ring  of  enemies  ;  the  Empire,  Austria,  Prussia,  Sardinia,  Spain, 
and  England  were  leagued  in  arms  against  her  ;  and  their  efforts 
were  seconded  by  civil  war.  The  peasants  of  Poitou  and  Britanny 
rose  in  revolt  against  the  government  at  Paris,  while  Marseilles  and 
Lyons  were  driven  into  insurrection  by  the  violent  leaders  who  now 
seized  on  power  in  the  capital.  The  French  armies  were  driven  back 
from  the  Netherlands  when  ten  thousand  English  soldiers,  under  the 
Duke  of  York,  joined  the  Austrians  in  Flanders  in  1793.  But  the 
chance  of  crushing  the  Revolution  was  lost  by  the  greed  of  the  twc 
German  powers.  Russia,  as  Pitt  had  foreseen,  was  now  free  to  carry 
out  her  schemes  in  the  East ;  and  Austria  and  Prussia  saw  themselves 
forced,  in  the  interest  of  a  balance  of  power,  to  share  in  her  annexations 
at  the  cost  of  Poland.  But  this  new  division  of  Poland  would  have 
become  impossible  had  France  been  enabled  by  a  restoration  of  its 
monarchy  to  take  up  again  its  natural  position  in  Europe,  and  to  accept 
the  alliance  which  Pitt  would  in  such  a  case  have  offered  her.  The 
policy  of  the  German  courts  therefore  was  to  prolong  an  anarchy  which 
left  them  free  for  the  moment  to  crush  Poland  :  and  the  allied  armies 
which  might  have  marched  upon  Paris  were  purposely  frittered  away 
in  sieges  in  the  Netherlands  and  the  Rhine.  Such  a  policy  gave 
France  time  to  recover  from  the  shock  of  her  disasters.  Whatever 
were  the  crimes  and  tyranny  of  her  leaders,  France  felt  in  spile  of 
them  the  value  of  the  Revolution,  and  rallied  enthusiastically  to  its 
support.  The  revolts  in  the  West  and  South  were  crushed.  The 
Spanish  invaders  were  held  at  bay  at  the  foot  of  the  Pyrenees,  and  the 
Piedmontese  were  driven  from  N  ice  and  Savoy.  The  great  port  of 
Toulon,  which  called  for  foreign  aid  against  the  government  of  Paris,  and 
admitted  an  English  garrison  within  its  walls,  was  driven  to  surrender 
by  measures  counselled  by  a  young  artillery  officer  from  Corsica,  Napo- 
leon Buonaparte.  At  the  opening  of  1 794  a  victory  at  Fleurus  which  again 
made  the  French  masters  of  the  Netherlands  showed  that  the  tide  had 
turned.  France  was  united  within  by  the  cessation  of  the  Terror  and 
of  the  tyranny  of  the  Jacobins,  while  on  every  border  victory  followed 
the  gigantic  efforts  with  which  she  met  the  coalition  against  her. 
Spain  sued  for  peace  ;  Prussia  withdrew  her  armies  from  the  Khine  ; 
the  Sardinians  were  driven  back  from  the  Maritime  Alps  ;  the  Rhine 
provinces  were  wrested  from  the  Austrians  ;  and  before  the  year  ended 
Holland  was  lost.  Pichegru  crossed  the  Waal  in  mid-winter  with  an 
overwhelming  force,  and  the  wretched  remnant  of  ten  thousand  men 
who  had  followed  the  Duke  of  York  to  the  Netherlands,  thinned  by 
disease  and  by  the  hardships  of  retreat,  re-embarked  for  England. 

The  victories  of  France  broke  up  the  confederacy  which  had  threat- 
ened it  with  destruction.  The  Batavian  republic  which  Pichegru  had 
set  up  after  his  conquest  of  Holland  was  now  an  ally  of  France 
Prussia  bought  peace  by  the  cession  of  her  possessions  west  of  the 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


809 


Rhine.  Peace  with  Spain  followed  in  the  summer,  while  Sweden  and 
the  Protestant  cantons  of  Switzerland  recognized  the  Republic.  In 
France  itself  discord  came  well-nigh  to  an  end.  The  fresh  severities 
against  the  ultra-republicans  which  followed  on  the  establishment  of  a 
Directory  indicated  the  moderate  character  of  the  new  government, 
and  Pitt  seized  on  this  change  in  the  temper  of  the  French  govern- 
ment as  giving  an  opening  for  peace.  Pitt  himself  was  sick  of  the 
strife.  England  had  maintained  indeed  her  naval  supremacy.  The 
triumphs  of  her  seamen  were  in  st~ange  contrast  with  her  weakness 
on  land  ;  and  at  the  outset  of  the  contest,  in  1794,  the  French  fleet  was 
defeated  off  Brest  by  Lord  Howe  in  a  victory  which  bore  the  name  of 
the  day  on  which  it  was  won,  the  First  of  June.  Her  colonial  gains 
too  had  been  considerable.  Most  of  the  West  Indian  islands  which 
had  been  held  by  France,  and  the  far  more  valuable  settlements  of  the 
Dutch,  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Ceylon,  and  the  famous  Spice  Islands 
of  the  Malaccas  and  Java  had  been  transferred  to  the  British  Crown. 
But  Pitt  was  without  means  of  efficiently  carrying  on  the  war.  The 
army  was  small  and  without  military  experience,  while  its  leaders 
were  utterly  incapable.  "  We  have  no  General,"  wrote  Lord  Grenville, 
"  but  some  old  woman  in  a  red  riband."  Wretched  too  as  had  been 
the  conduct  of  the  war,  its  cost  was  already  terrible.  If  England  was 
without  soldiers,  she  had  wealth,  and  Pitt  had  been  forced  to  turn 
her  wealth  into  an  engine  of  war.  He  became  the  paymaster  of  the 
coalition,  and  his  subsidies  kept  the  allied  armies  in  the  field.  But 
the  immense  loans  which  these  called  for,  and  the  quick  growth  of 
expenditure,  undid  all  his  financial  reforms.  Taxation,  which  had 
reached  its  lowest  point  under  Pitt's  peace  administration,  mounted 
to  a  height  undreamt  of  before.  The  public  debt  rose  by  leaps  and 
bounds.     In  three  years  nearly  eighty  millions  had  been  added  to  it. 

But  though  the  ruin  of  his  financial  hopes,  and  his  keen  sense  of  the 
European  dangers  which  the  contest  involved,  made  Pitt  earnest  to 
close  the  struggle  with  the  Revolution,  he  stood  almost  alone  in  his 
longings  for  peace.  The  nation  at  large  was  still  ardent  for  war,  and 
its  ardour  was  fired  by  Burke  in  his  "Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace," 
the  last  outcry  of  that  fanaticism  which  had  done  so  much  to  plunge 
the  world  in  blood.  Nor  was  France  less  ardent  for  war  than  England. 
At  the  moment  when  Pitt  sought  to  open  negotiations,  her  victories 
had  roused  hopes  of  wider  conquests,  and  though  General  Moreau 
was  foiled  in  a  march  on  Vienna,  the  wonderful  successes  of  Napoleon 
Buonaparte,  who  now  took  the  command  of  the  army  of  the  Alps,  laid 
Piedmont  at  her  feet.  Lombardy  was  soon  in  the  hands  of  the  French, 
the  Duchies  south  of  the  Po  pillaged,  and  the  Pope  driven  to  purchase 
an  armistice.  Fresh  victories  enabled  Buonaparte  to  wring  a  peace 
from  Austria  in  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  which  not  only  gave 
France  the  Ionian  Islands,  a  part  of  the  old  territory  of  Venice,  as 

2 


8io 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


well  as  the  Netherlands  and  the  whole  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  but 
united  Lombardy  with  the  Duchies  south  of  the  Po,  and  the  Papal 
States  as  far  as  the  Rubicon,  into  a  "  Cisalpine  Republic,"  which  was 
absolutely  beneath  her  control.  The  withdrawal  of  Austria  left  France 
without  an  enemy  on  the  Continent,  and  England  without  an  ally. 
The  stress  of  the  war  was  pressing  more  heavily  on  her  every  day. 
The  alarm  of  a  French  invasion  of  Ireland  brought  about  a  suspension 
of  specie  payments  on  the  part  of  the  Bank.  A  mutiny  in  the  fleet 
was  suppressed  with  difficulty.  It  was  in  this  darkest  hour  of  the 
struggle  that  Burke  passed  away,  protesting  to  the  last  against  the 
peace  which,  in  spite  of  his  previous  failure,  Pitt  tried  in  1797  to 
negotiate  at  Lille.  Peace  seemed  more  needful  to  him  than  ever  ;  for 
the  naval  supremacy  of  Britain  was  threatened  hy  a  coalition  such  as 
had  all  but  crushed  her  in  the  American  War.  Again  the  Dutch 
and  Spanish  fleets  were  allied  with  the  fleets  of  France,  and  if  they 
gained  command  of  the  Channel,  it  would  enable  France  to  send  over- 
whelming forces  in  aid  of  the  rising  which  was  planned  in  Ireland. 
But  the  danger  had  hardly  threatened  when  it  was  dispelled  by  two 
great  victories.  When  in  1797  the  Spanish  fleet  put  out  to  sea,  it  was 
attacked  by  Admiral  Jervis  off  Cape  St.  Vincent  and  driven  back  to 
Cadiz  with  the  loss  of  four  of  its  finest  vessels  ;  while  the  Dutch  fleet 
from  the  Texel,  which  was  to  protect  a  French  force  in  its  descent 
upon  Ireland,  was  met  by  a  far  larger  fleet  under  Admiral  Duncan, 
and  almost  annihilated  in  a  battle  off  Camperdown,  after  an  obstinate 
struggle  which  showed  the  Hollanders  still  worthy  of  their  old  renown. 
The  ruin  of  its  hopes  in  the  battle  of  Camperdown  drove  Ireland  to  a 
rising  of  despair  ;  but  the  revolt  was  crushed  by  the  defeat  of  the  insur- 
gents at  Vinegar  Hill  in  May,  1798,  and  the  surrender  of  General  Hum- 
bert, who  landed  in  August  with  a  French  force.  Of  the  threefold  attack 
on  which  the  Directory  relied,  two  parts  had  now  broken  down.  Eng- 
land still  held  the  seas,  and  the  insurrection  in  Ireland  had  failed. 
The  next  year  saw  the  crowning  victory  of  the  Nile.  The  genius  of 
Buonaparte  had  seized  on  the  schemes  for  a  rising  in  India,  where 
Tippoo  Sahib,  the  successor  of  Hyder  Ali  in  Mysore,  had  vowed  to 
drive  the  English  from  the  south  ;  and  he  laid  before  the  Directory  a 
plan  for  the  conquest  of  Egypt  as  a  preliriiinary  to  a  campaign  in 
Southern  India.  In  1798  he  landed  in  Egypt  ;  and  its  conquest  was 
rapid  and  complete.  But  the  thirteen  men-of-war  which  had  escorted 
his  expedition  were  found  by  Admiral  Nelson  in  Aboukir  Bay,  moored 
close  to  the  coast  in  a  line  guarded  at  either  end  by  gun-boats  and 
batteries.  Nelson  resolved  to  thrust  his  own  ships  between  the 
French  and  the  shore  ;  his  flagship  led  the  way  ;  and  after  a  terrible 
fight  of  twelve  hours,  nine  of  the  French  vessels  were  captured  and 
destroyed,  two  were  burnt,  and  five  thousand  French  seamen  were 
killed  or  made  prisoners.     All  communication  between  France  and 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


8if 


Buonaparte's  army  was  cut  off;  and  his  hopes  of  making  Egypt  a 
starting-point  for  the  conquest  of  India  fell  at  a  blow. 

Freed  from  the  dangers  that  threatened  her  rule  in  Ireland  and  in 
India,  and  mistress  of  the  seas,  England  was  free  to  attack  France  ; 
and  in  such  an  attack  she  was  aided  at  this  moment  by  the  temper  of 
the  European  powers,  "and  the  ceaseless  aggressions  of  France.  Russia 
formed  a  close  alliance  with  Austria  ;  and  it  was  with  renewed  hope 
that  Pitt  lavished  subsidies  on  the  two  allies.  A  union  of  the  Russian 
and  Austrian  armies  drove  the  French  back  again  across  the  Alps  and 
the  Rhine  ;  but  the  stubborn  energy  of  General  Massena  enabled  his 
soldiers  to  hold  their  ground  in  Switzerland  ;  and  the  attempt  of  a 
united  force  of  Russians  and  English  to  wrest  Holland  from  its  French 
masters  was  successfully  repulsed.  In  the  East,  however,  England  was 
more  successful.  Foiled  in  his  dreams  of  Indian  conquests,  Buona- 
parte conceived  the  design  of  the  conquest  of  Syria,  and  of  the  creation 
of  an  army  among  its  warlike  mountaineers,  with  which  he  might 
march  upon  Constantinople  or  India  at  his  will.  But  Acre,  the 
key  of  Syria,  was  stubbornly  held  by  the  Turks,  the  French  bat- 
tering train  was  captured  at  sea  by  an  English  captain,  Sir  Sidney 
Smith,  whose  seamen  aided  in  the  defence  of  the  place,  and  the 
besiegers  were  forced  to  fall  back  upon  Egypt.  The  French  general 
despairing  of  success  left  his  army  and  returned  to  France.  His  arrival 
in  Paris  was  soon  followed  by  the  overthrow  of  the  Directors.  Three 
consuls  took  their  place  ;  but  under  the  name  of  First  Consul  Buona- 
parte became  in  effect  sole  ruler  of  the  country.  His  energy  at  once 
changed  the  whole  face  of  European  affairs.  The  offers  of  peace  which 
he  made  to  England  and  Austria  were  intended  to  do  little  more  than 
to  shake  the  coalition,  and  gain  breathing  time  for  the  organization  of 
a  new  force  which  was  gathering  in  secrecy  at  Dijon,  while  Moreau 
with  the  army  of  the  Rhine  pushed  again  along  the  Danube.  The 
First  Consul  crossed  the  Saint  Bernard  in  1800,  and  a  victory  at 
Marengo  forced  the  Austrians  to  surrender  Lombardy  ;  while  a  truce 
arrested  the  march  of  Moreau,  who  had  captured  Munich  and  was 
pushing  on  to  Vienna.  On  the  resumption  of  the  war  in  the  autumn 
the  Austrians  were  driven  back  on  Vienna  ;  and  Moreau  crushed  their 
army  on  the  Iser  in  the  victory  of  Hohenlinden.  In  Februar)-,  1801, 
the  Continental  War  was  brought  suddenly  to  an  end  by  the  Peace  of 
Luneville. 

It  was  but  a  few  months  before  the  close  of  the  war  that  Pitt  brought 
about  the  Union  of  Ireland  with  England.  The  history  of  Ireland, 
during  the  fifty  years  that  followed  its  conquest  by  William  the  Third, 
is  one  which  no  Englishman  can  recall  without  shame.  After  the 
surrender  of  Limerick  every  Catholic  Irishman,  and  there  were  five 
Irish  Catholics  to  every  Irish  Protestant,  was  treated  as  a  stranger 
and  a  foreigner  in  his  own  country.     The  House  of  Lords,  the  House , 


Sec.  IV. 
The 

W^AR  WITH 

France 
1793 

TO 

1815 

The 
Peace  off 
LuneTillc 


Nov.  10 
1799 


Juue  14 
1800 


Dec.  2 


Ireland 
under  the 
Georgres 


8l2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


of  Commons,  the  magistracy,  all  corporate  oflfices  in  towns,  all  ranks 
in  the  army,  the  bench,  the  bar,  the  whole  administration  of  govern- 
ment or  justice,  were  closed  against  Catholics.  The  very  right  of 
voting  for  their  representatives  in  Parliament  was  denied  them.  Few 
Catholic  landowners  had  been  left  by  the  sweeping  confiscations  which 
had  followed  the  successive  revolts  of  the  island,  and  oppressive  laws 
forced  even  these  few  with  scant  exceptions  to  profess  Protestant- 
ism. Necessity,  indeed,  had  brought  about  a  practical  toleration  of 
their  religion  and  their  worship ;  but  in  all  social  and  political 
matters  the  native  Catholics,  in  other  words  the  immense  majority  of 
the  people  of  Ireland,  were  simply  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water  to  their  Protestant  masters,  who  looked  on  themselves  as  mere 
settlers,  who  boasted  of  their  Scotch  or  English  extraction,  and 
who  regarded  the  name  of  "Irishman"  as  an  insult.  But  small  as 
was  this  Protestant  body,  one  half  of  it  fared  little  better,  as  far  as 
power  was  concerned,  than  the  Catholics  ;  for  the  Presbyterians,  who 
formed  the  bulk  of  the  Ulster  settlers,  were  shut  out  by  law  from  all 
civil,  military,  and  municipal  offices.  The  administration  and  justice 
of  the  country  were  thus  kept  rigidly  in  the  hands  of  members  of  the 
Established  Church,  a  body  which  comprised  about  a  twelfth  of  the 
population  of  the  island ;  while  its  government  was  practically 
monopolized  by  a  few  great  Protestant  landowners.  The  rotten 
boroughs,  which  had  originally  been  created  to  make  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment dependent  on  the  Crown,  had  fallen  under  the  influence  of  the 
adjacent  landlords,  who  were  thus  masters  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
while  they  formed  in  person  the  House  of  Peers.  During  the  first 
half  of  the  eighteenth  century  two  thirds  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
in  fact,  was  returned  by  a  small  group  of  nobles,  who  were  recognized 
as  "  parliamentary  undertakers,"  and  who  undertook  to  "  manage  ** 
Parliament  on  their  own  terms.  Irish  politics  were  for  these  men  a 
means  of  public  plunder  ;  they  were  glutted  with  pensions,  preferments, 
and  bribes  in  hard  cash  in  return  for  their  services  ;  they  were  the 
advisers  of  every  Lord-Lieutenant,  and  the  practical  governors  of  the 
country.  The  only  check  to  the  tyranny  of  this  narrow  and  corrupt 
oligarchy  was  in  the  connexion  of  Ireland  with  England  and  the 
subordination  of  its  Parliament  to  the  English  Privy  Council.  The 
Irish  Parliament  had  no  power  of  originating  legislative  or  financial 
measures,  and  could  only  say  "  yes  "  or  "  no  "  to  Acts  submitted  to  it 
by  the  Privy  Council  in  England.  The  English  Parliament  too  claimed 
the  right  of  binding  Ireland  as  well  as  England  by  its  enactments, 
and  one  of  its  statutes  transferred  the  appellate  jurisdiction  of  the 
Irish  Peerage  to  the  English  House  of  Lords.  But  as  if  to  com- 
pensate for  the  benefits  of  its  protection,  England  did  her  best  to 
annihilate  Irish  commerce  and  to  ruin  Irish  agriculture.  Statutes 
passed  by  the  jealousy  of  English  landowners  forbade  the  export  of 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


813 


Irish  cattle  or  sheep  to  Enghsh  ports.  The  export  of  wool  was  for- 
bidden, lest  it  might  interfere  with  the  profits  of  English  wool-growers. 
Poverty  was  thus  added  to  the  curse  of  misgovernment ;  and  poverty 
deepened  with  the  rapid  growth  of  the  native  population,  till  famine 
turned  the  country  into  a  hell. 

The  bitter  lesson  of  the  last  conquest,  however,  long  sufficed  to 
check  all  dreams  of  revolt  among  the  natives,  and  the  outbreaks  which 
sprang  from  time  to  time  out  of  the  general  misery  and  discontent  were 
purely  social  in  their  character,  and  were  roughly  repressed  by  the 
ruling  class.  When  political  revolt  threatened  at  last,  the  threat  came 
from  the  ruling  class  itself.  At  the  very  outset  of  the  reign  of  George 
the  Third,  the  Irish  Parliament  insisted  on  its  claim  to  the  exclusive 
control  of  money  bills,  and  a  cry  was  raised  for  the  removal  of  the  checks 
imposed  on  its  independence.  But  it  was  not  till  the  American  war 
that  this  cry  became  a  political  danger,  a  danger  so  real  that  England 
was  forced  to  give  way.  From  the  close  of  the  war,  when  the  Irish 
Volunteers  wrung  legislative  independence  from  the  Rockingham 
Ministry,  England  and  Ireland  were  simply  held  together  by  the  fact 
that  the  sovereign  of  the  one  island  was  also  the  sovereign  of  the 
other.  During  the  next  eighteen  years  Ireland  was  "independent;" 
but  its  independence  was  a  mere  name  for  the  uncontrolled  rule  of 
a  few  noble  families  and  of  the  Irish  Executive  backed  by  the  support 
of  the  English  Government.  To  such  a  length  had  the  whole  system 
of  monopoly  and  patronage  been  carried,  that  at  the  time  of  the 
Union  more  than  sixty  seats  were  in  the  hands  of  three  families 
alone,  those  of  the  Hills,  the  Ponsonbys,  and  the  Beresfords  ;  while 
the  dominant  influence  in  the  Parliament  now  lay  with  the  Treasury 
boroughs  at  the  disposal  of  the  Government.  The  victory  of  the 
Volunteers  immediately  produced  measures  in  favour  of  the  Catho- 
lics and  Presbyterians.  The  Volunteers  had  already  in  1780  won 
for  the  Presbyterians,  who  formed  a  good  half  of  their  force,  full 
political  liberty  by  the  abolition  of  the  Sacramental  Test ;  and  the 
Irish  Parliament  of  1782  removed  at  once  the  last  grievances  of 
the  Protestant  Dissenters.  The  Catholics  were  rewarded  for  their 
aid  by  the  repeal  of  the  more  grossly  oppressive  enactments  of  the 
penal  laws.  But  when  Grattan,  supported  by  the  bulk  of  the  Irish 
party,  pleaded  for  Parliamentary  reform,  and  for  the  grant  of  equal 
rights  to  the  Catholics,  he  was  utterly  foiled  by  the  small  group  of 
borough  owners,  who  chiefly  controlled  the  Government  and  the  Par- 
liament. The  ruling  class  found  government  too  profitable  to  share  it 
with  other  possessors.  It  was  only  by  hard  bribery  that  the  English 
Viceroys  could  secure  their  co-operation  in  the  simplest  measures  of 
administration.  "  If  ever  there  was  a  country  unfit  to  govern  itself," 
said  Lord  Hutchinson, "  it  is  Ireland.  A  corrupt  aristocracy,  a  ferocious 
commonalty,  a  distracted  Government,  a  divided  people  ! "     In  Pitt's 


Sl4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


eyes  the  danger  of  Ireland  lay  above  all  in  the  misery  of  its  people. 
Although  the  Irish  Catholics  were  held  down  by  the  brute  force  of 
their  Protestant  rulers,  he  saw  that  their  discontent  was  growing  fast 
into  rebellion,  and  that  one  secret  of  their  discontent  at  any  rate  lay 
in  Irish  poverty,  a  poverty  increased  if  not  originally  brought  about  by 
the  jealous  exclusion  of  Irish  products  from  their  natural  markets  in 
England  itself.  In  1779  Ireland  had  won  from  Lord  North  large 
measures  of  free-trade  abroad  ;  but  the  heavy  duties  laid  by  the  Eng- 
lish Parliament  on  all  Irish  manufactures  save  linen  and  woollen  yarn 
still  shut  them  out  of  England.  One  of  Pitt's  first  commercial  measures 
aimed  at  putting  an  end  to  this  exclusion  by  a  bill  which  established 
freedom  of  trade  between  the  two  islands.  His  first  proposals  were 
accepted  in  the  Irish  Parliament ;  but  the  fears  and  jealousies  of  the 
English  farmers  and  manufacturers  forced  into  the  Bill  amendments 
which  gave  to  the  British  Parliament  powers  over  Irish  navigation 
and  commerce,  thus  over-riding  their  newly-won  independence,  and 
the  measure  in  its  new  form  was  rejected  in  Ireland.  The  outbreak  of 
the  revolutionary  struggle,  and  the  efforts  which  the  French  revolu- 
tionists at  once  made  to  excite  rebellion  amongst  the  Irish,  roused 
Pitt  to  fresh  measures  of  conciliation  and  good  government.  In  1793 
he  forced  the  Irish  Administration  to  abandon  a  resistance  which  had 
wrecked  his  projects  the  previous  year;  and  the  Irish  Parliament 
passed  without  opposition  measures  for  the  admission  of  Catholics  to 
the  electoral  franchise,  and  to  civil  and  military  office  within  the  island, 
which  promised  to  open  a  new  era  of  religious  liberty.  But  the  promise 
came  too  late.  The  hope  of  conciliation  was  lost  in  the  fast  rising  tide 
of  religious  and  social  passion.  The  Society  of  "  United  Irishmen," 
which  was  founded  in  179 1  at  Belfast  by  Wolfe  Tone  with  a  view  of  form- 
ing a  union  between  Protestants  and  Catholics  to  win  Parliamentary 
reform,  drifted  into  a  correspondence  with  France  and  projects  of  insur- 
rection. The  peasantry,  brooding  over  their  misery  and  their  wrongs, 
were  equally  stirred  by  the  news  from  France  ;  and  their  discontent 
broke  out  in  outrages  of  secret  societies  which  spread  panic  among  the 
ruling  classes.  The  misery  was  increased  by  faction  fights  between 
the  Protestants  and  Catholics,  which  had  already  broken  out  before 
the  French  Revolution.  The  Catholics  banded  themselves  together 
as  "  Defenders  "  against  the  outrages  of  the  "  Peep-o'-day  Boys,"  who 
were  mainly  drawn  from  the  more  violent  Presbyterians;  and  these 
factions  became  later  merged  in  the  larger  associations  of  the'*  United 
Irishmen  "  and  the  "  Orange-men." 

At  last  the  smouldering  discontent  and  disaffection  burst  into  flame. 
The  panic  roused  in  1796  by  an  attempted  French  invasion  under 
Hoche  woke  passions  of  cruelty  and  tyranny  which  turned  Ireland 
into  a  hell.  Soldiers  and  yeomanry  marched  over  the  country  tor- 
turing and  scourging  the  "  croppies,"  as  the  Irish  peasantry  were 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


Sis 


called  in  derision  from  their  short-cut  hair,  robbing,  ravishing,  and 
murdering.  Their  outrages  were  sanctioned  by  the  landowners  who 
formed  the  Irish  Parliament  in  a  Bill  of  Indemnity,  and  protected 
for  the  future  by  an  Insurrection  Act.  Meanwhile  the  United  Irish- 
men prepared  for  an  insurrection,  which  was  delayed  by  the  failure 
of  the  French  expeditions,  on  which  they  counted  for  support,  and 
above  all  by  the  victory  of  Camperdown.  Atrocities  were  answered 
by  atrocities  when  the  revolt  at  last  broke  out  in  1798.  Loyalists  were 
lashed  and  tortured  in  their  turn,  and  every  soldier  taken  was  butchered 
without  mercy.  The  rebels  however  no  sooner  mustered  fourteen 
thousand  men  strong  in  a  camp  on  Vinegar  Hill,  near  Enniscorthy, 
than  the  camp  was  stormed  by  the  English  troops,  and  the  revolt 
utterly  suppressed.  The  suppression  came  only  just  in  time  to  prevent 
greater  disasters.  A  few  weeks  after  the  close  of  the  rebellion  nine 
hundred  French  soldiers  under  General  Humbert  landed  in  Mayo, 
broke  a  force  of  thrice  their  number  in  a  battle  at  Castlebar,  and  only 
surrendered  when  the  Lord-Lieutenant,  Lord  Comwallis,  faced  them 
with  thirty  thousand  men.  Pitt's  disgust  at  "  the  bigoted  fury  of  Irish 
Protestants  "  backed  Lord  Cornwallis  in  checking  the  reprisals  of  his 
troops  and  of  the  Orangemen  ;  but  the  hideous  cruelty  which  he  was 
forced  to  witness  brought  about  a  firm  resolve  to  put  an  end  to  the 
farce  of  "  Independence,"  which  left  Ireland  helpless  in  such  hands. 
The  political  necessity  for  a  union  of  the  two  islands  had  been  brought 
home  to  every  English  statesman  by  the  course  of  the  Irish  Parliament 
during  the  disputes  over  the  Regency  ;  for  while  England  repelled  the 
claims  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  the  Regency  as  of  right,  the  legislature 
of  Ireland  admitted  them.  As  the  only  union  left  between  the  two 
peoples  was  their  obedience  to  a  common  ruler,  such  an  act  might 
conceivably  have  ended  in  their  entire  severance  ;  and  the  sense  of 
this  danger  secured  a  welcome  in  England  for  Pitt's  proposal  to  unite 
the  two  Parliaments.  The  opposition  of  the  Irish  boroughmongers 
was  naturally  stubborn  and  determined.  But  with  them  it  was  a  sheer 
question  of  gold  ;  and  their  assent  was  bought  with  a  million  in  money, 
and  with  a  liberal  distribution  of  pensions  and  peerages.  Base  and 
shameless  as  were  such  means,  Pitt  may  fairly  plead  that  they  were 
the  only  means  by  which  the  bill  for  the  Union  could  have  been 
passed.  As  the  matter  was  finally  arranged  in  June  1800,  one  hundred 
Irish  members  became  part  of  the  House  of  Commons  at  Westminster, 
and  twenty-eight  temporal  with  four  spiritual  peers,  chosen  for  each 
Parliament  by  their  fellows,  took  their  seats  in  the  House  of  Lords. 
Commerce  between  the  two  countries  was  freed  from  all  restrictions, 
and  every  trading  privilege  of  the  one  thrown  open  to  the  other ;  while 
taxation  was  proportionately  distributed  between  the  two  peoples. 

The  lavish  creation  of  peers  which  formed  a  part  of  the  price  paid 
for  the  Union  of  Ireland  brought  about  a  practical  change  in  our 


8i6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


constitution.  Few  bodies  have  varied  more  in  the  number  of  their 
members  than  the  House  of  Lords.  At  the  close  of  the  Wars  of  the 
Roses  the  lay  lords  who  remained  numbered  fifty-two  ;  in  Elizabeth's 
reign  they  numbered  only  sixty  ;  the  prodigal  creations  of  the  Stuarts 
raised  them  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-six.  At  this  point,  however, 
they  practically  remained  stationary  during  the  reigns  of  the  first  two 
Georges  ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  only  the  dogged  opposition  of  Wal- 
pole  prevented  Lord  Stanhope  from  limiting  the  peerage  to  the  number 
it  had  at  that  time  reached.  Mischievous  as  such  a  measure  would 
have  been,  it  would  at  any  rate  have  prevented  the  lavish  creation  of 
peerages  on  which  George  the  Third  relied  in  the  early  days  of  his 
reign  as  one  of  his  means  of  breaking  up  the  party  government  which 
restrained  him.  But  what  was  with  the  King  a  mere  means  of  cor- 
ruption became  with  Pitt  a  settled  purpose  of  bringing  the  peerage  into 
closer  relations  with  the  landowning  and  opulent  classes,  and  render- 
ing the  Crown  independent  of  factious  combinations  among  the 
existing  peers.  While  himself  disdainful  of  hereditary  honours, 
he  lavished  them  as  no  Minister  had  lavished  them  before.  In  his 
first  five  years  of  rule  he  created  forty-eight  new  peers.  In  two  later 
years  alone,  1796-7,  he  created  thirty-five.  By  1801  the  peerages 
which  were  the  price  of  the  Union  with  Ireland  had  helped  to  raise 
his  creations  to  upwards  of  one  hundred  and  forty.  So  busily  was  his 
example  followed  by  his  successors  that  at  the  end  of  George  the 
Third's  reign  the  number  of  hereditary  peers  had  become  double 
what  it  was  at  his  accession.  The  whole  character  of  the  House  of 
Lords  was  changed.  Up  to  this  time  it  had  been  a  small  assembly  of 
great  nobles,  bound  together  by  family  or  party  ties  into  a  distinct 
power  in  the  State.  From  this  time  it  became  the  stronghold  of  pro- 
perty, the  representative  of  the  great  estates  and  great  fortunes  which 
the  vast  increase  of  English  wealth  was  building  up.  For  the  first 
time,  too,  in  our  history  it  became  the  distinctly  conservative  element 
in  our  constitution.  The  full  import  of  Pitt's  changes  has  still  to  be 
revealed,  but  in  some  ways  their  resuhs  have  been  clearly  marked. 
The  larger  number  of  the  peerage,  though  due  to  the  will  of  the 
Crown,  has  practically  freed  the  House,  from  any  influence  which  the 
Crown  can  exert  by  the  distribution  of  honours.  This  change,  since 
the  power  of  the  Crown  has  been  practically  wielded  by  the  House  of 
Commons,  has  rendered  it  far  harder  to  reconcile  the  free  action  of 
the  Lords  with  the  regular  working  of  constitutional  government.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  increased  number  of  its  members  has  rendered  the 
House  more  responsive  to  public  opinion,  when  public  opinion  is 
strongly  pronounced  ;  and  the  political  tact  which  is  inherent  in  great 
aristocratic  assemblies  has  hitherto  prevented  any  collision  with  the 
Lower  House  from  being  pushed  to  an  irreconcilable  quarrel. 

But  the  legislative  union  of  the  two  countries  was  only  part  of  the 


X.7 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


817 


plan  which  Pitt  had  conceived  for  the  conciliation  of  Ireland.  With 
the  conclusion  of  the  Union  his  projects  of  free  trade  between  the 
countries,  which  had  been  defeated  a  few  years  back,  came  into 
play;  and  in  spite  of  insufficient  capital  and  social  disturbance  the 
growth  of  the  trade,  shipping,  and  manufactures  of  Ireland  has 
gone  steadily  on  from  that  time  to  this.  The  change  which  brought 
Ireland  directly  under  the  common  Parliament  was  followed  too  by 
a  gradual  revision  of  its  oppressive  laws,  and  an  amendment  in 
their  administration  ;  taxati  m  was  lightened,  and  a  faint  beginning 
made  of  public  instruction.  But  in  Pitt's  mind  the  great  means 
of  conciliation  was  the  concession  of  religious  equality.  In  pro- 
posing to  the  English  Parliament  the  union  of  the  two  countries 
he  pointed  out  that  when  thus  joined  to  a  Protestant  country  like 
England  all  danger  of  a  Catholic  supremacy  in  Ireland,  should 
Catholic  disabilities  be  removed,  would  be  practically  at  an  end  ; 
and  had  suggested  that  in  such  a  case  "  an  effectual  and  adequate 
provision  for  the  Catholic  clergy"  would  be  a  security  for  their  loyalty. 
His  words  gave  strength  to  the  hopes  of  "  Catholic  Emancipation,"  or 
the  removal  of  what  remained  of  the  civil  disabilities  of  Catholics, 
which  were  held  out  by  the  viceroy.  Lord  Castlereagh,  in  Ireland  itself, 
as  a  means  of  hindering  any  opposition  to  the  project  of  Union  on  the 
part  of  the  Catholics.  It  was  agreed  on  all  sides  that  their  opposition 
would  have  secured  its  defeat ;  but  no  CathoHc  opposition  showed 
itself.  After  the  passing  of  the  bill,  Pitt  prepared  to  lay  before  the 
Cabinet  a  measure  which  would  have  raised  the  Irish  Catholic  to 
perfect  equality  of  civil  rights.  He  proposed  to  remove  all  religious 
tests  which  limited  the  exercise  of  the  franchise,  or  were  required  for 
admission  to  ^Parhamcnt,  the  magistracy,  the  bar,  municipal  offices, 
or  posts  in  the  army,  or  the  service  of  the  State.  An  oath  of  allegiance 
and  of  fidelity  to  the  Constitution  was  substituted  for  the  Sacramental 
test ;  while  the  loyalty  of  the  Catholic  and  Dissenting  clergy  was 
secured  by  a  grant  of  some  provision  to  both  by  the  State.  To  win 
over  the  Episcopal  Church,  measures  were  added  for  strengthening  its 
means  of  discipline,  and  for  increasing  the  stipends  of  its  poorer 
ministers.  A  commutation  of  tithes  was  to  remove  a  constant  source 
of  quarrel  in  Ireland  between  the  Protestant  clergy  and  the  Irish 
people.  The  scheme  was  too  large  and  statesmanlike  to  secure  the 
immediate  assent  of  the  Cabinet ;  and  before  that  assent  could  be 
won  the  plan  was  communicated  through  the  treachery  of  the  Chan- 
cellor, Lord  Loughborough,  to  George  the  Third.  "  I  count  any  man 
my  personal  enemy,"  the  King  broke  out  angrily  to  Dundas,  "  who 
proposes  any  such  measure."  Pitt  answered  this  outburst  by  sub- 
mitting his  whole  plan  to  the  King.  "  The  political  circumstances 
under  which  the  exclusive  laws  originated,"  he  wrote,  "  arising  either 
from  the  conflicting  powers  of  hostile  and  nearly  balanced  sects,  from 


8i8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


the  apprehension  of  a  Popish  Queen  as  successor,  a  disputed  suc- 
cession and  a  foreign  pretender,  a  division  in  Europe  between  Catholic 
and  Protestant  Powers,  are  no  longer  applicable  to  the  present  state 
of  things."  But  argument  was  wasted  upon  George  the  Third-  In 
spite  of  the  decision  of  the  lawyers  whom  he  consulted,  the  King  held 
himself  bound  by  his  Coronation  Oath  to  maintain  the  tests.  On  this 
point  his  bigotry  was  at  one  with  the  bigotry  of  the  bulk  of  his  subjects, 
as  well  as  with  their  political  distrust  of  Catholics  and  Irishmen  ;  and 
his  obstinacy  was  strengthened  by  a  knowledge  that  his  refusal  must 
drive  Pitt  from  office.  In  February  1801,  the  month  of  the  Peace  of 
Luneville,  Pitt  resigned,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  Speaker  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  Mr.  Addington,  a  weak  and  narrow-minded  man, 
and  as  bigoted  as  the  King  himself.  Of  Lord  Hawkesbury,  who  suc- 
ceeded Lord  Granville  in  the  conduct  of  foreign  affairs,  nothing  was 
known  outside  the  House  of  Commons. 

It  was  with  anxiety  that  England  found  itself  guided  by  men  like 
these  at  a  time  when  every  hour  brought  darker  news.  The  scarcity 
of  bread  was  mounting  to  a  famine.  Taxes  were  raised  anew,  and 
yet  the  loan  for  the  year  amounted  to  five  and  twenty  millions.  The 
country  stood  utterly  alone  ;  while  the  peace  of  Luneville  secured 
France  from  all  hostility  on  the  Continent.  And  it  was  soon  plain 
that  this  peace  was  only  the  first  step  in  a  new  policy  on  the  part 
of  the  First  Consul.  What  he  had  done  was  to  free  his  hands  for 
a  decisive  conflict  with  Britain  itself,  both  as  a  world-power  and  as 
a  centre  of  wealth.  England  was  at  once  the  carrier  of  European 
commerce,  and  the  workshop  of  European  manufactures.  While  her 
mines,  her  looms,  her  steam-engines,  were  giving  her  almost  a 
monopoly  of  industrial  production,  the  carrying  trade  of  France 
and  Holland  alike  had  been  transferred  to  the  British  flag,  and  the 
conquest  during  the  war  of  their  richer  settlements  had  thr-^wn  int( 
British  hands  the  whole  colonial  trade  of  the  world.  In  his  gigantic 
project  of  a  "  Continental  System  "the  aim  of  Buonaparte  was  to  strike 
at  the  trade  of  England  by  closing  the  ports  of  Europe  against  her  ships. 
By  a  league  of  the  Northern  powers  he  sought  to  wrest  from  her  the  com- 
mand of  the  seas.  Denmark  and  Sweden,  who  resented  the  severity 
with  which  Britain  enforced  that  right  of  search  which  had  brought 
about  their  armed  neutrality  at  the  close  of  the  American  war,  were 
enlisted  in  a  league  of  neutrals  which  was  in  effect  1  declaration  ot 
war  against  England,  and  which  Prussia  was  prepared  to  join.  The 
Czar  Paul  of  Russia  on  his  side  saw  in  the  power  of  Britain  the 
chief  obstacle  to  his  designs  upon  Turkey.  A  squabble  over  Malta, 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  Knights  of  St.  John  by  Buona' 
parte  on  his  way  to  Egypt,  and  had  ever  since  been  blockaded  by 
English  ships,  but  whose  possession  the  Czar  claimed  as  his  own 
on  the  ground  of  an  alleged  election  as  Grand  Master  of  the  Order, 


X.] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


S19 


served  him  as  a  pretext  for  a  quarrel  with  England,  and  Paul  openly 
prepared  for  hostilities.  It  was  plain  that  as  soon  as  spring  opened 
the  Baltic,  the  fleets  of  Russia,  Sweden,  and  Denmark  would  act  in 
practical  union  with  those  of  France  and  Spain.  But  dexterous  as 
the  combination  was  it  was  shattered  at  a  blow.  In  April  a  British 
fleet  appeared  before  Copenhagen,  and  after  a  desperate  struggle 
silenced  the  Danish  batteries,  captured  six  Danish  ships,  and  forced 
Denmark  to  conclude  an  armistice  which  enabled  English  ships  to 
enter  the  Baltic.  The  Northern  Coalition  too  was  broken  up  by  the 
death  of  the  Czar.  In  June  a  Convention  between  England  and  Russia 
settled  the  vexed  questions  of  the  right  of  search  and  contraband  of 
war,  and  this  Convention  was  accepted  by  Sweden  and  Denmark. 
Meanwhile,  at  the  very  moment  of  the  attack  on  Copenhagen,  a  stroke 
as  effective  had  wrecked  the  projects  of  Buonaparte  in  the  East.  The 
surrender  of  Malta  to  the  English  fleet  left  England  the  mistress  of 
the  Mediterranean  ;  and  from  Malta  she  now  turned  to  Egypt  itself. 
A  force  of  1 5,000  men  under  General  Abercromby  anchored  in  Aboukir 
Bay.  The  French  troops  that  Buonaparte  had  left  in  Egypt  rapidly 
concentrated,  and  on  the  21st  of  March  their  general  attacked  the 
English  army.  After  a  stubborn  battle,  in  which  Abercromby  fell 
mortally  wounded,  the  French  drew  off  with  heavy  loss  ;  and  at  the 
close  of  June  the  capitulation  of  the  13,000  soldiers  who  remained 
closed  the  French  rule  over  Egypt. 

Both  parties  in  this  gigantic  struggle  however  were  at  last  anxious 
to  suspend  the  war.  It  was  to  give  time  for  such  an  organization  of 
France  and  its  resources  as  might  enable  him  to  reopen  the  struggle  with 
other  chances  of  success  that  Buonaparte  opened  negotiations  for  peace 
at  the  close  of  180 1.  His  offers  were  at  once  met  by  the  English  Govern- 
ment. The  terms  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  which  was  concluded  in 
March  1802  were  necessarily  simple,  for  England  had  no  claim  to 
interfere  with  the  settlement  of  the  Continent.  France  promised  to 
retire  from  Southern  Italy,  and  to  leave  to  themselves  the  republics 
it  had  set  up  along  its  border  in  Holland,  Switzerland  and  Piedmont. 
England  recognized  the  French  Government,  gave  up  her  newly 
conquered  colonies  save  Ceylon  and  Trinidad,  acknowledged  the 
Ionian  Islands  as  a  free  Republic,  and  engaged  to  replace  the 
Knights  of  St.  John  in  the  isle  of  Malta.  There  was  a  general 
sense  of  relief  at  the  close  of  the  long  struggle  ;  and  the  new  French 
ambassador  was  drawn  in  triumph  on  his  arrival  through  the  streets 
of  London.  But  shrewd  observers  saw  the  dangers  that  lay  in  the 
temper  of  the  First  Consul.  Whatever  had  been  the  errors  of  the 
French  revolutionists,  even  their  worst  attacks  on  the  independence 
of  the  nations  around  them  had  been  veiled  by  a  vague  notion  of 
freeing  the  peoples  whom  they  invaded  from  the  yoke  of  their 
rulers^      But  the  aim  of  Buonaparte  was  simply  that  of  a  vulgar 


820 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap. 


conqueror.  He  was  resolute  to  be  master  of  the  Western  world,  and 
no  notions  of  popular  freedom  or  sense  of  national  right  interfered  with 
his  resolve.  The  means  at  his  command  were  immense.  The 
political  life  of  the  Revolution  had  been  cut  short  by  his  military 
despotism,  but  the  new  social  vigour  which  it  had  given  to  France 
through  the  abolition  of  privileges  and  the  creation  of  a  new  middle 
class  on  the  ruins  of  the  clergy  and  the  nobles  still  lived  on.  While 
the  dissensions  which  tore  France  asunder  were  hushed  by  the  policy 
of  the  First  Consul,  by  his  restoration  of  the  Church  as  a  religious 
power,  his  recall  of  the  exiles,  and  the  economy  and  wise  administra- 
tion which  distinguished  his  rule,  the  centralized  system  of  government 
bequeathed  by  the  Monarchy  to  the  Revolution,  and  by  the  Revolution 
to  Buonaparte,  enabled  him  easily  to  seize  this  national  vigour  for  the 
profit  of  his  own  despotism.  The  exhaustion  of  the  brilliant  hopes 
raised  by  the  Revolution,  the  craving  for  public  order,  the  military 
enthusiasm  and  the  impulse  of  a  new  glory  given  by  the  wonderful 
victories  France  had  won,  made  a  Tyranny  possible  ;  and  in  the  hands 
of  Buonaparte  this  tyranny  was  supported  by  a  secret  police,  by  the 
suppression  of  the  press  and  of  all  freedom  of  opinion,  and  above  all 
by  the  iron  will  and  immense  ability  of  the  First  Consul  himself  Once 
chosen  Consul  for  life,  he  felt  himself  secure  at  home,  and  turned 
restlessly  to  the  work  of  outer  aggression.  The  pledges  given  at 
Amiens  were  set  aside.  The  republics  established  on  the  borders  of 
France  were  brought  into  mere  dependence  on  his  will.  Piedmont  and 
Parma  were  annexed  to  France ;  and  a  French  army  occupied 
Switzerland.  The  temperate  protests  of  the  English  Government 
were  answered  by  demands  for  the  expulsion  of  the  French  exiles 
who  had  been  living  in  England  ever  since  the  Revolution,  and 
for  its  surrender  of  Malta,  which  was  retained  till  some  security 
could  be  devised  against  a  fresh  seizure  of  the  island  by  the  French 
fleet.  It  was  plain  that  a  struggle  was  inevitable ;  huge  armaments 
were  preparing  in  the  French  ports,  and  a  new  activity  was  seen  in 
those  of  Spain.  In  May  1803  the  British  Government  anticipated 
Buonaparte's  attack  by  a  declaration  of  war. 

The  breach  only  quickened  Buonaparte's  resolve  to  attack  the 
enemy  at  home.  The  difficulties  in  his  way  he  set  contemptuously 
aside.  "  Fifteen  millions  of  people,"  he  said,  in  allusion  to  the  dis- 
proportion between  the  population  of  England  and  France,  "must 
give  way  to  forty  millions  " ;  and  an  invasion  of  England  itself  was 
planned  on  a  gigantic  scale.  A  camp  of  one  hundred  thousand 
men  was  formed  at  Boulogne,  and  a  host  of  flat-bottomed  boats 
gathered  for  their  conveyance  across  the  Channel.  The  peril  of 
the  nation  forced  Addington  from  office  and  recalled  Pitt  to  power. 
His  health  was  broken,  and  as  the  days  went  by  his  appearance 
became  so  haggard  and  depressed  that  it  was  plain  death  was  draw* 


X   I 


MODERN  ENGLAND 


821 


ing  near.  But  dying  as  he  really  was,  the  nation  clung  to  him  with 
all  its  old  faith.  He  was  still  the  representative  of  national  union  ; 
and  he  proposed  to  include  Fox  and  the  leading  Whigs  in  his  new 
ministry,  but  he  was  foiled  by  the  bigotry  of  the  King  ;  and  the  refusal 
of  Lord  Grenville  and  of  Windham  to  take  office  without  Fox,  as  well 
as  the  loss  of  his  post  at  a  later  time  by  his  ablest  supporter,  Dundas, 
left  him  almost  alone.  But  lonely  as  he  was,  he  faced  difficulty  and 
danger  with  the  same  courage  as  of  old.  The  invasion  seemed  immi- 
nent when  Buonaparte,  who  now  assumed  the  title  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon,  appeared  in  the  camp  at  Boulogne.  "  Let  us  be  masters  of 
the  Channel  for  six  hours,"  he  is  reported  to  have  said,  ''  and  we  are 
masters  of  the  world."  A  skilfully  combined  plan  by  which  the  British 
fleet  would  have  been  divided,  while  the  whole  French  navy  was  con- 
centrated in  the  Channel,,  was  delayed  by  the  death  of  the  admiral 
destined  to  execute  it.  But  the  alliance  with  Spain  placed  the  Spanish 
fleet  at  Napoleon's  disposal,  and  in  1805  he  planned  its  union  with 
that  of  France,  the  crushing  of  the  squadron  which  blocked  the  ports 
of  the  Channel  before  the  English  ships  which  were  watching  the 
Spanish  armament  could  come  to  its  support,  and  a  crossing  of  the 
vast  armament  thus  protected  to  the  English  shore.  The  three  hun- 
dred thousand  volunteers  mustered  in  England  to  meet  the  coming 
attack  would  have  offered  small  hindrance  to  the  veterans  of  the  Grand 
Army,  had  they  once  crossed  the  Channel.  But  Pitt  had  already  found 
work  for  France  elsewhere.  The  alarm  of  the  Continental  Powers 
had  been  brought  to  a  head  by  Napoleon's  annexation  of  Genoa; 
Pitt's  subsidies  had  removed  the  last  obstacle  in  the  way  of  a  league  ; 
and  Russia,  Austria,  and  Sweden  joined  in  an  alliance  to  wrest  Italy 
and  the  Low  Countries  from  the  grasp  of  the  French  Emperor. 
Napoleon  meanwhile  swept  the  sea  in  vain  for  a  glimpse  of  the 
great  armament  whose  assembly  in  the  Channel  he  had  so  skilfully 
planned.  Admiral  Villeneuve,  uniting  the  Spanish  ships  with  his 
own  squadron  from  Toulon,  drew  Nelson  in  pursuit  to  the  West 
Indies,  and  then,  suddenly  returning  to  Cadiz,  hastened  to  form  a 
junction  with  the  French  squadron  at  Brest  and  crush  the  English 
fleet  in  the  Channel.  But  a  headlong  pursuit  brought  Nelson  up  with 
him  ere  the  manoeuvre  was  complete,  and  the  two  fleets  met  on  the 
2 1st  of  October,  1805,  off  Cape  Trafalgar.  "England,"  ran  Nelson's 
famous  signal,  "  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty  ;  "  and  though  he 
fell  himself  in  the  hour  of  victory,  twenty  French  sail  had  struck  their 
flag  ere  the  day  was  done.  "  England  has  saved  herself  by  her  courage,'* 
Pitt  said  in  what  were  destined  to  be  his  last  public  words  :  "  she  will 
save  Europe  by  her  example  !  "  But  even  before  the  victory  of  Trafalgar 
Napoleon  had  abandoned  the  dream  of  invading  England  to  meet  the 
coalition  in  his  rear  ;  and  swinging  round  his  forces  on  the  Danube  he 
forced  an  Austrian  army  to  capitulation  in  Ulm  three  days  before  his 


833 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[CHAP 


naval  defeat.  From  Ulm  he  marched  on  Vienna,  and  crushed  the 
combined  armies  of  Austria  and  Russia  in  the  battle  of  Austerlitz. 
**AusterlitZj"  Wilberforce  wrote  in  his  diary, "killed  Pitt."  Though  he 
was  still  but  forty-seven,  the  hollow  voice  and  wasted  frame  of  the  great 
Minister  had  long  told  that  death  was  near  ;  and  the  blow  to  his  hopes 
proved  fatal  *'  Roll  up  that  map,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  map  of  Europe 
which  hung  upon  the  wall :  "  it  will  not  be  wanted  these  ten  years  !  ^ 
Once  only  he  rallied  from  stupor  ;  and  those  who  bent  over  him  caught 
a  faint  murmur  of*'  My  country  !  How  I  leave  my  country  ! "  On  the 
23rd  of  January,  1806,  he  breathed  his  last  ;  and  was  laid  in  West- 
minster Abbey  in  the  grave  of  Chatham.  "  What  grave,"  exclaimed 
Lord  Wellesley,  "contains  such  a  father  and  such  a  son  !  What 
sepulchre  embosoms  the  remains  of  so  much  human  excellence  and 
glory  ! " 

So  great  was  felt  to  be  the  loss  that  nothing  but  the  union  of  parties, 
which  Pitt  had  in  vain  desired  during  his  lifetime,  could  fill  up  the  gap 
left  by  his  death.  In  the  new  Ministry  Fox,  with  the  small  body  of 
popular  Whigs  who  were  bent  on  peace  and  internal  reform,  united 
with  the  aristocratic  Whigs  under  Lord  Grenville  and  with  the  Tories 
under  Lord  Sidmouth.  All  home  questions  in  fact  were  subordinated 
to  the  need  of  saving  Europe  from  the  ambition  of  France,  and  in  the 
resolve  to  save  Europe,  Fox  was  as  resolute  as  Pitt  himself.  His  hopes 
of  peace,  indeed,  were  stronger  ;  but  they  were  foiled  by  the  evasive 
answer  which  Napoleon  gave  to  his  overtures,  and  by  a  new  war 
which  he  undertook  against  Prussia,  the  one  power  which  seemed  able 
to  resist  his  arms.  On  the  14th  of  October,  1806,  a  decisive  victory 
at  Jena  laid  North  Germany  at  Napoleon's  feet.  Death  only  a  month 
before  saved  ^ox  from  witnessing  the  overthrow  of  his  hopes  ;  and  his 
loss  weakened  the  Grenville  Cabinet  at  the  opening  of  a  new  and 
more  desperate  struggle  with  France.  Napoleon's  earlier  attempt  at 
the  enforcement  of  a  Continental  System  had  broken  down  with  the 
failure  of  the  Northern  League;  but  in  his  mastery  of  Europe  he 
now  saw  a  more  effective  means  of  realizing  his  dream  ;  and  he  was 
able  to  find  a  pretext  for  his  new  attack  in  England's  own  action.  By 
a  violent  stretch  of  her  rights  as  a  combatant  she  had  declared  the 
whole  coast  occupied  by  France  and  its  allies,  from  Dantzig  to  Trieste^ 
to  be  in  a  state  of  blockade  It  was  impossible  to  enforce  such  a 
**  paper  blockade,"  even  with  the  immense  force  at  her  disposal ;  and 
Napoleon  seized  on  the  opportunity  to  retaliate  by  the  entire  exclu- 
sion f  British  commerce  from  the  Continent,  an  exclusion  which  he 
trusted  would  end  the  war  by  the  ruin  it  would  bring  on  the  English 
manufacturers.  A  decree  was  issued  from  Berlin  which — without  a 
single  ship  to  carry  it  out — placed  the  British  Islands  in  a  state  of 
blockade.  All  commerce  or  communication  with  them  was  prohibited  ; 
all  English  goods  or  manufactures  found  in  the  territory  of  France  01 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


823 


its  allies  were  declared  liable  to  confiscation  ;  and  their  harbours  were 
closed,  not  only  against  vessels  coming  from  Britain,  but  against  all 
who  had  touched  at  her  ports.  The  attempt  to  enforce  such  a 
system  was  foiled  indeed  by  the  rise  of  a  widespread  contraband 
trade,  by  the  reluctance  of  Holland  to  aid  in  its  own  ruin,  by  the 
connivance  of  officials  along  the  Prussian  and  Russian  shores,  and  by 
the  pressure  of  facts.  It  was  impossible  even  for  Napoleon  himself 
to  do  without  the  goods  he  pretended  to  exclude  ;  an  immense  system 
of  licences  soon  neutralized  his  decree ;  and  the  French  army  which 
marched  to  Eylau  was  clad  in  great-coats  made  at  Leeds,  and  shod 
with  shoes  made  at  Northampton.  But  if  it  failed  to  destroy  British 
industry,  it  told  far  more  fatally  on  British  commerce.  Trade  began 
to  move  from  English  vessels,  which  were  subject  to  instant  confis- 
cation, and  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  neutrals,  and  especially  of  the 
Americans.  The  merchant  class  called  on  the  Government  to  protect 
it,  and  it  was  to  this  appeal  that  the  Grenville  Ministry  replied  in 
January,  1807,  by  an  Order  in  Council  which  declared  all  the  ports  of 
the  coast  of  France  and  her  allies  under  blockade,  and  any  neutral 
vessels  trading  between  them  to  be  good  prize.  Such  a  step  was  far 
from  satisfying  the  British  merchants.  But  their  appeal  was  no  longer 
to  Lord  Grenville.  The  forces  of  ignorance  and  bigotry  which  had 
been  too  strong  for  Pitt  were  too  strong  for  the  Grenville  Ministry. 
Its  greatest  work,  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade,  in  February,  was 
done  in  the  teeth  of  a  vigorous  opposition  from  the  Tories  and  the 
merchants  of  Liverpool ;  and  in  March  the  first  indication  of  its  desire 
to  open  the  question  of  religious  equality  by  allowing  Catholic  officers 
to  serve  in  the  army  was  met  on  the  part  of  the  King  by  the  demand 
of  a  pledge  not  to  meddle  with  the  question.  On  the  refusal  of  this 
pledge  the  Ministry  was  dismissed. 

Its  fall  was  the  final  close  of  the  union  of  parties  brought  about 
by  the  peril  of  French  invasion  ;  and  from  this  time  to  the  end  of 
the  war  England  was  wholly  governed  by  the  Tories.  The  nominal 
head  of  the  Ministry  which  succeeded  that  of  Lord  Grenville  was 
the  Duke  of  Portland  ;  its  guiding  spirit  was  the  Foreign  Secretar)^, 
George  Canning,  a  young  and  devoted  adherent  of  Pitt,  whose 
brilliant  rhetoric  gave  him  power  over  the  House  of  Commons, 
while  the  vigour  and  breadth  o''  his  mind  gave  a  new  energy  and 
colour  to  the  war.  At  no  time  had  opposition  to  Napoleon  seemed 
so  hopeless.  From  Berlin  the  Emperor  marched  into  the  heart 
of  Poland,  and  though  checked  in  the  winter  by  the  Russian  forces 
in  the  hard-fought  battle  of  Eylau,  his  victory  of  Friedland  brought 
the  Czar  Alexander  in  the  summer  of  1807  to  consent  to  the 
Peace  of  Tilsit.  From  foes  the  two  Emperors  of  Western  and 
Eastern  Europe  became  friends,  and  the  hope  of  French  aid  in 
the  conquest  of  Turkey  drew  Alexander  to   a  close   alliance  with 


824 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


Napoleon.  Russia  not  only  enforced  the  Berlin  decrees  against 
British  commerce,  but  forced  Sweden,  the  one  ally  that  England  still 
retained  on  the  Continent,  to  renounce  her  alliance.  The  Russian 
and  Swedish  fleets  were  thus  placed  at  the  service  of  France  ;  and  the 
two  Emperors  counted  on  securing  the  fleet  of  Denmark,  and  again 
threatening  by  this  union  the  maritime  supremacy  which  formed 
England's  real  defence.  The  hope  was  foiled  by  the  appearance  off 
Elsinore  in  July  1807  of  an  expedition,  promptly  and  secretly  equipped 
by  Canning,  with  a  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  Danish  fleet  into 
the  hands  of  England,  on  pledge  of  its  return  at  the  close  of  the  war. 
On  the  refusal  of  the  Danes  the  demand  was  enforced  by  a  bombard- 
ment of  Copenhagen  ;  and  the  whole  Danish  fleet,  with  a  vast  mass  of 
naval  stores,  was  carried  into  British  ports.  It  was  in  the  same  spirit 
of  almost  reckless  decision  that  Canning  turned  to  meet  Napoleon's 
Continental  System.  In  November  he  issued  fresh  Orders  in  Council. 
By  these  France,  and  every  Continental  state  from  which  the  British 
flag  was  excluded,  was  put  in  a  state  of  blockade,  and  all  vessels  bound 
for  their  harbours  were  held  subject  to  seizure  unless  they  had  touched 
at  a  British  port.  The  orders  were  at  once  met  by  another  decree  of 
Napoleon  issued  at  Milan  in  December,  which  declared  every  vessel, 
of  whatever  nation,  coming  from  or  bound  to  Britain  or  any  British 
colony,  to  have  forfeited  its  character  as  a  neutral,  and  to  be  liable  to 
seizure. 

Meanwhile  the  effect  of  the  Continental  System  upon  Napoleon  was 
to  drive  him  to  aggression  after  aggression  in  order  to  maintain  the 
material  union  of  Europe  against  Britain.  He  was  absolutely  master 
of  Western  Europe,  and  its  whole  face  changed  a^  at  an  enchanter's 
touch.  Prussia  was  occupied  by  French  troops.  Holland  was  changed 
into  a  monarchy  by  a  simple  decree  of  the  French  Emperor,  and  its 
crown  bestowed  on  his  brother  Louis.  .Another  brother,  Jerome, 
became  King  of  Westphalia,  a  new  realm  built  up  out  of  the  Electo- 
rates of  Hesse  Cassel  and  Hanover.  A  third  brother,  Joseph,  was 
made  King  of  Naples  ;  while  the  rest  of  Italy,  and  even  Rome  itself, 
was  annexed  to  the  French  Empire.  It  was  the  hope  of  effectually 
crushing  the  world  power  of  Britain  which  drove  him  to  his  worst  aggres- 
sion, the  aggression  upon  Spain.  He  acted  with  his  usual  subtlety. 
In  October  1807  France  and  Spain  agreed  to  divide  Portugal  between 
them  ;  and  on  the  advance  of  their  forces  the  reigning  House  of 
Braganza  fled  helplessly  from  Lisbon  to  a  refuge  in  Brazil.  But  the 
seizure  of  Portugal  was  only  a  prelude  to  the  seizure  of  Spain.  Charles 
the  Fourth,  whom  a  riot  in  his  capital  drove  at  this  moment  to  abdica- 
tion, and  his  son,  Ferdinand  the  Seventh,  were  drawn  to  Bayonne  m 
May,  1808,  and  forced  to  resign  their  claims  to  the  Spanish  crown  ;  while 
a  French  army  entered  Madrid  and  proclaimed  Joseph  Buonaparte  King 
of  Spain.  But  this  high-handed  act  of  aggression  was  hardly  completed 


xj 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


8*5 


when  Spain  rose  as  one  man  against  the  stranger  ;  and  desperate  as 
the  effort  of  its  people  seemed,  the  news  of  the  rising  was  welcomed 
throughout  England  with  a  burst  of  enthusiastic  joy.  "  Hitherto," cried 
Sheridan,  a  leader  of  the  Whig  opposition,  "Buonaparte  has  contended 
with  princes  without  dignity,  numbers  without  ardour,  or  peoples  with- 
out patriotism.  He  has  yet  to  learn  what  it  is  to  combat  a  people  who 
are  animated  by  one  spirit  against  him."  Tory  and  Whig  alike  held 
that  "  never  had  so  happy  an  opportunity  existed  in  Britain  to  strike  a 
bold  stroke  for  the  rescue  of  the  world ; "  and  Canning  at  once  resolved 
to  change  the  system  of  desultory  descents  on  colonies  and  sugar 
islands  for  a  vigorous  warfare  in  the  Peninsula.  Supplies  were  sent  to 
the  Spanish  insurgents  with  reckless  profusion,  and  two  small  armies 
placed  under  the  command  of  Sir  John  Moore  and  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley 
for  service  in  the  Peninsula,  In  July  1808  the  surrender  at  Baylen  of 
a  French  force  which  had  invaded  Andalusia  gave  the  first  shock  to 
the  power  of  Napoleon,  and  the  blow  was  followed  by  one  almost  as 
severe.  Landing  at  the  Mondego  with  fifteen  thousand  men,  Sir  Arthur 
Wellesley  drove  the  French  army  of  Portugal  from  the  field  of  Vimiera, 
and  forced  it  to  surrender  in  the  Convention  of  Cintra  on  the  30th  of 
August.  But  the  tide  of  success  was  soon  roughly  turned.  Napoleon 
appeared  in  Spain  with  an  army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men  ;  and 
Moore,  who  had  advanced  from  Lisbon  to  Salamanca  to  support  the 
Spanish  armies,  found  them  crushed  on  the  Ebro,  and  was  driven  to 
fall  hastily  back  on  the  coast.  His  force  saved  its  honour  in  a  battle 
before  Corunna,  which  enabled  it  to  embark  in  safety  ;  but  elsewhere 
all  seemed  lost.  The  whole  of  northern  and  central  Spain  was  held  by 
the  French  armies  ;  and  even  Zaragoza,  which  had  once  heroically 
repulsed  them,  submitted  after  a  second  equally  desperate  resistance. 

The  landing  of  the  wreck  of  Moore's  army  and  the  news  of  the 
Spanish  defeats  turned  the  temper  of  England  from  the  wildest  hope 
to  the  deepest  despair  ;  but  Canning  remained  unmoved.  On  the  day 
of  the  evacuation  of  Corunna  he  signed  a  treaty  of  alliance  with  the 
Spanish  Junta  at  Cadiz  ;  and  the  English  force  at  Lisbon,  which  had 
already  prepared  to  leave  Portugal,  was  reinforced  with  thirteen  thou- 
sand fresh  troops  and  placed  under  the  command  of  Sir  Arthur 
Wellesley  "  Portugal,"  Wellesley  wrote  coolly,  "  may  be  defended 
against  any  force  which  the  French  can  bring  against  it."  At  this 
critical  moment  the  best  of  the  French  troops  with  the  Emperor  himself 
were  drawn  from  the  Peninsula  to  the  Danube  ;  for  the  Spanish  rising 
had  roused  Austria  as  well  as  England  to  a  renewal  of  the  struggle. 
When  Marshal  Soult  therefore  threatened  Lisbon  from  the  north, 
Wellesley  marched  boldly  against  him,  drove  him  from  Oporto  in  a 
disastrous  retreat,  and  suddenly  changing  his  line  of  operations, 
pushed  with  twenty  thousand  men  by  Abrantes  on  Madrid.  He  was 
joined  on  the  march  by  a  Spanish  force  of  thirty  thousand  men  ;  and 


Sec.  IV, 

The 

War  with 

France 

1793 

TO 

1815 

The  rising 
of  Spain 


Jan.  16, 
1809 


Wellesle; 


b26 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[chap 


a  bloody  action  with  a  French  army  of  equal  force  at  Talavera  in 
July,  1809,  restored  the  renown  of  English  arms.  The  losses  on  both 
sides  were  enormous,  and  the  French  fell  back  at  the  close  of  the 
struggle  ;  but  the  fruits  of  the  victory  were  lost  by  a  sudden  appear- 
ance of  Soult  on  the  English  line  of  advance,  and  Wellesley  was  forced 
to  retreat  hastily  on  Badajoz.  His  failure  was  embittered  by  heavier 
disasters  elsewhere.  Austria  was  driven  to  sue  for  peace  by  Napoleon's 
victory  at  Wagram  ;  and  a  force  of  forty  thousand  English  soldiers 
which  had  been  despatched  against  Antwerp  returned  home  baffled 
after  losing  half  its  numbers  in  the  marshes  of  Walcheren. 

The  failure  at  Walcheren  brought  about  the  fall  of  the  Portland 
Ministry.  Canning  attributed  the  disaster  to  the  incompetence  of 
Lord  Castlereagh,  an  Irish  peer  who  after  taking  the  chief  part  in 
bringing  about  the  union  between  England  and  Ireland  had  been 
raised  by  the  Duke  of  Portland  to  the  post  of  Secretary  at  War  ;  and 
the  quarrel  between  the  two  Ministers  ended  in  a  duel,  and  in  their 
resignation  of  their  offices.  The  Duke  of  Portland  retired  with 
Canning ;  and  a  new  ministry  was  formed  out  of  the  more  Tory 
members  of  the  late  administration  under  the  guidance  of  Spencer 
Perceval,  an  industrious  mediocrity  of  the  narrowest  type  ;  the  Marquis 
of  Wellesley,  a  brother  of  the  English  general  in  Spain,  becoming  Foreign 
Secretary.  But  if  Perceval  and  his  colleagues  possessed  few  of  the 
higher  qualities  of  statesmanship,  they  had  one  characteristic  which 
in  the  actual  position  of  English  affairs  was  beyond  all  price.  They 
were  resolute  to  continue  the  war.  In  the  nation  at  large  the  fit  of 
enthusiasm  had  been  followed  by  a  fit  of  despair ;  and  the  City  of 
London  even  petitioned  for  a  withdrawal  of  the  English  forces  from 
the  Peninsula.  Napoleon  seemed  irresistible,  and  now  that  Austria 
was  crushed  and  England  stood  alone  in  opposition  to  him,  the 
Emperor  resolved  to  put  an  end  to  the  strife  by  a  vigorous  prosecution 
of  the  war  in  Spain.  Andalusia,  the  one  province  which  remained 
independent,  was  invaded  in  the  opening  of  18 10,  and  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Cadiz  reduced  to  submission  ;  while  Marshal  Massena  with  a  fine 
army  of  eighty  thousand  men  marched  upon  Lisbon.  Even  Perceval 
abandoned  all  hope  of  preserving  a  hold  on  the  Peninsula  in  face  of 
these  new  efforts,  and  threw  on  Wellesley,  who  had  been  raised  to  the 
peerage  as  Lord  Wellington  after  Talavera,  the  responsibility  of  re- 
solving to  remain  there.  But  the  cool  judgement  and  firm  temper 
which  distinguished  Wellington  enabled  him  to  face  a  responsibility 
from  which  weaker  men  would  have  shrunk.  "  I  conceive,"  he  an- 
swered, "  that  the  honour  and  interest  of  our  country  require  that  we 
should  hold  our  ground  here  as  long  as  possible  ;  and,  please  God,  I 
will  maintain  it  as  long  as  I  can."  By  the  addition  of  Portuguese 
troops  who  had  been  trained  under  British  officers,  his  army  was  now 
raised  to  fifty  thousand  men  ;  and  though  his  inferiority  in  force  com- 


<] 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


827 


pelled  him  to  look  on  while  Massena  reduced  the  frontier  fortresses 
of  Ciudad  Rodrigo  and  Almeida,  he  inflicted  on  him  a  heavy  check  at 
the  heights  of  Busaco,  and  finally  fell  back  in  October,  18 10,  on  three 
lines  of  defence  which  he  had  secretly  constructed  at  Torres  Vedras, 
along  a  chain  of  mountain  heights  crowned  with  redoubts  and  bristling 
with  cannon.  The  position  was  impregnable  ;  and  able  and  stubborn 
as  Massena  was  he  found  himself  forced  after  a  month's  fruitless 
efforts  to  fall  back  in  a  masterly  retreat ;  but  so  terrible  were  the 
privations  of  the  French  army  in  passing  again  through  the  wasted 
country  that  it  was  only  with  forty  thousand  men  that  he  reached 
Ciudad  Rodrigo  in  the  spring  of  181 1.  Reinforced  by  fresh  troops, 
Massena  turned  fiercely  to  the  relief  of  Almeida,  which  Wellington 
had  besieged ;  but  two  days'  bloody  and  obstinate  fighting  in  May, 
181 1,  failed  to  drive  the  English  army  from  its  position  at  Fuentes 
d'Onore,  and  the  Marshal  fell  back  on  Salamanca  and  relinquished 
his  effort  to  drive  Wellington  from  Portugal. 

Great  as  was  the  effect  of  Torres  Vedras  in  restoring  the  spirit  of 
the  English  people  and  in  reviving  throughout  Europe  the  hope  of 
resistance  to  the  tyranny  of  Napoleon,  its  immediate  result  was  little 
save  the  deliverance  of  Portugal.  The  French  remained  masters  of 
all  Spain  save  Cadiz  and  the  eastern  provinces,  and  even  the  east 
coast  was  reduced  in  181 1  by  the  vigour  of  General  Suchet  While 
England  thus  failed  to  rescue  Spain  from  the  aggression  of  Napoleon, 
she  was  suddenly  brought  face  to  face  with  the  result  of  her  own 
aggression  in  America.  The  Orders  in  Council  with  which  Canning 
had  attempted  to  prevent  the  transfer  of  the  carrying  trade  from 
English  to  neutral  ships,  by  compelling  all  vessels  on  their  way  to 
ports  under  blockade  to  touch  at  British  harbours,  had  at  once  created 
serious  embarrassments  with  America.  In  the  long  strife  between 
France  and  England,  America  had  already  borne  much  from  both 
combatants,  but  above  all  from  Britain.  Not  only  had  the  English 
Government  exercized  its  right  of  search,  but  it  asserted  a  right  of 
seizing  English  seamen  found  in  American  vessels  ;  and  as  there  were 
few  means  of  discriminating  between  English  seamen  and  American, 
the  sailor  of  Maine  or  Massachusetts  was  often  impressed  to  serve 
in  the  British  fleet.  Galled  however  as  was  America  by  outrages 
such  as  these,  she  was  hindered  from  resenting  them  by  her  strong 
disinclination  to  war,  as  well  as  by  the  profit  which  she  drew  from  the 
maintenance  of  her  neutral  position.  But  the  Orders  in  Council  and 
the  Milan  Decree  forced  her  into  action,  and  she  at  once  answered 
them  by  an  embargo  of  trade  with  Europe.  After  a  year's  trial, 
however,  America  found  it  impossible  to  maintain  the  embargo  ;  and 
at  the  opening  of  1809  she  exchanged  the  embargo  for  an  Act  of 
Non-Intercourse  with  France  and  England  alone.  But  the  Act  was 
equally   ineffective.      The  American  Government   was   utterly  with- 


828 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAF. 


out  means  of  enforcing  it  on  its  land  frontier  ;  and  it  had  small 
means  of  enforcing  it  at  sea.  Vessels  sailed  daily  for  British  ports  ; 
and  at  last  the  Non- Intercourse  Act  was  repealed  altogether. 
All  that  America  persisted  in  maintaining  was  an  offer  that  if 
either  Power  would  repeal  its  edicts,  it  would  prohibit  American 
commerce  with  the  other.  Napoleon  seized  on  this  offer,  and  after 
promising  to  revoke  his  Berlin  and  Milan  Decrees  he  called  on 
America  to  redeem  her  pledge.  In  February  1811,  therefore,  the 
United  States  announced  that  all  intercourse  with  Great  Britain  and 
her  dependencies  was  at  an  end.  The  effect  of  this  step  was  seen  in 
a  reduction  of  English  exports  during  this  year  by  a  third  of  their 
whole  amount.  I.  was  in  vain  that  Britain  pleaded  that  the 
Emperor's  promises  remained  unfulfilled,  and  that  the  enforcement  of 
non-intercourse  with  England  was  thus  an  unjust  act,  and  an  act  of 
hostility.  The  pressure  of  the  American  policy,  as  well  as  news  of  the 
warlike  temper  which  had  at  last  grown  up  in  the  United  States,  made 
submission  inevitable  ;  for  the  industrial  state  of  England  was  now  so 
critical  that  to  expose  it  to  fresh  shocks  was  to  court  the  very  ruin 
which  Napoleon  had  planned. 

During  the  earlier  years  of  the  war  indeed  the  increase  of  wealth 
had  been  enormous.  England  was  sole  mistress  of  the  seas.  The 
war  gave  her  possession  of  the  colonies  of  Spain,  of  Holland,  and 
of  France  ;  and  if  her  trade  was  checked  for  a  time  by  the  Berlin 
Decree,  the  efforts  of  Napoleon  were  soon  rendered  fruitless  by  the 
vast  snuggling  system  which  sprang  up  along  the  southern  coasts 
and  the  coast  of  North  Germany.  English  exports  had  nearly 
doubled  since  the  opening  of  the  century.  Manufactures  profited 
by  the  discoveries  of  Watt  and  Arkwright ;  and  the  consumption  of 
raw  cotton  in  the  mills  of  Lancashire  rose  during  the  same  period 
from  fifty  to  a  hundred  millions  of  pounds.  The  vast  accumula- 
tion of  capital,  as  well  as  the  vast  increase  of  the  population  at  this 
time,  told  upon  the  land,  and  forced  agriculture  into  a  feverish  and 
unhealthy  prosperity.  Wheat  rose  to  famine  prices,  and  the  value  of 
land  rose  in  proportion  with  the  price  of  wheat.  Inclosures  went  on 
with  prodigious  rapidity  ;  the  income  of  every  landowner  was  doubled, 
while  the  farmers  were  able  to  introduce  improvements  into  the  pro- 
cesses of  {igriculture  which  changed  the  whole  face  of  the  country. 
But  if  the  increase  of  wealth  was  enormous,  its  distribution  was  partial. 
During  the  fifteen  years  which  preceded  Waterloo,  the  number  of  the 
population  rose  from  ten  to  thirteen  millions,  and  this  rapid  increase 
kept  down  the  rate  of  wages,  which  would  naturally  have  advanced  in 
a  corresponding  degree  with  the  increase  in  the  national  wealth.  Even 
manufactures,  though  destined  in  the  long  run  to  benefit  the  labouring 
classes,  seemed  at  first  rather  to  depress  them  ;  for  one  of  the  earliest 
results  of  the  introdui  tion  of  machinery  was  the  ruin  of  a  number  of 


X.1 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


829 


small  trades  which  were  carried  on  at  home,  and  the  pauperization  of 
families  who  relied  on  them  for  support.  In  the  winter  of  1 81 1  the  ter- 
rible pressure  of  this  transition  from  handicraft  to  machinery  was  seen 
in  the  Luddite,  or  machine-breaking,  riots  which  broke  out  over  the 
northern  and  midland  counties  ;  and  which  were  only  suppressed  by 
military  force.  While  labour  was  thus  thrown  out  of  its  older  grooves, 
and  the  rate  of  wages  kept  down  at  an  artificially  low  figure  by  the 
rapid  increase  of  population,  the  rise  in  the  price  of  wheat,  which  brought 
wealth  to  the  landowner  and  the  farmer,  brought  famine  and  death  to 
the  poor,  for  England  was  cut  off  by  the  war  from  the  vast  corn-fields 
of  the  Continent  or  of  America,  which  now-a-days  redress  from  their 
abundance  the  results  of  a  bad  harvest.  Scarcity  was  followed  by  a 
terrible  pauperization  of  the  labouring  classes.  The  amount  of  the 
poor-rate  rose  fifty  per  cent. ;  and  with  the  increase  of  poverty  followed 
its  inevitable  result,  the  increase  of  crime. 

The  natural  relation  of  trade  and  commerce  to  the  general  wealth  of 
the  people  at  large  was  thus  disturbed  by  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  the  lime.  The  war  enriched  the  landowner,  the  farmer,  the  mer- 
chant, the  manufacturer  ;  but  it  impoverished  the  poor.  It  is  indeed 
from  these  fatal  years  which  lie  between  the  Peace  of  Luneville  and 
Waterloo  that  we  must  date  that  war  of  classes,  that  social  severance 
between  employers  and  employed,  which  still  forms  the  main  difficulty 
of  English  politics.  But  it  is  from  these  years  too  that  we  must  date  the 
renewal  of  that  progressive  movement  in  politics  which  had  been  sus- 
pended since  the  opening  of  the  war.  The  publication  of  the  Edinburgh 
Review  in  1802  by  a  knot  of  young  lawyers  at  Edinburgh  marked  a 
revival  of  the  policy  of  constitutional  and  administrative  progress  which 
had  been  reluctantly  abandoned  by  William  Pitt.  Jeremy  Benthamgave 
a  new  vigour  to  political  speculation  by  his  advocacy  of  the  doctrine 
of  Utility,  and  his  definition  of  "  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number"  as  the  aim  of  political  action.  In  1809  Sir  Francis  Burdett 
revived  the  question  of  Parliamentary  Reform.  Only  fifteen  members 
supported  his  motion  ;  and  a  reference  to  the  House  of  Commons,  in  a 
pamphlet  which  he  subsequently  published,  as  "  a  part  of  our  fellow-sub- 
jects collected  together  by  means  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  describe  " 
was  met  by  his  committal  to  the  Tower,  where  he  remained  till  the 
prorogation  of  the  Parliament.  A  far  greater  effect  was  produced  by 
the  perseverance  with  which  Canning  pressed  year  by  year  the  question 
of  Catholic  Emancipation.  So  long  as  Perceval  lived  both  efforts  at 
Reform  were  equally  vain  ;  but  on  the  accession  of  Lord  Liverpool  to 
power  the  advancing  strength  of  a  more  liberal  sentiment  in  the  nation 
was  felt  by  the  policy  of  "  moderate  concession  "  which  was  adopted  by 
the  new  ministry.  Catholic  Emancipation  became  an  open  question  in 
the  Cabinet  itself,  and  was  adopted  in  181 2  by  a  triumphant  majority 
in  txle  House  of  Commons,  though  still  rejected  by  the  Lords. 


830 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


[chap. 


With  social  and  political  troubles  thus  awaking  about  them,  even 
Tory  statesmen  were  not  willing  to  face  the  terrible  consequences  of  a 
ruin  of  English  industry,  such  as  might  follow  from  the  junction  of 
America  with  Napoleon.  They  were,  in  fact,  preparing  to  withdraw 
the  Orders  in  Council  when  their  plans  were  arrested  by  the  dissolution 
of  the  Perceval  Ministry.  Its  position  had  from  the  first  been  a  weak 
one.  A  return  of  the  King's  madness  had  made  it  necessary  in  the 
beginning  of  181 1  to  confer  the  Regency  by  Act  of  Parliament  on  the 
Prince  of  Wales  ;  and  the  Whig  sympathies  of  the  Prince  threatened 
the  Perceval  Cabinet  with  dismissal.  The  insecurity  of  their  position 
told  on  the  conduct  of  the  war  ;  for  the  apparent  inactivity  of  Welling- 
ton during  181 1  was  really  due  to  the  hesitation  and  timidity  of  the 
ministers  at  home.  In  May,  181 2,  the  assassination  of  Perceval  by  a 
maniac  named  Bellingham  brought  about  the  fall  of  his  ministry  ; 
and  fresh  efforts  were  made  by  the  Regent  to  install  the  Whigs  in 
office.  Mutual  distrust  however  foiled  his  attempts  ;  and  the  old 
ministry  was  restored  under  the  headship  of  Lord  Liverpool,  a 
man  of  no  great  abilities,  but  temperate,  well  informed,  and  endowed 
with  a  remarkable  skill  in  holding  discordant  colleagues  together. 
The  most  important  of  these  colleagues  was  Lord  Castlereagh,  who 
became  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs.  His  first  work  was  to  meet  the 
danger  in  which  Canning  had  involved  the  country  by  his  Orders  in 
Council.  At  the  opening  of  181 2  America,  in  despair  of  redress,  had 
resolved  on  war  ;  Congress  voted  an  increase  of  both  army  and  navy, 
and  laid  an  embargo  on  all  vessels  in  American  harbours.  Actual 
hostilities  might  still  have  been  averted  by  the  repeal  of  the  Orders, 
on  which  the  English  Cabinet  was  resolved,  but  in  the  confusion  which 
followed  the  murder  of  Perceval  the  opportunity  was  lost.  On  the  23rd 
of  June,  only  twelve  days  after  the  Ministry  had  been  formed,  the 
Orders  were  repealed  ;  but  when  the  news  of  the  repeal  reached 
America,  it  came  six  weeks  too  late.  On  the  i8th  of  June  an  Act  of 
Congress  had  declared  America  at  war  with  Great  Britain. 

Th«  moment  when  America  entered  into  the  great  struggle  was  a 
critical  moment  in  the  history  of  mankind.  Si.x  days  after  President 
Madison  issued  his  declaration  of  war,  Napoleon  crossed  the  Niemen 
on  his  march  to  Moscow.  Successful  as  his  policy  had  been  in  stirring 
up  war  between  England  and  America,  it  had  been  no  less  successful 
in  breaking  the  alliance  which  he  had  made  with  the  Emperor 
Alexander  at  Tilsit  and  in  forcing  on  a  contest  with  Russia.  On  the' 
one  hand,  Napoleon  was  irritated  by  the  refusal  of  Russia  to  enforce 
strictly  the  suspension  of  all  trade  with  England,  though  such  a  sus- 
pension would  have  ruined  the  Russian  landowners.  On  the  other, 
the  Czar  saw  with  growing  anxiety  the  advance  of  the  French  Empire 
which  sprang  from  Napoleon's  resolve  to  enforce  his  system  bv  a 
seizure  of  the  northern  coasts.     In  181 1  Holland,  the  Hanseatic  towns, 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


831 


pais^  of  Westphalia,  and  the  Duchy  of  Oldenburg  were  successively 
annexed,  and  the  Duchy  of  Mecklenburg  threatened  with  seizure.  A 
peremptory  demand  on  the  part  of  France  for  the  entire  cessation  of 
intercourse  with  England  brought  the  quarrel  to  a  head ;  and  prepara- 
tions were  made  on  both  sides  for  a  gigantic  struggle.  The  best  of 
the  French  soldiers  were  drawn  from  Spain  to  the  frontier  of  Poland  ; 
and  Wellington,  whose  army  had  been  raised  to  a  force  of  forty 
thousand  Englishmen  and  twenty  thousand  Portuguese,  profited  by  the 
withdrawal  to  throw  off  his  system  of  defence  and  to  assume  an  atti- 
tude of  attack.  Ciudad  Rodrigo  and  Badajoz  were  taken  by  storm 
during  the  spring  of  181 2  ;  and  three  days  before  Napoleon  crossed  the 
Niemen  in  his  march  on  Moscow,  Wellington  crossed  the  Agueda  in 
a  march  on  Salamanca.  After  a  series  of  masterly  movements  on 
both  sides,  Marmont  with  the  French  army  of  the  North  attacked  the 
English  on  the  hills  in  the  neighbourhood  of  that  town.  While 
he  was  marching  round  the  right  of  the  English  position,  his  left  wing 
remained  isolated  ;  and  with  a  sudden  exclamation  of  ''  Marmont  is 
lost ! "  Wellington  flung  on  it  the  bulk  of  his  force,  crushed  it,  and  drove 
the  whole  army  from  the  field.  The  loss  on  either  side  was  nearly 
equal,  but  failure  had  demoralized  the  French  army  ;  and  its  retreat 
forced  Joseph  to  leave  Madrid,  and  Soult  to  evacuate  Andalusia  and  to 
concentrate  the  southern  army  on  the  eastern  coast.  While  Napoleon 
was  still  pushing  slowly  over  the  vast  plains  of  Poland,  Wellington 
made  his  entry  into  Madrid  in  August,  and  began  the  siege  of  Burgos. 
The  town  however  held  out  gallantly  for  a  month,  till  the  advance  of 
the  two  French  armies,  now  concentrated  in  the  north  and  south  of 
Spain,  forced  Wellington  in  October  to  a  hasty  retreat  on  the 
Portuguese  frontier.  If  he  had  shaken  the  rule  of  the  French  in 
Spain  in  this  campaign,  his  ultimate  failure  showed  how  firm 
a  military  hold  they  still  possessed  there.  But  the  disappointment 
was  forgotten  in  the  news  which  followed  it.  At  the  moment  when  the 
English  troops  fell  back  from  Burgos  began  the  retreat  of  the  Grand 
Army  from  Moscow.  Victorious  in  a  battle  at  Borodino,  Napoleon 
had  entered  the  older  capital  of  Russia  in  triumph,  and  waited  im- 
patiently to  receive  proposals  of  peace  from  the  Czar,  when  a  fire 
kindled  by  its  own  inhabitants  reduced  the  city  to  ashes.  The  French 
army  was  forced  to  fall  back  amidst  the  horrors  of  a  Russian  winter. 
Of  the  four  hundred  thousand  combatants  who  formed  the  Grand 
Army  at  its  first  outset,  only  a  few  thousand  recrossed  the  Niemen  in 
December. 

In  spite  of  the  gigantic  efforts  which  Napoleon  made  to  repair  the 
loss  of  the  Grand  Army,  the  spell  which  he  had  cast  over  Europe  was 
broken  by  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  Prussia  rose  against  him  as  the 
Russians  crossed  the  Niemen  in  the  spring  of  181 3  ;  and  the  forces 
which  held  it  were   at  once  thrown  back  on  the  Elbe.      In   this. 


S.?2 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CIIAI» 


emergency  the  military  genius  of  the  French  Emperor  rose  to  ita 
height.  With  a  fresh  army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men  whom  iie 
had  gathered  at  Mainz  he  marched  on  the  allied  armies  of  Russia  ana 
Prussia  in  May,  cleared  Saxony  by  a  victory  over  them  at  Lutzen,  and 
threw  them  back  on  the  Oder  by  a  fresh  victory  at  Bautzen.  Dis- 
heartened by  defeat,  and  by  the  neutral  attitude  which  Austria  still 
preserved,  the  two  powers  consented  in  June  to  an  armistice,  and 
negotiated  for  peace.  But  Austria,  though  unwilling  to  utterly  ruin 
France  to  the  profit  of  her  great  rival  in  the  East,  was  as  resolute  as 
either  of  the  allies  to  wrest  from  Napoleon  his  supremacy  over  Europe  ; 
and  at  the  moment  when  it  became  clear  that  Napoleon  was  only  bent 
on  playing  with  her  proposals,  she  was  stirred  to  action  by  news  that 
his  army  was  at  last  driven  from  Spain.  WelHngton  had  left  Portugal 
in  May  with  an  army  which  had  now  risen  to  ninety  thousand  men  ; 
and  overtaking  the  French  forces  in  retreat  at  Vitoria  he  inflicted  on 
them  a  defeat  which  drove  them  in  utter  rout  across  the  Pyrenees. 
Madrid  was  at  once  evacuated  ;  and  Clauzel  fell  back  from  Zaragoza 
into  France.  The  victory  not  only  freed  Spain  from  its  invaders  ;  it 
restored  the  spirit  of  the  Allies.  The  close  of  the  armistice  was 
followed  by  a  union  of  Austria  with  the  forces  of  Prussia  and  the  Czar  ; 
and  in  October  a  final  overthrow  of  Napoleon  at  Leipzig  forced  the 
French  army  to  fall  back  in  rout  across  the  Rhine.  The  war  now 
hurried  to  its  close.  Though  held  at  bay  for  a  while  by  the  sieges  of 
San  Sebastian  and  Pampeluna,  as  well  as  by  an  obstinate  defence  of 
the  Pyrenees,  Wellington  succeeded  in  the  very  month  of  the  triumph 
at  Leipzig  in  winning  a  victory  on  the  Bidassoa,  which  enabled  him 
to  enter  France.  He  was  soon  followed  by  the  Allies.  On  the  last 
day  of  1 813  their  forces  crossed  the  Rhine;  and  a  third  of  France 
passed,  without  opposition,  into  their  hands.  For  two  months  more 
Napoleon  maintained  a  wonderful  struggle  with  a  handful  of  raw 
conscripts  against  their  overwhelming  numbers ;  while  in  the  south, 
Soult,  forced  from  his  entrenched  camp  near  Bayonne  and  defeated  at 
Orthes,  fell  back  before  Wellington  on  Toulouse.  Here  their  two 
armies  met  in  April  in  a  stubborn  and  indecisive  engagement.  But 
though  neither  leader  knew  it,  the  war  was  even  then  at  an  e":d.  Th  j 
struggle  of  Napoleon  himself  had  ended  at  the  close  of  March  with  the 
surrender  of  Paris  ;  and  the  submissi  )n  of  the  capital  was  at  once 
followed  by  the  abdication  of  the  Emperor  and  the  return  of  the 
Bourbons. 

England's  triumph  over  its  enemy  was  dashed  by  the  more  doubtful 
fortunes  of  the  struggle  across  the  Atlantic.  The  declaration  of  war 
by  America  seemed  an  act  of  sheer  madness  ;  for  its  navy  consisted  of 
a  few  frigates  and  sloops  ;  its  army  was  a  mass  of  half-drilled  and  half- 
armed  recruits  ;  while  the  States  themselves  were  divided  on  the 
question  of  the  war,  and  Connecticut  with  Massachusetts  refused  to 


X} 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


833 


send  either  money  or  men.  Three  attempts  to  penetrate  into  Canada 
during  the  summer  and  autumn  were  repulsed  with  heavy  loss.  But 
these  failures  were  more  than  redeemed  by  unexpected  successes  at 
sea.  In  two  successive  engagements  between  English  and  American 
frigates,  the  former  were  forced  to  stri!<e  their  flag.  The  effect  of  these 
victories  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  their  real  importance  ;  for  they 
were  the  first  heavy  blows  which  had  been  dealt  at  England's  supre- 
macy over  the  seas.  In  181 3  America  followed  up  its  naval  triumphs 
by  more  vigorous  efforts  on  land.  Its  forces  cleared  Lake  Ontario, 
captured  Toronto,  destroyed  the  British  flotilla  on  Lake  Erie,  and 
made  themselves  masters  of  Upper  Canada.  An  attack  on  Lower 
Canada,  however,  was  successfully  beaten  back  ;  and  a  fresh  advance 
of  the  British  and  Canadian  forces  in  the  heart  of  the  winter  again 
recovered  the  Upper  Province.  The  reverse  gave  fresh  strength  to 
the  party  in  the  United  States  which  had  throughout  been  opposed 
to  the  war,  aixd  whose  opposition  to  it  had  been  embittered  by  the 
terrible  distress  brought  about  by  the  blockade  and  the  ruin  of 
American  commerce.  Cries  of  secession  began  to  be  heard,  and 
Massachusetts  took  the  bold  step  of  appointing  delegates  to  confer 
with  delegates  from  the  other  New, England  States  "on  the  subject  of 
their  grievance^  and  common  concerns."  In  1814,  however,  the  war 
was  renewed  with  more  vigour  than  ever  ;  and  Upper  Canada  was  again 
invaded.  But  the  American  army,  after  inflicting  a  severe  defeat  on 
the  British  forces  in  the  battle  of  Chippewa  in  July,  was  itself  defeated 
a  few  weeks  after  in  an  equally  stubborn  engagement,  and  thrown  back 
on  its  own  frontier;  while  the  fall  of  Napoleon  enabled  the  English 
Government  to  devote  its  whole  strength  to  the  struggle  with  an  enemy 
which  it  had  ceased  to  despise.  General  Ross,  with  a  force  of  four 
thousand  men,  appeared  in  the  Potomac,  captured  Washington,  and 
before  evacuating  the  city  burnt  its  public  buildmgs  to  the  ground. 
Few  more  shameful  acts  are  recorded  in  our  history  ;  and  it  was  the 
more  shameful  in  that  it  was  done  under  strict  orders  from  the 
Government  at  home.  The  raid  upon  Washington,  however,  was  in- 
tended simply  to  strike  terror  into  the  American  people  ;  and  the  rea} 
stress  of  the  war  was  thrown  on  two  expeditions  whose  business  was 
to  penetrate  into  the  States  from  the  north  and  from  the  south.  Both 
proved  utter  failures.  A  force  of  nine  thousand  Peninsular  veterans 
which  marched  in  September  to  the  attack  of  Plattsburg  on  Lake 
Champlain  was  forced  to  fall  back  by  the  defeat  of  the  English  flotilla 
which  accompanied  it.  A  second  force  under  General  Packenham 
appeared  in  December  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  and  attacked 
New  Orleans,  but  was  repulsed  by  General  Jackson  with  the  loss  of 
half  its  numbers.  Peace,  however,  had  already  been  concluded.  The 
close  of  the  French  war,  if  it  left  untouched  the  grounds  of  the  struggle, 
made  the  United  States  sensible  of  the  danger  of  pushing  it  further ; 

2  E 


Sec.  :v 

The 

War  with 

France 

1793 

TO 

1815 


»34 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHA*. 


Waterloo 


1815 


Britain  herself  was  anxious  for  peace  ;  and  the  warring  claims,  both  of 
England  and  America,  were  set  aside  in  silence  in  the  treaty  of  18 14. 
The  close  of  the  war  with  America  freed  England's  hands  at  a 
moment  when  the  reappearance  of  Napoleon  at  Paris  called  her  to  a 
new  and  final  struggle  with  France.  By  treaty  with  the  Allied  Powers 
Napoleon  had  been  suffered  to  retain  a  fragment  of  his  former  empire 
—the  island  of  Elba  off  the  coast  of  Tuscany  ;  and  from  Elba  he  had 
looked  on  at  the  quarrels  which  sprang  up  between  his  conquerors  as 
soon  as  they  gathered  at  Vienna  to  complete  the  settlement  of  Europe. 
The  most  formidable  of  these  quarrels  arose  from  the  claim  of  Prussia 
to  annex  Saxony,  and  that  of  Russia  to  annex  Poland  ;  but  their  union 
for  this  purpose  was  met  by  a  counter-league  of  England  and  Austria 
with  their  old  enemy  France,  whose  ambassador,  Talleyrand,  laboured 
vigorously  to  bring  the  question  to  an  issue  by  force  of  arms.  At  the 
moment,  however,  when  a  war  between  the  two  leagues  seemed  close 
at  hand,  Napoleon  quitted  Elba,  landed  on  the  coast  near  Cannes, 
and,  followed  only  by  a  thousand  of  his  guards,  marched  over  the 
mountains  of  Dauphind  upon  Grenoble  and  Lyons.  He  counted,  and 
counted  justly,  on  the  indifference  of  the  country  to  its  new  Bourbon 
rulers,  on  the  longing  of  the  army  for  a  fresh  struggle  which  should 
restore  its  glory,  and  above  all  on  the  spell  of  his  name  over  soldiers 
whom  he  had  so  often  led  to  victory.  In  twenty  days  from  his  land- 
ing he  reached  the  Tuileries  unopposed,  while  Lewis  the  Eighteenth 
fled  helplessly  to  Ghent.  But  whatever  hopes  he  had  drawn  from  the 
divisions  of  the  Allied  Powers  were  at  once  dispelled  by  their  resolute 
action  on  the  news  of  his  descent  upon  France.  Their  strife  was 
hushed  and  their  old  union  restored  by  the  consciousness  of  a  common 
danger.  An  engagement  to  supply  a  million  of  men  for  the  purposes  of 
the  war,  and  a  recall  of  their  armies  to  the  Rhine,  answered  Napoleon's 
efforts  to  open  negotiations  with  the  Powers.  England  furnished 
subsidies  to  the  amount  of  eleven  millions,  and  hastened  to  place  an 
army  on  the  frontier  of  the  Netherlands.  The  best  troops  of  the  force 
which  had  been  employed  in  the  Peninsula,  however,  were  still  across 
the  Atlantic  ;  ind  of  the  eighty  thousand  men  who  gathered  round 
Wellington  only  about  a  half  were  Englishmen,  the  rest  principally 
raw  levies  from  Belgium  and  Hanover.  The  Duke's  plan  was  to  unite 
with  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Prussians  under  Marshal 
Blucher  who  were  advancing  on  the  Lower  Rhine,  and  to  enter  France 
by  Mons  and  Namur,  while  the  forces  of  Austria  and  Russia  closed  in 
upon  Paris  by  way  of  Belfort  and  Elsass. 

But  Napoleon  had  thrown  aside  all  thought  of  a  merely  defensive 
war.  By  amazing  efforts  he  had  raised  an  army  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  men  in  the  few  months  since  his  arrival  in  Paris  ;  and 
in  the  opening  of  June  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  Frenchmen 
were  concentrated  on  the  Sambre  at  Charleroi,  while  Wellington's 


X.J 


MODERN  ENGLAND. 


«35 


troops  still  lay  in  cantonments  on  the  line  of  the  Scheldt  from  Ath  to 
Nivelle,  and  Blucher's  on  that  of  the  Meuse  from  Nivelle  to  Lidge. 
Both  the  allied  armies  hastened  to  unite  at  Quatre  Bras ;  but  their 
junction  was  already  impossible.  Blucher  with  eighty  thousand  men 
was  himself  attacked  by  Napoleon  at  Ligny,  and  after  a  desperate  con- 
test driven  back  with  terrible  loss  upon  Wavre.  On  the  same  day  Ney 
with  twenty  thousand  men,  and  an  equal  force  under  D'Erlon  in 
reserve,  appeared  before  Quatre  Bras,  where  as  yet  only  ten  thousand 
English  and  the  same  force  of  Belgian  troops  had  been  able  to 
assemble.  The  Belgians  broke  before  the  charges  of  the  French 
horse  ;  but  the  dogged  resistance  of  the  English  infantry  gave  time 
for  Wellington  to  bring  up  corps  after  corps,  till  at  the  close  of  the  day 
Ney  saw  himself  heavily  outnumbered,  and  withdrew  baffled  from  the 
field.  About  five  thousand  men  had  fallen  on  either  side  in  this  fierce 
engagement :  but  heavy  as  was  Wellington's  loss,  the  firmness  of  the 
English  army  had  already  done  much  to  foil  Napoleon's  effort  at 
breaking  through  the  line  of  the  Allies.  Blucher's  retreat  however 
left  the  English  flank  uncovered  ;  and  on  the  following  day,  while  the 
Prussians  were  falling  back  on  Wavre,  Wellington  with  nearly  seventy 
thousand  men — for  his  army  was  now  well  in  hand — withdrew  in  good 
order  upon  Waterloo,  followed  by  the  mass  of  the  French  forces  under 
the  Emperor  himself.  Napoleon  had  detached  Marshal  Grouchy  with 
thirty  thousand  men  to  hang  upon  the  rear  of  the  beaten  Prussians, 
while  with  a  force  of  eighty  thousand  he  resolved  to  bring  Wellington 
to  battle.  On  the  morning  of  the  i8th  of  June  the  two  armies  faced 
one  another  on  the  field  of  Waterloo  in  front  of  the  Forest  of  Soignies, 
on  the  high  road  to  Brussels.  Napoleon's  one  fear  had  been  that  of 
a  continued  retreat.  "  I  have  them  ! "  he  cried,  as  he  saw  the  English 
line  drawn  up  on  a  low  rise  of  ground  which  stretched  across  the  high 
road  from  the  chateau  of  Hougomont  on  its  right  to  the  farm  and 
straggling  village  of  La  Haye  Sainte  on  its  left.  He  had  some  grounds 
for  his  confidence  of  success.  On  either  side  the  forces  numbered 
between  seventy  and  eighty  thousand  men :  but  the  French  were  superior! 
in  guns  and  cavalry,  and  a  large  part  of  Wellington's  force  consisted, 
of  Belgian  levies  who  broke  and  fled  at  the  outset  of  the  fight.  A 
fierce  attack  upon  Hougomont  opened  the  battle  at  eleven ;  but  it  was 
not  till  midday  that  the  corps  of  D'Erlon  advanced  upon  the  centre 
near  La  Haye  Sainte,  which  from  that  time  bore  the  main  brunt  of  the 
struggle.  Never  has  greater  courage,  whether  of  attack  or  endurance, 
been  shown  on  any  field  than  was  shown  by  both  combatants  at 
Waterloo.  The  columns  of  D'Erlon,  repulsed  by  the  English  foot,  were 
hurled  back  in  disorder  by  a  charge  of  the  Scots  Greys  ;  but  the 
victorious  horsemen  were  crushed  in  their  turn  by  the  French  cuiras- 
siers, and  the  mass  of  the  French  cavalry,  twelve  thousand  strong, 
flung  itself  in  charge  after  charge  on  the  English  front,  carrying  the 


836 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


[CHAP. 


English  guns  and  sweeping  with  desperate  bravery  round  the  unbroken 
squares  whose  fire  thinned  their  ranks.  With  almost  equal  bravery 
the  French  columns  of  the  centre  again  advanced,  wrested  at  last  the 
farm  of  La  Haye  Saintefrom  their  opponents,  and  pushed  on  vigorously 
though  in  vain  under  Ney  against  the  troops  in  its  rear.  But  mean- 
while every  hour  was  telling  against  Napoleon.  To  win  the  battle  he 
must  crush  the  English  army  before  Blucher  joined  it ;  and  the  English 
army  was  still  uncrushed.  Terrible  as  was  his  loss,  and  many  of  his 
regiments  were  reduced  to  a  mere  handful  of  men,  Wellington  stub- 
bornly held  his  ground  while  the  Prussians,  advancing  from  Wavre 
through  deep  and  miry  forest  roads,  were  slowly  gathering  to  his 
support,  disregarding  the  attack  on  their  rear  by  which  Grouchy  strove 
to  hold  them  back  from  the  field.  At  half-past  four  their  advanced 
guard  deployed  at  last  from  the  woods  ;  but  the  main  body  was  far 
behind,  and  Napoleon  was  still  able  to  hold  his  ground  against  them 
till  their  increasing  masses  forced  him  to  stake  all  on  a  desperate 
effort  against  the  English  front.  The  Imperial  Guard — his  only 
reserve,  and  which  had  as  yet  taken  no  part  in  the  battle — was  drawn 
up  at  seven  in  two  huge  columns  of  attack.  The  first,  with  Ney  him- 
self at  its  head,  swept  all  before  it  as  it  mounted  the  rise  beside  La 
Haye  Sainte,  on  which  the  ihin  English  line  still  held  its  ground,  and 
all  but  touched  the  English  front  when  its  mass,  torn  by  the  terrible 
fire  of  musketry  with  which  it  was  received,  gave  way  before  a  charge. 
The  second,  three  thousand  strong,  advanced  with  the  same  courage 
over  the  slope  near  Hougomont,  only  to  be  repulsed  and  shattered  in 
its  turn.  At  the  moment  when  these  masses  fell  slowly  and  doggedly 
back  down  the  fatal  rise,  the  Prussians  pushed  forward  on  Napoleon's 
right,  their  guns  swept  the  road  to  Charleroi,  and  Wellington  seized 
the  moment  for  a  general  advance.  From  that  hour  all  was  lost. 
Only  the  Guard  stood  firm  in  the  wreck  of  the  French  army ;  and 
though  darkness  and  exhaustion  checked  the  English  in  their  pursuit 
of  the  broken  troops  as  they  hurried  from  the  field,  the  Prussian  horse 
continued  the  chase  through  the  night.  Cnly  forty  thousand  French- 
men with  some  thirty  guns  recrossed  the  Sambre,  while  Napoleon 
himself  fled  hurriedly  to  Paris.  His  second  abdication  was  followed 
by  the  triumphant  entry  of  the  English  and  Prussian  armies  into 
the  French  capital ;  and  the  long  war  ended  with  his  exile  to  St. 
Helena,  and  the  return  of  Lewis  the  Eighteenth  to  the  throne  of  the 
Bourbons. 


EPILOGUE. 


«37 


EPILOGUE. 

With  the  victory  of  Waterloo  we  reach  a  time  within  the  memory  of 
some  now  living,  and  the  opening  of  a  period  of  our  history,  the 
greatest  indeed  of  all  in  real  importance  and  interest,  but  perhaps  too 
near  to  us  as  yet  to  admit  of  a  cool  and  purely  historical  treatment 
In  a  work  such  as  the  present  at  any  rate  it  will  be  advisable  to  limit 
ourselves  from  this  point  to  a  brief  summary  of  the  more  noteworthy 
events  which  have  occurred  in  our  political  history  since  1815. 

The  peace  which  closed  the  great  war  with  Napoleon  left  Britain 
feverish  and  exhausted.  Of  her  conquests  at  sea  she  retained  only 
Malta,  (whose  former  possessors,  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  had  ceased 
to  exist,)  the  Dutch  colonies  of  Ceylon,  and  the  Cipe  of  Good  Hope, 
the  French  Colony  of  Mauritius,  and  a  few  West  India  islands.  On 
the  other  hand  the  pressure  of  the  heavy  taxation  and  of  the  debt, 
which  now  reached  eight  hundred  millions,  was  embittered  by  the 
general  distress  of  the  country.  The  rapid  developement  of  English 
industry  for  a  time  ran  ahead  of  the  world's  demands  ;  the  markets  at 
home  and  abroad  were  glutted  with  unsaleable  goods,  and  mills  and 
manufactories  were  brought  to  a  standstill.  The  scarcity  caused  by  a 
series  of  bad  harvests  was  intensified  by  the  selfish  legislation  of  the 
landowners  in  Parliament.  Conscious  that  the  prosperity  of  English 
agriculture  was  merely  factitious,  and  rested  on  the  high  price  of  com 
produced  by  the  war,  they  prohibited  by  an  Act  passed  in  18 15  the 
introduction  of  foreign  corn  till  wheat  had  reached  famine  prices. 
Society,  too,  was  disturbed  by  the  great  changes  of  employment  con- 
sequent on  a  sudden  return  to  peace  after  twenty  years  of  war,  and 
by  the  disbanding  of  the  immense  forces  employed  at  sea  and  on  land. 
The  movement  against  machinery  which  had  been  put  down  in 
1 81 2  revived  in  formidable  riots,  and  the  distress  of  the  rural  poor 
brought  about  a  rapid  increase  of  crime.  The  steady  opposition 
too  of  the  Administration,  in  which  Lord  Castlereagh's  influence  was 
now  supreme,  to  any  project  of  political  progress  created  a  dangerous 
irritation  which  brought  to  the  front  men  whose  demand  of  a  "  radical 
reform"  in  English  institutions  won  them  the  name  of  Radicals,  and 
drove  more  violent  agitators  into  treasonable  disaffection  and  silly  plots. 
In  1819  the  breaking  up  by  military  force  of  a  meeting  at  Manchester, 
assembled  for  the  purpose  of  advocating  a  reform  in  Parliament, 
increased  the  unpopularity  of  the  Government ;  and  a  plot  of  some 
desperate  men  with  Arthur  Thistlewood  at  their  head  for  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  whole  Ministry,  which  is  known  as  the  Cato-Street 
Conspiracy,  threw  light  on  the  violent  temper  which  was  springing  up 


838 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE 


among  its  more  extreme  opponents.  The  death  of  George  the  Third 
in  1820,  and  the  accession  of  his  son  the  Prince  Regent  as  George  the 
Fourth,  only  added  to  the  general  disturbance  of  men's  minds.  The 
new  King  had  long  since  forsaken  his  wife  and  privately  charged  her 
with  infidelity  ;  his  first  act  on  mounting  the  throne  was  to  renew  his 
accusations  against  her,  and  to  lay  before  Parliament  a  bill  for  the 
dissolution  of  her  marriage  with  him.  The  public  agitation  which 
followed  on  this  step  at  last  forced  the  Ministry  to  abandon  the  bill, 
but  the  shame  of  the  royal  family  and  the  unpopularity  of  the  King 
increased  the  general  discontent  of  the  country. 

The  real  danger  to  public  order,  however,  lay  only  in  the  blind  oppo- 
sition to  all  political  change  which  confused  wise  and  moderate  projects 
of  reform  with  projects  of  revolution  ;  and  in  1822  the  suicide  of 
Lord  Castlereagh,  who  had  now  become  Marquis  of  Londonderry, 
and  to  whom  this  opposition  was  mainly  due,  put  an  end  to  the 
policy  of  mere  resistance.  Canning  became  Foreign  Secretary  in 
Castlereagh's  place,  and  with  Canning  returned  the  earlier  and  progres- 
sive policy  of  William  Pitt.  Abroad,  his  first  act  was  to  break  with 
the  "  Holy  Alliance,"  as  it  called  itself,  which  the  continental  courts 
had  formed  after  the  overthrow  of  Napoleon  for  the  repression  of 
revolutionary  or  liberal  movements  in  their  kingdoms,  and  whose 
despotic  policy  had  driven  Naples,  Spain,  and  Portugal  into  revolt. 
Canning  asserted  the  principle  of  non-interference  in  the  internal 
affairs  of  foreign  states,  a  principle  he  enforced  by  sending  troops  in 
1826  to  defend  Portugal  from  Spanish  intervention,  while  he  recognized 
the  revolted  colonies  of  Spain  in  South  America  and  Mexico  as  indepen- 
dent states.  At  home  his  influence  was  seen  in  the  new  strength  gained 
by  the  question  of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  in  the  passing  of  a  bill 
for  giving  relief  to  Roman  Catholics  through  the  House  of  Commons 
in  1825.  With  the  entry  of  his  friend  Mr.  Huskisson  into  office  in  1823 
began  a  commercial  policy  which  was  founded  on  a  conviction  of 
the  benefits  derived  from  freedom  of  trade,  and  which  brought  about 
at  a  later  time  the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws.  The  new  drift  of  public 
policy  produced  a  division  among  the  Ministers  which  showed  itself 
openly  at  Lord  Liverpool's  death  in  1827.  Canning  became  First  Lord 
of  the  Treasury,  but  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  with  the  Chancellor,  Lord 
Eldon,  and  the  Home  Secretary,  Mr.  Peel,  refused  to  serve  under  him  ; 
and  four  months  after  the  formation  of  Canning's  Ministry  it  was  broken 
tip  by  his  death.  A  temporary  Ministry  formed  under  Lord  Goderich 
on  Canning's  principles  was  at  once  weakened  by  the  position  of  foreign 
affairs.  A  revolt  of  the  Greeks  against  Turkey  had  now  lasted  some 
years  in  spite  of  Canning's  efforts  to  bring  about  peace,  and  the  de- 
spatch of  an  Egyptian  expedition  with  orders  to  devastate  the  Morea 
and  carry  off  its  inhabitants  as  slaves  forced  Engliand,  France,  and 
Russia  to  interfere.  In  1827  their  united  fleet  under  Admiral  Codrington 


EPILOGUE. 


839 


attacked  and  destroyed  that  of  Egypt  in  the  bay  of  Navarino  ;  but  the 
blow  at  Turkey  was  disapproved  by  English  opinion,  and  the  Ministry, 
already  wanting  in  Parliamentary  strength,  was  driven  to  resign. 

The  formation  of  a  purely  Tory  Ministry  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 

with  Mr.  Peel  for  its  principal  support  in  the  Commons,  was  generally 

looked  on  as  a  promise  of  utter  resistance  to  all  further  progress.     But 

the  state  of  Ireland,  where  a  "  Catholic  Association  "  formed  by  Daniel 

O'  Connell  maintained  a  growing  agitation,  had  now  reached  a  point 

when  the  English  Ministry  had  to  choose  between  concessions  and  civil 

war.     The  Duke  gave  way,  and  brought  in  a  bill  which,  like  that 

designed  by  Pitt,  admitted  Romati  Catholics  to  Parliament,  and  to  all 

but  a  few  of  the  highest  posts,  civil  or  military,  in  the  service  of  the 

Crown.     The  passing  of  this  bill  by  the  aid  of  the  Whigs  threv/  the 

Tory  party  into  confusion  ;  while  the  cry  for  Parliamentary  Reform 

was  suddenly  revived  with  a  strength  it  had  never  known  before  by  a 

Revolution  in  France,  which  drove  Charles  the  Tenth  from  the  throne 

and  called  his  cousin,  Louis  Philippe,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  to  reign  as 

a  Constitutional  King.     William  the  Fourth,  who  succeeded  to  the 

crown  on  the  death  of  his  brother,  George  the  Fourth,  at  this  moment 

was  favourable  to  the  demand  of  Reform,  but  Wellington  refused  all 

concession.     The  refusal   drove  him  from   office ;   and  for  the  first 

time  after  twenty  years  the  Whigs  saw  themselves  again  in  power 

under  the  leadership  of  Earl  Grey.     A  bill  for  Parliamentary  Reform, 

which  took  away  the  right  of  representation  from  fifty-six  decayed 

or  rotten  boroughs,  gave  the    143   members   it  gained  to   counties 

or    large    towns  which    as    yet    sent  no    members   to   Parliament, 

established  a  ;^io  householder  quahfication  for  voters  in  boroughs, 

and  extended  the  county  franchise  to  leaseholders  and  copyholders, 

was  laid  before   Parliament   in  183 1.      On  its  defeat  the   Ministry 

appealed  to  the   country.     The  new   House   of  Commons   at  once 

passed  the  bill,  and  so  terrible  was  the  agitation  produced  by  its 

rejection  by  the   Lords,   that   on   its   subsequent  reintroduction   the 

Peers  who   opposed    it  withdrew   and    suffered   it  to  become    law. 

The  Reformed  Parhament  which  met  in  1833  did  much  by  the  violence 

and  inexperience  of  many  of  its  new  members,  and  especially  by 

the  conduct   of  O'Connell,  to  produce  a  feeling  of  reaction  in  the 

country.     On  the  resignation  of  Lord  Grey  in  1834  the  Ministry  was 

reconstituted  under  the  leadership  of  Viscount  Melbourne  ;  and  though 

this  administration  was  soon  dismissed  by  the  King,  whose  sympathies 

had  now  veered  round  to  the  Tories,  and  succeeded  for  a  short  time 

by  a  Ministry  under  Sir  Robert  Peel,  a  general  election  again  returned 

a  Whig  Parliament,  and  replaced  Lord  Melbourne  in  office.  Weakened 

as  it  was  by  the  growing  change  of  political  feeling  throughout  the 

country,  no  Ministry  has  ever  wrought  greater  and  more  beneficial 

changes  than  the  Whig  Ministry  under  Lord  Grey  and  Lord  Melbourne 


Epilogue 


840 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


during  its  ten  years  of  rule.  In  1833  the  system  of  slavery  which  still 
existed  in  the  British  colonies,  though  the  Slave  Trade  was  suppressed, 
was  abolished  at  a  cost  of  twenty  millions  ;  the  commercial  monopoly 
of  the  East  India  Company  was  abolished,  and  the  trade  to  the  East 
thrown  open  to  all  merchants.  In  1834  the  growing  evil  of  pauperism 
was  checked  by  the  enactment  of  a  New  Poor  Law.  In  1835  the 
Municipal  Corporations  Act  restored  to  the  inhabitants  of  towns  those 
rights  of  self-government  of  which  they  had  been  deprived  since  the 
fourteenth  century.  1836  saw  the  passing  of  the  General  Registration 
Act,  while  the  constant  quarrels  over  tithe  were  remedied  by  the  Act 
for  Tithe  Commutation,  and  one  of*the  grievances  of  Dissenters  re- 
dressed by  a  measure  which  allowed  civil  marriage,  A  system  of 
national  education,  begun  in  1 834  by  a  small  annual  grant  towards  the 
erection  of  schools,  was  developed  in  1 839  by  the  creation  of  a  Committee 
of  the  Privy  Council  for  educational  purposes  and  by  the  steady  increase 
of  educational  grants. 

Great  however  as  these  measures  were,  the  difficulties  of  the  Whig 
Ministry  grew  steadily  year  by  year.  Ireland,  where  O'Connell 
maintained  an  incessant  agitation  for  the  Repeal  of  the  Union,  could 
only  be  held  down  by  Coercion  Acts.  In  spite  of  the  impulse  given 
to  trade  by  the  system  of  steam  communication  which  began  with  the 
opening  of  the  Liverpool  and  Manchester  Railway  in  1830,  the  country 
still  suffered  from  distress :  and  the  discontent  of  the  poorer  classes 
gave  rise  in  1 839  to  riotous  demands  for"  the  People's  Charter,'' including 
universal  suffrage,  vote  by  ballot,  annual  Parliament*;,  equal  electoral 
districts,  the  abolition  of  all  property  qualification  for  members,  and 
payment  for  their  services.  In  Canada  a  quarrel  between  the  two 
districts  of  Upper  and  Lower  Canada  was  suffered  through  misman- 
agement to  grow  into  a  formidable  revolt.  The  vigorous  but  meddle- 
some way  in  which  Lord  Palmerston,  a  disciple  of  Canning,  carried 
out  that  statesman's  foreign  policy,  supporting  Donna  Maria  as 
sovereign  in  Portugal  and  Isabella  as  Queen  in  Spain  against  claimants 
of  more  absolutist  tendencies  by  a  Quadruple  Alliance  with  France 
and  the  two  countries  of  the  Peninsula,  and  forcing  Mehemet  AH,  the 
Pacha  of  Egypt,  to  withdraw  from  an  attack  on  Turkey  by  the 
bombardment  of  Acre  in  1840,  created  general  uneasiness  ;  while 
the  public  conscience  was  wounded  by  a  war  with  China  in  1839  on  its 
refusal  to  allow  the  smuggling  of  opium  into  its  dominions.  A  more 
terrible  blow  was  given  to  the  Ministry  by  events  in  India  ;  where  the 
occupation  of  Cabul  in  1839  ended  two  years  later  in  a  general  revolt 
of  the  Affghans  and  in  the  loss  of  a  British  army  in  the  Khyber  Pass. 
The  strength  of  the  Government  was  restored  for  a  time  by  the  death 
of  William  the  Fourth  in  1837  and  the  accession  of  Victoria,  the 
daughter  of  his  brother  Edward,  Duke  of  Kent.  With  the  accession 
of  Queen  Victoria  ended  the  union  of  England  and  Hanover  under  the 


EPILOGUE 


b4i 


same  sovereigns,  the  latter  state  passing  to  the  next  male  heir,  Ernest, 
Duke  of  Cumberland.  But  the  Whig  hold  oi,  the  House  of  Commons 
passed  steadily  away^  and  a  general  election  in  1841  gave  their 
opponents,  who  now  took  the  name  of  Conservatives,  a  majority  of 
nearly  a  hundred  members.  The  general  confidence  in  Sir  Robert 
Peel,  who  was  placed  a."-,  the  head  of  the  Ministry  which  followed  that 
of  Lord  Melbourne,  en^^bled  him  to  deal  vigorously  with  two  of  the 
difficulties  which  had  most  hampered  his  predecessors.  The  disorder 
of  the  public  finances  was  repaired  by  the  repeal  of  a  host  of  oppressive 
and  useless  duties  and  by  thi  imposition  of  an  income  Tax.  In  Ire- 
land OConnell  was  charged  with  sedition  and  convicted,  and  though 
subsequently  released  from  prison  on  appeal  to  the  House  of  Lords,  his 
mfluence  received  a  shock  from  which  it  never  recovered.  Peace  was 
made  with  China  by  a  treaty  which  threw  open  some  of  its  ports  to 
traders  of  all  nations  ;  in  India  the  disaster  of  Cabul  was  avenged 
by  an  expedition  under  General  Pollock  which  penetrated  victoriously 
to  the  capital  of  that  country  in  1842,  and  the  province  of  Scmde  was 
annexed  to  the  British  dominions.  The  shock,  however,  to  the  Enghsh 
power  brought  about  fresh  struggles  for  supremacy  with  the  natives, 
and  especially  with  the  bikhs,  who  were  crushed  for  the  time  in  three 
great  battles  at  Moodkee,  Ferozeshah,  and  Sobraon. 

Successful  as  it  proved  itself  abroad,  the  Conservative  Government 
encountered  unexpected  difficulties  at  home.  From  the  enactment  of 
the  Corn  Laws  in  1815  a  dispute  had  constantly  gone  on  between  those 
who  advocated  these  and  similar  measures  as  a  protection  to  native 
industry  and  those  who,  viewing  them  as  simply  laying  a  tax  on  the 
consumer  for  the  benefit  of  the  producer,  claimed  entire  freedom 
of  trade  with  the  world.  In  1839  an  Anti-Corn-Law  League  had 
been  formed  to  enfor  e  the  views  of  the  advocates  of  free  trade  ; 
and  it  was  in  great  measure  the  alarm  of  the  farmers  and  landowners 
at  Ls  action  which  had  induced  them  to  give  so  vigorous  a  support  to 
Sir  Robert  Peel.  But  though  Peel  entered  office  pledged  to  protective 
measures,  his  own  mind  was  slowly  veering  round  to  a  conviction  of 
their  inexpediency  ;  and  in  1846  ihe  failure  of  the  potato  crop  in  Ireland 
and  01  the  harvest  in  England  forced  him  to  introduce  a  bill  for  the 
repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws.  The  bill  passed,  but  :he  resentment  of  hi£> 
own  party  soon  drove  him  from  c  ffice ;  and  he  was  succeeded  by  a 
Whig  Ministry  under  Lord  John  Russell  which  remained  in  power  till 
1852.  The  first  work  of  this  Ministry  was  to  carry  out  the  policy  of 
free  trade  into  every  department  of  British  commerce  ;  and  from  that 
time  to  this  the  maxim  of  the  League,  to  "  buy  in  the  cheapest  market 
and  sell  in  the  dearest,"  has  been  accepted  as  the  lav/  of  our  commer- 
cial policy.  Other  events  were  few.  The  general  overthr  w  of  the 
continental  monarchs  in  the  Revolution  of  1843  found  famt  echoes 
in  a  feeble  rising  in  Ireland  under  Smith  O'Brien  which  was  easily 

2    E* 


842 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


suppressed  by  a  few  policemen,  and  in  a  demonstration  of  the  Chartists 
in  London  which  passed  off  without  further  disturbance.  A  fresh  war 
with  the  Sikhs  in  1848  was  closed  by  the  victory  of  Goojerat  and  the 
annexation  of  the  Punjaub  in  the  following  year. 

The  long  peace  which  had  been  maintained  between  the  European 
powers  since  the  treaties  of  181 5  was  now  drawing  to  a  close.  In  1852 
the  Ministry  of  Lord  John  Russell  was  displaced  by  a  short  return  of 
the  Conservatives  to  power  under  Lord  Derby  ;  but  a  union  of  the 
Whigs  with  the  Fi  ee  Trade  followers  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  restored  them 
to  office  at  the  close  of  the  year.  Lord  Aberdeen,  the  head  of  the  new 
administration,  was  at  once  compelled  to  resist  the  attempts  of  Russia 
to  force  on  Turkey  a  humiliating  treaty  ;  and  in  1854  England  allied 
herself  with  Louis  Napoleon,  who  had  declared  himself  Emperor  of 
the  French,  to  resist  the  invasion  of  the  Danubian  Principalities  by  a 
Russian  army.  The  army  was  withdrawn  ;  but  in  September  the  allied 
force  landed  on  the  shores  of  the  Crimea,  and  after  a  victory  at  the 
river  Alma  undertook  the  siege  of  Sebastopol.  The  garrison  however 
soon  proved  as  strong  as  the  besiegers,  and  as  fresh  Russian  forces 
reached  the  Crimea  the  Allies  found  themselves  besieged  in  their  turn. 
An  attack  on  the  English  position  at  Inkermann  on  November  the  5th 
was  repulsed  with  the  aid  of  a  French  division  ;  but  winter  proved 
more  terrible  than  the  Russian  sword,  and  the  English  force  wasted 
away  with  cold  or  disease.  The  public  indignation  at  its  sufferings 
forced  the  Aberdeen  Ministry  from  office  in  the  opening  of  1855  ;  and 
Lord  Palmerston  became  Premier  with  a  Ministry  which  included 
those  members  of  the  last  administration  who  were  held  to  be  most  in 
earnest  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war.  After  a  siege  of  nearly  a  year 
the  Allies  at  last  became  masters  of  Sebastopol  in  September,  and 
Russia,  spent  with  the  strife,  consented  in  1856  to  the  Peace  of  Paris. 
The  military  reputation  of  England  had  fallen  low  during  the  struggle, 
and  to  this  cause  the  mutiny  of  the  native  troops  in  Bengal,  which 
quickly  followed  in  1857,  may  partly  be  attributed.  Russian  intrigues. 
Moslem  fanaticism,  resentment  at  the  annexation  of  the  kingdom  of 
Oudh  by  Lord  Dalhousie,  and  a  fanatical  belief  on  the  part  of  the 
Hindoos  that  the  English  Government  had  resolved  to  make  them 
Christians  by  forcing  them  to  lose  their  caste,  have  all  been  assigned 
as  causes  of  an  outbreak  which  still  remains  mysterious.  A  mutiny 
at  Meerut  in  May  was  followed  by  the  seizure  of  Delhi  where  the 
native  king  was  enthroned  as  Emperor  of  Hindostan,  by  a  fresh 
mutiny  and  massacre  of  the  Europeans  at  Cawnpore,  by  the  rising  of 
Oudh  and  the  siege  of  the  Residency  at  Lucknow.  The  number  of 
English  troopc  in  India  was  small,  and  for  the  moment  all  Eastern  and 
Central  Hindostan  seemed  lost ;  but  Madras,  Bombay,  and  the  Punjaub 
remained  untouched,  and  the  English  in  Bengal  and  Oudh  not  only  held 
their,  ground  but  marched  upon  Delhi,  and  in  September  took  the  town 


EPILOGUE. 


843 


by  storm.  Two  months  later  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  under  Sir 
Colin  Campbell  relieved  Lucknow,  which  had  been  saved  till  now  by 
the  heroic  advance  of  Sir  Henry  Havelock  with  a  handful  of  troops, 
and  cleared  Oudh  of  the  mutineers.  The  suppression  of  the  revolt  was 
followed  by  a  change  in  the  government  of  India,  which  was  transferred 
in  1858  from  the  Company  to  the  Crown ;  the  Queen  being  formally  pro- 
claimed its  sovereign,  and  the  Governor-General  becoming  her  Viceroy. 

The  credit  which  Lord  Palmerston  won  during  the  struggle  with 
Russia  and  the  Sepoys  was  shaken  by  his  conduct  in  proposing  an 
alteration  in  the  law  respecting  conspiracies  in  1858,  in  consequence 
of  an  attempt  to  assassinate  Napoleon  the  Third  which  was  believed 
to  have  originated  on  English  ground.  The  violent  language  of  the 
French  army  brought  about  a  movement  for  the  enlistment  of  a 
Volunteer  force,  which  soon  reached  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
men  ;  and  so  great  was  the  irritation  it  caused  that  the  bill,  which  was 
thought  to  have  been  introduced  in  deference  to  the  demands  of 
France,  was  rejected  by  the  House  of  Co  nmons.  Lord  Derby  again 
became  Prime  Minister  for  a  few  months  :  but  a  fresh  election  in 
1859  brought  back  Lord  Palmerston,  whose  Ministry  lasted  till  his 
death  in  1865.  At  home  his  pohcy  was  one  of  pure  inaction  ;  and  his 
whole  energy  was  directed  to  the  preservation  of  English  neutrality  in 
five  great  strifes  which  distracted  not  only  Europe  but  the  New  World, 
a  war  between  France  and  Austria  in  1859  which  ended  in  the  creation 
of  the  kingdom  of  Italy,  a  civil  war  in  America  which  began  with  the 
secession  of  thv.  Southern  States  in  1861  and  ended  four  years  later 
in  their  subugation,  an  insurrection  of  Poland  in  1863,  an  attack  of 
France  upon  Mexico,  and  of  Austria  and  Prussia  upon  Denmark  in 
1864.  The  American  war,  by  its  interference  with  the  supply  of 
cotton,  reduced  Lancashire  to  distress ;  while  the  fitting  out  of  piratical 
cruisers  in  English  harbours  in  the  name  of  the  Southern  Confederation 
gave  America  just  grounds  for  an  irritation  which  was  only  allayed  at 
a  far  later  time.  Peace  however,  was  successfully  preserved  ;  and  the 
policy  of  non-intervention  was  pursued  after  Lord  Palmerston' s  death 
by  his  successor,  Lord  Russell,  who  remained  neutral  during  the  brief 
but  decisive  conflict  between  Prussia  and  Austria  in  1866  which  trans- 
ferred to  the  former  the  headship  of  Germany. 

With  Lord  Palmerston,  however,  passed  away  the  policy  of  political 
inaction  which  distinguished  his  rule.  Lord  Russell  had  long  striven 
to  bring  about  a  further  reform  of  Parliament ;  and  in  1866  he  laid  a 
bill  for  that  purpose  before  the  House  of  Commons,  whose  rejection 
was  followed  by  the  resignation  of  the  Ministry.  Lord  Derby,  who 
again  became  Prime  Minister,  with  Mr.  Disraeli  as  leader  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  found  himself  however  driven  to  introduce  in  1867  a 
Reform  Bill  of  a  far  more  sweeping  character  than  that  which  had 
failed  in  Lord  Russell's  hands.     By  this  measure,  which  passed  in 


844 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE. 


August,  the  borough  franchise  was  extended  to  all  ratepayers,  as  well 
as  to  lodgers  occupying  rooms  of  the  annual  value  of  ;^io  ;  the  county 
franchise  was  fixed  at  ^12,  thirty-three  members  were  withdrawn  from 
English  boroughs,  twenty-five  of  whom  were  transferred  to  English 
counties,  and  the  rest  assigned  to  Scotland  and  Ireland.  Large 
numbers  of  the  working  classes  were  thus  added  to  the  constituencies; 
and  the  indirect  effect  of  this  great  measure  was  at  once  seen  in  the 
vigorous  policy  of  the  Parliament  which  assembled  after  the  new 
elections  in  1868.  Mr.  Disraeli,  who  had  become  Prime  Minister  on 
the  withdrawal  of  Lord  Derby,  retired  quietly  on  finding  that  a  Libera? 
majority  of  over  one  hundred  members  had  been  returned  to  the 
House  of  Commons  ;  and  his  place  was  taken  by  Mr.  Gladstone, 
at  the  head  of  a  Ministry  which  for  the  first  time  included  every 
section  of  the  Liberal  party.  A  succession  of  great  measures  proved 
the  strength  and  energy  of  the  new  administration.  Its  first  work  was 
with  Ireland,  whose  chronic  discontent  it  endeavoured  to  remove  by 
the  disestablishment  and  disendowment  of  the  Protestant  Church  in 
1869,  and  by  a  Lan  Bill  which  established  a  sort  of  tenant-right  in 
every  part  of  the  country  in  1870.  The  claims  of  the  Nonconformists 
were  met  in  1868  by  the  abolition  of  compulsory  church-rates,  and  in 
1 87 1  by  the  abolition  of  all  religious  tests  for  admission  to  offices  or 
degrees  in  the  Universities.  Important  reforms  were  undertaken  in 
the  management  of  the  navy  ;  and  a  plan  for  the  entire  reorganization 
of  the  army  was  carried  into  effect  after  the  system  of  promotion  to 
its  command  by  purchase  had  been  put  an  end  to.  In  1870  the  ques- 
tion of  national  education  was  furthered  by  a  bill  which  provided  for 
the  establishment  of  School  Boards  in  every  district,  and  for  their 
support  by  means  of  local  rates.  In  1872  a  fresh  step  in  Parliamentary 
reform  was  made  by  the  passing  of  a  measure  which  enabled  the  votes 
of  electors  to  be  given  in  secret  by  means  of  the  ballot.  The  great- 
ness and  rapidity  of  these  changes,  however,  produced  so  rapid  a 
reaction  in  the  minds  of  the  constituencies  that  on  the  failure  of  his 
attempt  to  pass  a  bill  for  organizing  the  higher  education  of  Ireland, 
Mr  Gladstone  felt  himself  forced  in  1874  to  consult  public  opinion 
by  a  dissolution  of  Parliament ;  and  the  return  of  a  Conservative 
majority  of  nearly  seventy  members  was  necessarily  followed  by  his 
retirement  from  office,  Mr.  Disraeli  again  becoming  First  Minister 
of  the  Crown. 


INDEX. 


ABBOof  FJeury,  58 

Abbot.  Arrhbishop  of  Canterbury,  471,  512 

Aoercorn,  see  of,  34,  36,  185 

Aberdeen,  harl  of,  842 

Abercromby,  General,  756,  819 

Aberffraw.  princes  of,  164,  167 

"  Abhorrers,"  657 

Aboukir,  battle  of.  819 

Aclea,  battle  c  f,  46 

Acre,  siege  (  f ,  811 

bombardment  of,  840 
Add.ngton's  Ministry,  818,  820 
Adelard  of  Bath,  132,  137 
y^llfheah,  Archbish  p  of  Canterbury,  62,  65 
iElfred,  King  of  Wessex,  47 

his  rule,  48 — 50 

character,  50,  51 

literary  work,  51,  52 

struggle  with  Canes,  48,  50,  53 

death,  53 

"  Sayings  of,"  121 
i^lfred,  the  i^tht- ling,  67 
^lle,  King^f  Deira,  18 
Mile,  King  of  the  South  Saxons,  11 
^thelbald.  King  of  Mercia,  38,  41 
.(¥>tSelberht,  King  of  Kent,  17—19 
JEthalHxd,  Lady  of  the  Mercians,  49,  54 
^thelfri  h.  King  of  Northumbria,  19,  20 
.^thelgifu,  mother-in-law  of  Eadwig,  57 
^thelred.  King  of  Mercia,  35  —37 
^thelred  the  First,  King  of  Wess-x,  46,  47 
^thelred  the  Unready,  King  of  Wessex,  61 

marriage,  62 

flight  to  Normandy,  zl>.,  78 

death,  65 
^the'red,  Ealdorman  of  Mercia,  49,  53,  54 
^thelric,  King  of  Bernicia,  13,  17 
^thelstan,  King  of  Wessex,  54,  55 
^thelthryth  (Eiheldreda),  S.,  33 
^thelwold,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  58 
iEthelwulf,  King  cf  Wessex,  46 
Afghanistan,  war  in,  840 
Agincourt,  battle  of,  268 
Agitators,  Council  (  f,  565 
Agriculture,  changes  in,  245 — 247,  292,  393 
Aldan,  S.,  24,  25 

Aislabie.  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  728 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  Peace  of,  637,  744 
Albemarle,  Stephen  <  f,  89 
Alberoni,  Cardinal,  726 
Alcluyd,  41 
Alcuin,  43 

Aldgate,  Priory  of  Holy  Trinity  at,  95 
Aldfrith  the  Learned,  King  of  Northumbria,  38 


Alexander  the  First,  Czar  of  Russia,  82-. 
Alexander  the  Third,  King  of  Scots,  tST 
Alien,  Dr.,  408,  409 
Alliance,  Grand,  684,  705 

H.Jy,  838 

Triple,  637,  726 

Quadruple,  840 
Alma,  battle  of,  842 
Almanza,  battle  of,  716 
Almeida,  siege  of,  827 
Alva,  Duke  of,  388,  389 

America,    English    settlements  in,     506,    746 
.  758,  759 

rivalry'  with  the  French,  747,  748,  755 — 75. 

religion  and  government,  759,  760 

relations  with  England,  760,  768 

struggle  for  self-taxatiin,  769,  776,  777 

Congress,  770,  778 — 780 

Declaration  of  Independence,  780 

alliance  wi  h  France,  781 

war  with  England,  779  —782,  785,  786 

embargo  and  non-.ntercourse,  827,  828 

war  with  England,  830,  832,  834 

civil  war,  843 

Spanish  settlements,  506 

their  trade  with  English,  733 
Amherst,  General,  755 — 757 
"Amiens,  Mise  of,  156 

Peace  of,  819 
Anderida,  11 
Andredsweald,  11 
Angeln,  i 

Anglesey  conquered  by  Eadwine,  21 
Anglia,  East,  settlement  of  the  Engle  in,  11 

submits  to  Penda,  22 

seized  by  Offa,  43 

Cf  nquered  by  Danes,  46,  47 

earldom  of,  65 
Anjou,  Duke  cf  suitor  of  Elizabeth,  414,  416 
Anjou,  C  untsof,  98 — ico 

Anne,  daughter  of  James  the  Second,  desert: 
hitn,  681 

her  relations  with  the  Marlbor  ,ughs,  695. 
707,  716 

Queen,  708 

her  Bounty,  712 

death,  720 
Anne  <;f  Bohemia,  wife  of  Richard  the  Second, 

263 
Anselm,  S.,  73,  74 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  90 

exiled,  id. 

recalled,  01 

supports  Henry  the  First,  96 


846 


INDEX. 


Anti-Corn  Law  League,  841 

Bacon,  Yr2ix\ds—continn4d. 

Appeal,  Henry  the  Seconu's  court  of,  iii 

fall,  490,  491 

Aquitaine,  loss  of,  233,  234 

death,  491 

Arcot,  Clive's  capture  <  f ,  7^6 

Bacon,  Roger,  137 — 141 

Argyll,    Earl    and    Marquis   of,    Presbyterian 

Badby,  John,  265 

leader,  541,  570,  572,  577 

Bacajoz  stor  ned,  831 

beheaded,  632,  664 
Argyll,   Earl  ofT  his  condemnation,    rebellion 

Badoii,  Mount,  battle  of,  12 

Baeda.  39-41 

and  death,  664,  665 

ytlfred's  translation  of,  52 

Aristotle,  study  of,  in  Middle  Ages,  135,  137. 

"  Balance  of  power,"  721 

138,  151 

Ball,  John,  240,  250—252 
Balliol,  Edward,  214,  216 

Arkwright  invents  spinning-machine,  792 

Arlington,  Bennet,  Earl  of  635 

Balliol,  John,  188-190 

forms  Triple  Alliance.  637 

Balmerino,  Earl  of,  744 
Baltimore,  Calvert,  Lord,  507 

share  in  Treaty  of  Dover,  638,  639 

dismissed.  646 

Bamborough,  13,  25 

Arlotta,  mother  of  William  the  Conqueror,  75 

Bancroft,  Archbi-hop  of  Canterbury,  471,  487 
Bangor,  monks  cf,  slain,  19,  20 

Armada,  Spanish,  418—420 

s-c  nd.  443—444 

Bank  of  England  founded,  699 

Arminians  or  Latitudinarians,  476 

Bann  ckburn,  battle  of,  213,  214 

Arms,  Assize  of,  1 10 

Bantry  Bay,  battle  in,  692 

Army,  standing,  its  origin,  633 

Baptists,  560 

increased  by  James  the  Second.  666 

Barbury  Hill,  battle  of,  12 

subject  to  c>-ntr()l  of  Parliament,  689 

Bards,  the  Welsh,  166 

purchase  in,  abolished,  844 

Barebones,  Praise-God,  58^ 

Army  PI  ^t,  539 

Barlow,  Bishop  of  St.  David's,  354 

Arthur,  romances  and  legends  of,  119,  120, 166 

Barnet,  battle  of.  288 

Arthur  of  Britanny,  115 

Barons,   their  relations  with   the   Conqueror 

Arthur,  so  i  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  311 

84,  85,  88 

Articles  of  Religion,  340 

with  Henry  the  First,  96 
with  Henry  the  Second,  109 

the  Six,  355 

repealed,  358 

with  John.  124,  126,  127 

Forty-two,  359 

council     of,     appointed    to    enforce    the 

Thirty-nine,  385 

Charter,  130 

Three,  471 

offer  the  cr»wn  to  Lewis,  ib. 

Artillery,  results  of  its  introduction,  301 

qu.irrel  wiih  Henry  the  Third,  154,  155 

Arundel,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  262,  263 

war  w.th  him,  156,  157 

Arundel,  Earl  of,  patron  of  Caxton,  298 
Arundel,  Earl  of.  Lord  Privy  Seal,  669 

greater  and  lesser,  174 

their  rule,  203 

Ascue.  Anne.  357 

struggle  with  F.dward  the  First,  203,  ao4 

Ashdown,  battle  of,  47 

effects  of  Hundred  Years'  War  on,  273,  874 

Ashley,  Lord,  see  Cooper 

their  decline,  290,  291 

opp  >ses  Act  of  I'niformity,  622 

Henry  the  Seventh's  dealings  with,  30a 
Northern,  rise  against  Elixabeth,  390 

heads  the  Presbyterians.  635                         * 

his  scheme  of  Pr  testant  comprehension.  636 

Barrier,  the  Dutch,  704 

terms  of  toleration,  630 
Chancellor,  640,  set  Shaftesbury 

Bartholomew's  Day,  S.,  massacre  of,  41a 

the  EngLsh,  6aa.  623 

.\ssandun,  battle  of,  65 

Basing  House,  siege  of,  558 
BasiilTe  destroyed,  798 

Asser,  51 

Ast>ize  of  Arms,  110 

Bates's  case,  484 

of  Clarendon,  lA,  xii 

Bath,  Henry  de,  145 

of  Northampton,  ixx 

Bautzen,  battle  of,  83a 

Astley,  Sir  Jacob,  559 

Baxter,  R. chard,  622,  625,  636.  670 

Athelney,  48,  « 

Baylen,  French  surrender  at,  825 

Athcnree,  battle  of,  447 

Atterbury,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  728 

Beachy  Head,  battle  of,  695 

Beai^fort,  Henrv,  hishop  ot  Winchester,  •73 

Cardinal,  280 

Aughrim,  battle  of,  694 

Augsburg,  leiy(ue  of,  677 

Beauf  rt,  Margaret,  set  Richmond 

August.ne,  his  mission  to  England,  »8,  19 

Beaufort,  house  of,  its  claims  to  the  Crown 

AuNterlitJt,  battle  of.  82a 

98a,  a83 
Beaumont,  palace  of,  133 

Austria  j  ins  the  Grand  Alliance,  684 

war  of  succession  in,  734 

Bee.  abbey  of,  7a 

policy  during  French  war,  799,  8oi,  811, 

Beckford,  Alderman.  751 

82T,  83a 

Bedford,  John,   Duke  of.   Regent  of  France, 

Aylesford,  battle  of,  9 

a75,  379,  a8o 
Bedford.  Otike  of,  minister  of  George  the  Third. 

766.  767,  77a 

Babincton's  Plot,  417 

Bedloe.  651 

Bacon,  Francis,  438—442 

his  plea  for  Church  reform,  477 

Beket,  Gilbert.  9a 

site  of  his  house,  xc^ 

INDEX. 


847 


Beket,  Thomas,  103,  104 

Chancellor,  xo6 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  ib. 

quarrel  w.th  Heniy  the  ScCund,  107,  108 

death,  108,  109 

canonized,  109 

desecration  of  his  Fhrine,  355 
Belesme.  Robert  <  f,  96,  164 
Bellahoe,  battle  of,  449 
Bellasys,  Lord,  669 
Benedict  Biscop,  29,  30,  39 
"  Benedict  <  f  Peterborough,"  iiB 
"  Benevolences"  under  t^dwardthe  Fourth,  293 

under  Wolsey,  325 

under  James  the  First,  486 
Bensington,  battle  of.  41 
Bentham,  Jeremy,  829 
Beorhtric.  King  of  Wessex,  42,  43 
Beornwulf,  King  uf  Mercia,  44 
Berni  ia.  kingdo  u  of,  13 

j  ;ined  with  Deira.  ib.,  17 
Bertha,  wife  of  ^thelberht  of  Kent,  17 
Berwick  stormed  by  Edward  the  First,  190 

taken  by  Bruce,  209 

its  peculiar  positi  n,  216 

pacifica.ion  at,  533 
Berwick,  Duke  of,  710,  716 
Beverley,  Alfred  of,  119 
Bible,  Wyclif's  translation  of,  244 

its  effect-,  259 

in  Bohemia.  263 

tran>lation  promised  by  Henry  the  Eighth, 

Tyndale's,  351,  352 

forbidden.  334 

Coverdale's,  341^ 

the  Geneva, forbidden,  510 

effects  of,  on  England,  460 — 462 
Bigod,  Hugh,  Earl  of  Norfolk,  154,  155 
Bigod,    Earl   of  Norfolk,   defies   Edward  the 

First,  206 
Birinus,  24 
Bishops,  mode  of  appointing,  338 

James  the  First's  theory  of,  479,  480 

expelled  from  House  of  Lords,  538 

restored,  621 

position  under  the  Georges,  735,  736 

the  Seven.  672 
Black  Death,  the,  248 
Blake  defends  '1  aunton,  576 

blockades  Rupert  in  the  Tagus,  ib. 

struggle  with  Tromp,  579.  580 

with  Spain,  593,  596 

his  corpse  outraged,  620 
Blenheim,  battle  of  711,  712 
Bloreheath,  battle  of,  283 
Blucher,  Marshal.  834  -836 
Bohemia,  effects  of  Wycl.fs  writings  in,  263 

struggle  against  Austria,  489 
Boleyn,  Anne,  328,  329,  337.  348 
Bolingbroke,  Vise  unt  (^see  St.  John),  718 

rivalry  With  Harley,  719 

joins  the  Pretender,  722 

returns,  732 
Bombay  ceded  ti  England,  628,  745 
Boniface,  S.  (Winfrith),  43 
Boniface  VIIL,  Pope,  192,  206 
Bonner,  Bishop  of  London,  362,  364,  366,  460 
Boi-n,  Bertrand  de,  113 
Borodino,  battle  of,  831 


Boroughbridge,  battle  of,  209 
Bor.ughs,  ea  ly  i:.nglis'i,  194 

their   representation    in    Parliament,    158, 
177    . 

restriction  of  franchise  in,  272 

changes  in  representation.  402 

new,  created  under  the  1  udors,  481 

the  Five,  49,  54 
Boscawen,  Admiral,  755 
Boston  (Line  Inshire)  its  foundation,  33 
Boston  (Massachusetts)    occupieU   by    British 
troops,  776 

tea-r.ots,  777 

port  closed,  ib. 

siege  of,  779,  780 
Bosworth,  bat  le  ot,  301 
Bothwell,  r.arl  of,  386—388 
Boiulf  founds  Bostcm,  33 
Boulogne,  Napoleon's  camp  at,  820 
Boulogne,  Eustace,  Count  of,  6^,  82 
Bouvines,  battle  of,  126 
Boyle,  che  nist,  611 
B  yne,  battle  of,  693 
"Boys,"  the,  732 
Braddock,  General,  747 
Bradford,  battle  of,  34 
Brad^haw,  John,  571,  581,  620 
Brandy  wine,  battle  cf,  780 
Breaute,  Fuukes  de,  142 
Breda,  Peace  of,  635 
Bremen,  dispu;e  about,  727 
Breslau,  Peace  cf,  741 
Bretigny,  treaty  of,  231 
Br.gham,  treaty  of,  188 
Brindley,  engineer,  792 
Brist>  1,  slave-trade  at,  59,  88 

siege  of,  549 

surrender,  550 
j  West  Indian  trade,  730 

■    Bristol,  Earl  of,  635 

Britain  under  the  Romans,  5,  6 

attacked  by  Picts  and  Scots,  6 

English  conquest  of,  7 — 13 
Britain,  Great,  714 
Britons,  exterm.nation  of,  9,  lo 

defeat  at  Daegsastan,  19 

end  of  their  dom.nioR,  43 
Brooklyn,  battle  of,  780 
Browne,  Archhishc  p  tf  Dublin,  452,  453 
Browne's  Pastorals,  526 
Browmsts,  472,  473,  507,  559,  560 
Bruce,  David,  215,  216,  228 
Bruce,  Edward,  447 
Bruce,  R  bert,  the  elder,  188,  192 
Bruce,  Robert,  the  yv^unger,  murders  Ccmyn, 

211,  2t2 

crowned,  212 

his  successes,  213,  214 

truce  w.th  Engbnd,  214 

acknowledged  king,  215 

dies,  ib. 
Brunanburh,  battle  of,  55 

Brunswick,  Ferdmand,  Prince  cf,  754,  755,  763 
Brunswick,  Duke  cf,  805 
Buckingham,  Duke  of,  beheaded,  324 
Buckingham,  George  Vil Hers, Duke  of,  487,  48S 

his  policy,  494,  495,  497 

impeached,  498 

expedition  to  Rochelle,  500,  501 

slain,  503 


INDEX. 


Buckingham,  second  Duke  of,  607,  610, 639 

nego  iates  with  Holland,  640 

dis.iiis->ed,  646 

imprisoned,  648 
Bulmer,  Lady,  burnt,  346 
Bunker's  Hill,  battle  if,  779 
Bunyan,  J   hn,  467,  "f^as — 627 

his  "Pilgrim's  Progress,"  627,  628 

released,  640 

refuses  Indulgence,  670 
Buonaparte,  J^.seph,  King  of  Naples  and  Spain, 

824,  Sji 
Buonaparte,  Napoleon,  808 

successes  in  Italy,  8^,9,  810 

in  Egypt,  810 

designs  on  Syia,8ii 

First  C')n<ul,  ib. 

victory  at  Marengo,  ib. 

Continental  Syste.ii,  818 

schemes  of  c  nque-t,  819,  B20 

Fiance  under  him.  820 

war  deciarei  auainst,  ib. 

thre'teis  invasion   of  England,  821  ;    see 
Nap  leon 
Burdef,  Sir  Krancis,  829 
Burf  rd,  battle  of,  38 
Biirg'i,  Hubert  de,  131,  141,  143, 144 
Burg)s,  siege  of,  831 
Bug  'yne.  Gene  al,  780,  781 
Burg  t,.dy,  Charles  t'le  Hold.  Duke  of,  287 
Burgundy,  J  )hn,  Di  ke  <  f,  270 
Bu-gunJy.  Philip,  Duke  of,  270,  275,  278,  280    ' 
Burke,  Ed  nund,  770— 772 

supports  A  neric.-xn  demands,  778 

h.s  Hill  (  f  Econ  mical  Ref  rm,  788 

moves  impeach  nent  (f  Hast.ngs.  796 

hostii.tyt   the  Rev  Iuti..n,  800—803,  805 

quarrel  wit'i  V  x,  8oj 

"  LetttTS  on  Regic.de  Peace,"  809 

death,  810 
Burleigh.  Lord,  417  ;  see  Cecil 
Ihi  ntt.  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  614,  691 
Bitsa  0,  b  Utie  of,  827 
Bute,  E.irl  of,  1(^1.  766.  767 

h.s  pol.ry  JH  America,  768,  769 
Bu'It,  Bi-i"np,  614 
Builer's  '■  Hii  libras,"  607 
Byng,  Admiral,  748 


'•rA»Ai.,"the,  6s3.  654 
C.ih  net,  its  origin,  654 
Cabof,  Sebas'ian,  303,  506 
Cabul  occupied,  840,  841 
Cale.  Tohn.  a3i.  28a 
C-idiz.  EngHs  1  descent  on,  443 

blockaded,  741 
Cadwall  n.  king  of  the  Welsh,  a?,  ii, 
raedmon,  37— ^9 
Calais,  siege  of,  by  Edwa-d  the  Third,  aaS,  220 

ceJea  to  him,  2ji 

lost.  369 
Cilcufta,  it-  origin,  745 

Blark  Hole  of,  753 
Calne,  council  of,  61 
Cambray,  Ic.-xgue  if,  311 

trea  y  if,  330 
Cambridge,  the  New  I  earning  at,  309 

Erasmus  at,  ih..  313 

Protestants  at,  35a 


Cambridge,  George,  Duke  of.  720 ;  see  George 

the  Second 
Camden,  399 
Campbell,  Sir  Colin,  843 
Campeggio,  Cardinal,  329 
Camperdown,  battle  of,  810 
Campian,  Jesuit.  409,  410 
Ca  npo  Fwrmio,  Treaty  of,  809 
Canada,  c  n^uest  of,  755—757 

ceded  by  France,  764 

Cunstitution  granted  to,  802 

Americ.iu  invasions  of,  833 

revolt  in,  840 
Canal-:,  7^2 
Canning,  George,  Foreign  Secretary,  823 

his  policy,  124,  825 

retires,  826 

supports  Cath'>lic  emancipation,  829 

return-;  to  orfice,  838 

death,  ib. 
Canons  of  1604,  482 

of  1636,  525 
Canterbury,  r  yal  city  of  Kt-nt,  17 

Augustine  at.  18 

I'heodore's  school  at,  39 

sacked  by  Danes,  62 

hist  ri.ins  cf,  118 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  won  by  England,  809 
Carlijian,  conquest  of,.  165 
Carli  le  conquered  by  Ecgfrith,  34 

Cuthbert  at,  35 
Carolinas,  their  settlement,  758 
Carvjline    of     Anspach,  wife    of    George     the 

Second.  730,  733 
Carteret,  L  ;rd,  7!i,  742 

Cnrihu-iaiiS,  viciimsof  T.  Cromwell,  344,  345 
Cartwright,  Thomas,   468 — 471,  473,  474 
Carucage,  129 
Cassel,  battle  if,  6t8 
Castlebar.  battle  <  f,  815 
Castlemaine,  LaJy.  640 
Castlereagh,  Lord,  817,  82^  830,  838 
Catesby,  Robert.  483 
Catharine  of  Aragon,  wife  of  Henry  the  Eighth. 

311,  328,  329.  337 
Cathanne   of  Braganza,  wife  of  Charles  the 

Serond.  634 
Catharine  of  France,  wife  of  Henry  the  Fifth, 

370 
Cathari  .e  the  Second,  Empress  of  Russia,  799. 

803 
Cathol.cs,  Roman,  their  position  under  Eliia- 
beih,  384,  385,  391 

revolt,  3/> 

revival.  ^08,  410,  475 

laws  against  t'icm  relaxed,  481 

priests  banished,  f>24 

prospects  under  Charles  the  Second,  634 

excluitd  f  om  Ind  Igence,  639,  640 

from  Court.  646,  647 

their  hopes  649-  ^^ 

excluded  from  P.-\rTiament,  651 

admitted    to    office,   &c.,   by  James    the 
Second, 667 

Confederate,  541,  551 

condition  tn  IreLand.  8tt,  8ta 

struggles  for  emai.cipation.  813,  817,  8t3| 
823.  838,  8:^9 
Cato  Street  conspiracy,  837 
••  Cavaliers,"  544 


INDEX. 


849 


Cavendish,  Lord,  641,  652,  657  ;  see  Devon- 
shire 
Cawnpore,  massacre  of,  842 
Caxton,  William,  295 — 298 
Ceadda.  Bishop  of  Mercia,  25,  26 
Ceadwalla,  King  of  Wessex,  37 
Ceawlin,  King  of  Wessex,  12 
Cecil,  Robert,  see  Salisbury- 
Cecil,  William,  381,  390,  391  ;  see  Burleigh 
Centwine,  King  of  Wessex,  37 
Cenwealh,  King  of  Wessex,  34 
Cenwulf,  King  of  Mercia,  43,  44. 
Ceolfrid,  founder  of  Jarrow,  39 
Ceolred,  King  of  Mercia,  37,  38 
Ceurls,  4 

CerdiC,  first  King  of  West  Saxons,  11,  12 
Ceyloa  won  by  England,  809 
Chad,  see  Ceadda 
Chalgrove  Field,  battle  of,  550 
Chalus,  Siege  <  f,  115 
Chambers,  AUerman,  517 
Chancellor,  Richard,  395 
Chancellor,  the.  his  office,  96,  171 
Chancery.  Court  of,  171 
Chantries  suppressed,  357 
Charford,  battle  of  11 

Charles  (the  First).  Prince,  negotiations  for  his 
marriage,  488,  492 

goes  to  Madiid,  494 

h.s  character,  495 

marriage,  ib. 

King,  496 

policy,  ib. 

protects  Buckingham,  498,  499,  503 

levies  forced  loan,  500 

consents  to  Petiti  m  of  Right,  502 

his  per>onal  government.  514—517 

dealings    with    Scotland,    524,    530 — 534, 
.540.  541        ^  , 

tries  t  1  arrest  five  members,  544,  545 

attempt  <  n  Hull,  546,  547 

raises  .standard  at  No;tin><ham,  547,  548 

campaign  if  1642,  548,  549 

neg  tiates  w.th  C  nfiderate  Catholics,  551 

movements  in  1644,  553 

negotiates  at  Uxbridge,  557 

defeated  at  Naseby,  557,  558 

treaty  with  the  Irish,  558 

goes  to  Scotch  camp,  563 

sold  to  Parliamei  t.  564 

seized  by  army,  566 

flies,  568 

prisoner,  ib. 

seized  agam,  570 

trial,  571 

death,  572 
Charles  the  Second  proclaimed  King  in  Scot- 
land, 572 

negotiaes  with  the  Scots,  576 

crowned  at  Scone.  578 

defeated  at  Worcester,  ib. 

restored,  600 

character,  629-631 

policy,  631,  632 

army,  633 

plans  of  Catholic  toleration,  633,  634 

conversion,  638 

neg  )tiates  w.th  Lewis,  638.  639 

relati  ns  with  Parliamenr,  641,  645.  646,648 

relations  with  Lewis,  647,  64^,  652 


Charles  the  Second — coniinued. 

plan  f  .r  James's  succe  ^ion,  654 

change  in  his  temper,  656 

treaty  >Viih  France,  659 

triumph  over  Country  party,  660,  661 

rule,  661 — 663 

death,  663,  664 
Charles  the  Great,  43 
Charles  the  Simple  grants  Norma..dy  to  Hrolf, 

71 
Charles  the  Fifth,  King  of  Spain,  &c.,  322 

Emperor,  324 

alliance  with  Henry  the  Eighth,  ib. 

breaks  his  pledges,  327,  328 

treaty  with  France,  330 
Charles  the  Si-cth,  E.nperor,  729,  734 
Charles  the  Seventh.  Emperor,  741,  742 
Charles  the  Fifth,  King  of  France,  233 
Charles  the  Sixth  of  France.  261,  267,  270,  275 
Charles  the  Seventh  of  France,  275,  276,  278, 

280,  28 1 
Charles  the  Eighth,  King  of  France,  h.s  Italian 

campaign.  311 
Charles  the  Tenth,  King  of  France,  839 
Charles  the  Sec  nd.  King  of  Spain,  701.  703 
Charles  the  Third.  Ki.ig  •  f  Spain,  713,  715 
Charles  the  Fourth,  King  of  Spain.  824 
Charles  the  Twelfth,  King  of  Sweden,  727 
Charlestown,  capture  of.  782 
Charmou  h,  battle  1  f,  46 
Charter  (  f  Henry  the  First,  91 

produced  by  Langton,  127 

the  Great,  328,  129 

re-issued,  131 

confirmed  by  Henry  the  Third,  142,  146 

confirmed  by  Edward  the  First,  207 

the  People's,  840 

of  towns,  cancelled  by  Charles  the  Second, 
663 
Chateau-Gaillard,  114,  116 
Chatham,  Earl  oHjsee  Pitt),  772 — 774,  778,  781, 

782 
Chaucer,  219 — 222 

Caxton' s  edition  of,  296 
Cherbourg  surrendered  to  Charles  the  Seventh, 

281 
Chester  conquered  by  .^Ethelfrith,  19,  20 

Danes  at,  53 

conquered  by  William,  83 
Chesterfield,  Earl  of,  732.  742 
Chichester,  Sir  A'thur,  457 
Chillingworth,  William,  theologian,  612,  613 
China,  war  with,  840 

treaty,  841 
Chippewa,  battle  of,  833 
Chivalry,  182,  183 
Chotusitz,  battle  of,  741 
Christ  Church,  t  )xford,  323 
'■  Christian  Brethren,"  the,  352 
Chronicle,  English,  52 

its  end,  121 
Church,  English,  its  foundation,  18,  15 

in  N  rthumbria.  23—27,  29,  30 

organized  by  '1  heodore,  30 — 32 

condit.on  under  William  the  First,  it 

under  Rufus,  89,  qd 

under  Henry  the  First,  95,  96 

acti  n  durinsi  the  anarchy,  103 

Henry  the  Second  and,  106,  107 

John  and,  123,  124 


850 


INDEX. 


Church,  English — continued. 

condition  under  John  and  Henry  the  Third, 

under  Edward  the  First,  172 

in  fourteenth  century,  236,  237 

plans  of  reform  in,  238 — 240 

political  decline  in  fifteenth  century,  273 

condition  alter  Wars  of  the  Roses,  291 

its  ref  nn  un  lertaken  by  Parliament,  334 

Henry  the  Eigh  h  Head  of,  335—338 

its  independent  jurisdiction  abolished,  336 

T.  Cr  mwell's  dealings  with,  338—340 

spwliatiin  of,  350,  351 

changes  under  Edward  the  Sixth,  358—360 

submission  to  Rome,  363,  364 

Elizabeth  and,  376 — 379 

proposals  for  reform  in  Parliament,  405 

conditi  n  under  Elizabeth,  406 

parties  in,  4^6 

demand  fr  its  ref  )rm,  477 

the  Long  Parliament  and,  543 

Cromwell's  dealings  with,  590 

condition  under  Charles  the  Second,  621, 

622 
bill  for  its  security,  648 
James  the  Second's  dealings  with,  668 
temper  after  the  Revolution,  690 
c  ndition  under  the  Georges,  735,  736 
influence  <  f  Methodists  on,  739 
Irish,  its  missi  n  work,  23,  24 
condition  under  Henry  the  Eighth,  451— 

453 

Protestant,  disestablished,  844 

Sc  )ttish  Presbv  terian,  522 — 525,  686 
Church-raes  abolished,  844 
Churchill,  John,  666,705,  706.    See  Marlborough 
C  ntra,  C  nv^nti  n  of,  825 
Circuit,  the  Bloody,  666 
Cistercians,  95 

Ciudad  R  drigo  stormed,  831 
Clair-siir-Epte,  treaty  of,  71 
Clare,  Earl  of,  settles  in  Pembroke,  164,  165 
Clarence,  George,  Duke  of,  287,  288 
Clarendon,  Av size  of,  no,  in 

Constitu  ions  of,  107 
Clarend  n,  Edward  Hyde,  Earl  of  (j^^  Hyde), 
Lord  Chancellor,  617 

his  policy,  621 

fall,  6j5.  636 
Oarendon,  Henry  Hyde,  Earl  of,  669,  695 
Claverhouse,  6r5 

Clement  the  Seventh,  Pope,  328.  329,  337 
Clergy,  representation  of,  in  Parliament,  179, 
180 

conditi-^n  in  f  <urtecnth  century,  237,  238 

submission  to  Henry  the  Eighth.  335.  336 

their  enslavement,  340 

position  under  Elizabeth,  378,  406,  470,  471 

Puritan,  expelled,  48a 

Laud's  dealings  with,  510, 511 

condi  ion  under  the  Georges,  735 — 736 

effect  of  Methodist  revival  on,  739 
Cleveland,  Barbara  Palmer,  Duchess  of,  630 
Cleves,  Anne  «  f,  348,  356 
Clifford.  Lord,  284 
CKfford,  Sir  Thomas,  638— 641 
Clive,  Robert,  7 $5,  746.  753.  782,  783 
Clus'cr-Sevcn,  O  nvention  of,  748 
Cloth  of  Gold,  Field  (jf,  324 
Cnichtenagild,  in  London,  95,  197 


Cnut,  King  of  Denmark  and  England,  614—67 

Cnut  the  Kounh,  King  of  Denmark,  88 

C-.al,  discovery  <  fits  uses.  792 

C  ali;ion  Ministry,  713,  788,  789 

Cobhani,  Eleanor,  274 

Cobham,  Lord  (.Sir  John  Oldcastle),  259,  266, 

267 
Codrington.  Admiral,  838 
Coke,  Sir  Edward,  486,  502 
Colchester,  siege  of,  569,  570 
Coleman,  secretary  of  Mary  of  Modena,  649^ 

651 
Colet,  John,  304,  305 

dean  .  f  St.  Paul's,  308 

founds  St.  Paul's  Sch  ol,  ib. 

his  address  to  Convocat.on,  310 

charged  with  heresy,  ib. 

denounces  war,  312 
Colman,  Bishop  of  Lindisfarne,  30 
Columba,  S.,  2j 

Commerce,  B..lingbroke's  proposed  treaty  of, 
719 

Pitts  Treaty  with  France,  795 
Commission,   Ecclesiastical,  under  Elizabeth. 

47?.  471 

abolished,  540 

restored,  668 

Commons  f^ummoned  to  Parliament,  158 

House  of,  232 

its  struggle  with  Wolsey,  325 
Petition  to  Hfnry  the  Eighth,  333,  334 
advance  under  Elizabeth,  403 — 405 
under  James  the  F»rst,  492.  493 
struggle  with  Charles  the  First,  498,  499, 

501.  502.  £05,  537—540.  54a— 545 
place  in  the  constitution,  536 
proceedings  in  1674.  645.  646 
temper  after  the  Revolution,  691 
becomes  supreme  in  tie  State,  696,  697 
its  relation  to  the  Crown  and  the  Ministry, 

697 
Whi?  ascendency  in,  723 
character  under    George   the  Third,   764. 

765 

struggle  with  Wilkes,  773,  774 

with  the  Press,  775 

adopts  Catholic  emancipation,  829, 838 ;  sm 
Parliament 
Commons  of  Kent,  their  Complaint.  a8a 
Commonwealth  established.  573 

proclaimed,  574 
"Communes,"  156 
Compact,  the  Family,  733 
Compiigne,  its  defence  by  Jeanne  d' Arc,  878 
Comprehension  Bill.  69>> 
Compton,  Bishop  of  London,  668,  678,  679 
Compurgation  abolished,  1 1  z 
Comyn,  regent  of  Scotland,  19a 
Comyn,  the  Red,  itlain,  an,  2x2 
Congregation,  Lords  of  the,  381 
Congreg^ationalist*,  their  rise,  560 
Connecticut,  origin  of  the  settlement,  529 
Conservatives,  841 
Conservators  of  the  Peace,  173 
Constable,  Sir  Robert,  346 
Constance  of  Britanny,  1x9 
Constantine,  King  of  Scots,  55 
Constitutional  Clutis,  803,  804 
Continental  system.  Napoleon's,  8x8,  8« 
Contract,  the  Great,  484 


INDEX. 


851 


Convention  of  i66o,  600 

Cromwell,  Oliver— ctmtinugd. 

declares  itself  a  Parliament,  617 

advocates  toleration,  562 

of  i638,  632 

defeats  Sc  ts,  570 

Constituent,  583,  584 

con4uest  of  Ireland,  574—576 

Scottish,  685 

victory  at  Ouiibar,  576,  577 

Convocation,  Colet's  address  to,  310 

at  Worcester,  578 

submits  to  Henry  t  e  Eighth,  336 
upholds  Divine  Right  of  Kings,  478 

drives  out  the  Rump,  581 

his  pf.licy,  584 

its  canons  of  1604,  482 

named  Protector,  5S5 

suspended,  735 
Cook,  Capta.n.  758 

his  rule,  586-591 

foreign  policy,  592.  593.  596 

settlement  of  Ireland,  589 

Cooper,  Sir  Ashley,  599 

Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  617 

refuses  title  of  king,  594,  595 

See  Ahley,  Shaftesbury 

inaugurated  as  Protector,  595 

Coote,  Eyre,  782,  784,  785 

death,  598 

Cope,  Sir  John,  743 

his  corpse  outraged,  620 

Copenhagen,  battle  of,  819 

Cromwell,  Richard,  598 

bombardment  of,  824 

Cromwell,  Tho  nas,  332 

Copy-holders,  246 

fidelity  to  WoLsey,  333 

Corn  Laws,  837,  841 

counsel  on  the  divorce,  ib.,  334 

Cornwall  conquered  by  Ecgberht,  43 

policy,  335 

revolts,  46 

Vicar- General,  ^38 

dealings  with  the  Church,  338 — 341,   354, 

royalist  nsing  in,  549 

Cornwall,  Richard,  Earl  of,  152,  157 

356 

C^rnwallis,  Lord,  782,  785 

his  rule,  341—343 

Corresponding  Society,  807 
Corunna,  battle  of,  825 

dealings  with  the  nobles,  346,  347 

administrative  activity,  347 

Counc.l,  the  Continual,  155,  203 

fall,  348 

Great,  iii,  129,  173,  174 

success  of  his  policy.  349,  350 

of  Officers,  574 

his  revvval  of  Parliaments,  350 

Royal,  its  criminal  jurisdiction,  302 

Crowland  Abbey,  33 

reorganized  by  Temple,  653,  654 

Cuba,  English  conquest  of,  764 

Privy,  III 

Culloden  Moor,  battle  of,  744 

Cumberland  granted   to  Constantine  of  Scot- 

of State,  573 

County  Court,  the,  176 

land,  55 

Country  party,  641,  645,  647 

Cumberland,  Ernest,  Duke  of,  King  of  Han- 

Courcy, John  de,  446 

over,  841 

Courtenay,  Bish  p  of  London,  239 

Cumberland,  William,  Duke  of,  742,  744,  748 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  242,  259,  260 

Cumbria,  kingdom  of.  19,  184,  185 

Courtenay,  see  Exeter 

southern,  conquered  by  Ecgfrith,  34 

Covenant,  the  Scottish,  531,  532 

Cuthbert,  S.,  26,  27,  34,  35 

signed  in  L  )ndon,  551 

Cuthwulf,  King  of  the  VVest  Saxons,  12 

burnt  there,  621 

Cynric,  11,  12 

abolished  .n  Scotland,  632 

Coventry,  Sir  William,  641 

Coverdale,  Miles,  341 

Daci^e,  Lord,  345,  346 

Cowell,  his  theory  .  f  absolutism,  478 

Dacres,  Leonard,  390 

Cowper,  William,  Lord  Keeper,  713 

Daegsastan,  battle  of,  19 

Craft-gilds,  198,  199,  201 

Danby,  1  homas  Osborne,  Earl  of.  Lord  Trear 

Craggs,  Secretary  of  State,  728 

surer,  646 

Cranfield,  Treasurer,  494  ;  see  Middlesex 

his  policy,  ib.,  647,  648 

Cranmer,  Thomas,  his  advice  on   Henry  the 

fall,  652 

Eighth's  divorce,  334 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  337 
divorces  Henry  and  Catharine,  ib. 

correspondence  With  William,  678,  679 

prepares  for  a  rising,  680,  681 
Lord  President,  691 

crowns  Anne  Boleyn,  ib. 

Danegeld,  97 
Danelaw,  the,  48 
conquest  of,  54 
revolts,  55,  57 

his  Protestantism,  358 

imprisoned,  362 

his  life  and  death,  367,  368 

Cr^cy,  battle  of,  226,  227 

submits  to  Swein,  62 

Crew,  Chief  Justice,  500 

Danes  attack  Britain,  45,  46 

Crimean  war,  842 

conquer  Last  AngLa  and  attack  Wessex, 

Crompton  invents  the  "mule,"  792 

•»7 

Cromwell,  Henry,  589 

struggle  with  JEUred,  48,  53 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  his  youth,  466,  467,  554 

treaties  wi  h  him,  48,  50 

routed  by  Eadward  and  iEthelred,  53 

at  Marston  Mo  )r,  552,  553 

quarrel  with  Manchester,  553 

defeated  at  Brunanburh,  55 

his  regiment,  554,  555 

massacre  of,  62 

scheme  of  New  Model,  556,  557 

conquer  England,  62—64 

victory  at  Naseby,  557,  558 

their  settlements  iu  Irelajid,  44  f 

852 


INDEX. 


Daniel,  poet  and  historian,  399 

Darcy.  Lord,  346 

Darnley,   Henry  Stuart,  Lord,   361,    385,  386, 

387 
David,  King  of  Scots,  187 
David  Bruce  ;  see  Bruce 
David,  Prince  of  Wales,  168 
Davies,  Sir  John,  526 
Deane,  General,  589 
"Defenders,"  Irish,  814 
Deira,  kingdom  of,  13,  17 
Deorham,  battle  <  f,  12 
Derby,  Ferrers,  Earl  of,  109 
Derby,  Henry  of  Lancaster,  Earl  of,  261.  262, 

263  :  see  Henry  the  Fourth. 
Derby,  Edward  Stanley,  Earl  of,  842,  843 
Derinod,  King  of  Le.nster,  445,  446 
Desmond,  Earl  of,  456 
Despensers,  the.  209,  210 
Dettingen,  battle  of.  741 
Devonshire,  Earl  of  {see  Cavendish),  679,  680, 

681 
Digby,  Lord,  537 
Digges,  Sir  Dudley,  498,  499 
Directi^ry,  the  French,  809 
Dissidence,  its  growth,  561,  562 
Disraeli,  Benjamin,  843,  844 
Di)mesday  Buok,  85 
Dominic,  S.,  148 
Dominicans,  see  Friars 

D<,nne,  526 

Dorchester,  first  West-Saxon  see,  24 

Dorset,  Sackville,  Earl  of,  427 

D'Uglas,  Jame.s,  213 

pover  besK  ged  by  Lewis  of  France,  131 

trea'y  of,  63  ',  639  ' 

Duwdall,  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  453 

Drake,  i-ianris.  415 — 419,  421,  443 

Drama,  see   Litcr.iture 

Dreux.  baitle  <  f,  383 

Drogheda,  storm  of,  575 

Drvdcn,  610,  637,  643 

Dubl.n  Dcsicged  by  Ormond,  575 

Dudley,  minister  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  308 

Dudley,  Guildf  rd,  361,  363 

Dumbartcn  taken  by  Eadberht,  41 

Dunbar,  bat  lie  of,  576,  577 

Duncan,  Admiral,  810 

Dundas,  H<nry,  821 

Dundee,    John  Graham   of  Claverhouse,  Vis- 
count, 685 

Dunedin,  185 

l>unes,  battle  of  the.  506 

Dunkirk  ceded  to  En(;land,  596 
sold  to  France,  635 

Duns  Scotus,  151 

Dunstan,  S..  55,  56 

his  administration,  56—58 
drath,  61 

Dupleix,  his  designs  in  India,  745,  746 

Duuuesne,  Fort,  747.  756 

Durnam,  historians  of,  117 

Dyvnaint,  42 


Eadberht,  King  of  Northumbria,  41 
Eadgar,  King  of  England,  57,  58,  61 

his  Law,  s8,  65 
Eadgar,  the  iEiheling,  80.  83.  90 
Eadgar,  King  of  Scots,  00 


Eadmer,  iz8 

Eadmund,  S.,  of  East  Anglia,  46 

Eadmund.  King  of  Wessex,  55,  56 

grants  Strathclyde  to  Malcolm,  x86 
Eadmund  Ironside,  65 
Eadred,  King  of  Wessex,  56,  57 
Eadric  of  Merf  ia,  65 

Eadward  the  Elder,  King  of  Wessex,  53,  54 
Eadward  the  Confessor,  68 — 70 

his  promise  to  William,  78 
Eadward  the  Martyr,  61 
Eadwig,  King  of  Wessex   57 
Eadwig,  brother  of  Eadmund  Ironside,  65 
Eadwine,  King  of  Northumbiia.  20-^22 
Eadwine,  Earl  of  Merria,  73.  80 — 83 
Ealdhelm.  Bishop  of  Sherborne,  37 
Ealdormen,  15 

Ealrlred,  Archbishop  of  York,  8r 
Ealh^^tan,  Bi.shop  of  Sherborne,  46 
Earldoms  created  by  Cnut,  65 
Ebbsfleet,  7,  8,  18 
Ecgberht  of  Wessex,  42     44 

death,  46 
Ecgberht,  Archbishop  of  York,  41 
Ecgfrith,  King  of  Northumbria,  33 — i<>.^  185 
Ecgwme,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  33 
Edgehill.  battle  of  548 
Edinburgh,  its  origin.  21,  185 

capital  of  Scot  Kings,  187 

French  troops  a",  260 
Edinburgh  Review.  8/9 
Edington,  battle  of,  48 
Edith,  see  Matilda 

Edmund,  son  of  Henry  the  Third,  154 
Edmund  Rich,  135 

reads  Aristotle  at  Oxf  rd,  138 

Archbishop  of  Canierbury,  145 

exile,  146 
(''ducation.  national,  its  beginning<,  840 

Committee  of.  ib. 

School     Boards,     844:     see     Literature 
Schools 
Edward  the  First,  his  motto,  153 

defeated  by  Llewelyn,  154 

faithful  to  the  Provisions  of  Oxford,  155 

captured  at  Lewes,  157 

escapes,  159 

take-*  Gloucester,  ib. 

victory  at  Evesham.  159.  160 

character,  167,  181—184 

crusade,  168 

conquers  Wales,  168,  x6^ 

his  pohcy,  169 

judical  reforms,  170,  171 

Icgisbtion.  172 

social  changes  under,  173.  175,  177,  so* 

first  conquest  of  Scotland.  188 — 190 

second,  191 — 193 

struggle  with  Ixirons,  203,  004,  sod,  so? 

expels  Jew«s.  205 

dealings  witn  cler||y.  206 

war  with  France,  to. 

confirms  Charters,  207 

death,  21a 
Edw.ard  the  Second,  Kintt.  207 

struggle  with  Lonls  Ordamers,  ao8.  ae^ 

defeated  at  B.innockbtim,  213,  214 

truce  with  Sc  tl.ind,  214 

deposed,  210 

murdered,  an 


INDEX. 


«53 


Edward  the  Third  proclaimed  King,  210 
arrests  Mortimer.  215 
struggle  with  Sc  itland,  216 
quarrel  with  France,  223.  224 
alliance  w.th  Flanders,  224 
war  with  France,  225 — 231 
loses  Aquitaine,  233,  234 
death,  251 
Edward  the  Fourth,  see  March 
King,  285 

victor  at  Towton,  ib. 
marriage,  286,  287 
struggle  with  Warwick,  flight  and  return, 

2B7 
final  success,  288 
character,  292 
pol.cy,  293 

patron  c  f  Caxton,  293,  294,  298 
death,  299 
Edward  the  Fifth,  299 
More's  Life  of,  315 
Edward  the  S.xth,  King._  337 

proposal  for  his  marriage,  380 
his  Grammar  Schools,  360 
his  "plan"  for  the  succession,  361 
deah.  ib. 
Edward  the  Black  Prince  at  Crecy,  226,  227 
pjiinders  Gasrony,  2^0 
victory  at  Poitiers,  ib. 
sacks  L.m  ges,  233 
death,  23s 
Egypt  conquered  by  Buonaparte,  810 

French  whhdraw  from,  819 
''Eikon  Basiiike,"  573 
Eld  n,  Lord  Chancellor,  838 
Eleanjr  of  P  ).tou,  wife  of  Henry  the  Second, 

104,  106,  115,  116 
Eleanor  of  Provence,  w.fe  of  Henry  the  Third, 

144,  156,  158,  159 
Eleanor,  sister  of  Henry  the   Third,   marries 

Simon  de  Montfort,  152 
Eliot,  Sir  John,  485,  497,  478 
attacks  Buckingham,  499 
arrested,  ib. 

moves  Remon<^trance,  502 
speeches  in  Parliament,  504,  505 
death,  515 
Elizabeth,    daughter  of   Henry    the    Eighth, 

357 

her  Greek  scholarship,  312 

accession,  369 

character,  370 — 376 

Church  poLcy,  376 — 379   468 

dealings  with  Scotland,  381 

with  Huguenots.  384 

with  Roman  Catholics,  384,  385,  408—410, 
416 

troubles  with  Mary  Stuart  and  the  Parlia- 
ment, 386,  387 

with  Marv  and  Alva,  389 

Catholic  revolt  and    Bull   of    Deposition 
against  \ier,  390,  391 

relations  with  Parliament,  402—405,  481 

plans  for  her  marriage,  414 

policy  in  Ireland,  455 — 457 

dea'h,  ^'^cr 
Elizabeth,    daughter  of  Edward   the   Fourth, 
300 

marr.es  Henry  the  Seventh.  301 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  the  First,  488 


Elizabeth,  Empress  of  Russia,  747,  764 
Ellandun,  battle  of,  44 
Ell.ott.  General,  782,  786 
Ely,  foundation  of,  33 
burnt  by  Danes,  46 
surrendered  to  William,  83 
Emma,  wife  of  ^thelred  the  Second.  62 
Emp^on.  min.ster  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  308 
Enclosures,  riots  .'igainst.  292 
England,  the  making  of,  7 — 44 

intercourse  witli  the  Franks,  43 

Danish  conquest  of,  62  -64 

condition  under  Cnut.  64—67 

relations  with  N  rmandy,  77,  78 

conquered  by  William,  £0 — 83 

immigration  from  the  C  ntinent  into,  92 

conditi  n  under  Stephen,  103 

under  Interdict,  124 

agrarian  discontent  in,  248,  326,  327 

Commines'  ace  uut  of,  288,  289 

New  Learning  in,  3^4 — 314 

effects  of  Wulsey's  adm.nistration  in,  322 — 

324 
change  in  attitude  towards  Rome,  336 
industrial    progress    under    Edward    the 

First,  202 
social  condition  in  the  sixth  century,  14 — 

16 
in  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries.  59, 60 
under  the  Edwards,   173,   175,  202,  217  — 

219.  222,  223,  238 
in  fourteenth  century,  245 — 250,  257—259 
in  fifteen  h  century,  272 — 274 
during  Wars  .  f  the  Roses,  289 
after,  290—292 
under  Elizabeth,  392 — 397 
in  Puritan  time,  462 — 464,  466 
modern,  its  beg.nning,  605 
joins  Triple  Alliance,  637 
position  in  Grand  Alliance,  684 
new  position  under  House  of  Hanover,  721 
growth  of  trade  and  wealth,  730 
society  in,  under  ih-j  Georges,  736 
philanthropic  re  ival  in.  740 
alliance  w  th  Prussia,  748 
its  place  in  the  world,  758,  787 
relations  wi  h  A  ner.ca,  760,  777 — 781,  785, 

786,  827,  828,  832—834 
industr.al  progress  in  eighteenth  centtiry, 

79^-  792  ,       .  .      .       ^      • 

conduion  compared  with   the    Continent, 

7.97 

attitude  towards  French  revolution.  803 

efforts  of  revolutionists  in,  804 

panic  in,  806,  807 

colonial  gains,  809 

successes  at  sea.  809,  810 

northern  league  against.  818,  819 

declares  war  with  Buonaparte,  820 

condition  dunng  French  war,  828,  829 

after,  837 

severed  from  Han  iver.  840 
England,  New,  505  -509,  513,  514 

return  of  Independents  from,  560 

its  four  States,  758 

its  scho  Is,  759 
England.  OH,  i 
Engle,  their  Sleswick  home,  i,  2 

settle  in  East  Anglia,  11 

conquer  Mid-Britain  and  the  North,  12,  13 


854 


INDEX. 


English  people,  their  life  in  the  older  England, 

2—4 

their  religion,  4,  5 

conquer  Britain,  7 — 13 

their  settlement,  14,  15 

significance  of  their  history,  787  ;  set  Eng- 
land 
English,  Middle,  13 
Eorls,  4 
Episcopacy  abolished  in  Scotland,  524 

restored,  ib. 

demand  for  its  abolition  in  England,  543 
Erasmus,  305,  306 

his  edition  of  S.  Jerome,  307,  313 

"Praise  of  Folly,"  308,  316 

denounces  the  war,  312 

his  Greek  Testament,  313 

his  theology,  313,  314 
Essex,  Countess  of,  487 
Essex,  Earl  of,  Elizabeth's  favourite,  434,  457. 

458 
Essex,  Earl  of,  commander  of  Parliamentary 
army,  547,  549 

relieves  Gloucester,  550 

defeated  in  Cornwall,  553 

resigns  his  command,  556 
Essex,  Earl  of,  minister  of  Charles  the  Second, 
652,  655,  657 

suicide,  661 
Essex,  Henry  of,  165 
Euphuism,  309.  400 
Eustace  the  Monk,  131 
Evesfiam,  its  origin,  33 

battle  of,  160 
Exchange,  the  Royal,  394 
Exchequer,  Court  of,  07.  112 

R.chard  Fits-Neals  treatise  un,  118 

closed,  639 
Excise  Uill,  Walpole's,  731 
Exclusion  B.ll,  654,  658 
Exeter,  Danes  in,  48 

revolts  against  the  Conqueror,  82 
Exeter,  Courtcnay,  Marquis  of,  347 
Eylau,  battle  of,  823 


Faddilky,  battle  of,  17 

Fairfax,  L  rd,  548 

Fairfax,  Sir  Thwinas,  55a,  556—558,  569,  570 

Falkirk,  battle>«  of,  19a,  744 

Falkland.  Viscount,  54a 

h.s  deman  Is  of  Church  reform.  513 

leaves  Parliament  and  joins  Charles,  547 

death,  550 

his  philosophy,  609,  611,  6ia 
Farmers,  their  rise.  246 
Fastolfe,  Sir  John,  276,  298 
Fawkes,  Guido.  483 
Felton.  John,  503 
Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  King  of  Aragon,  311, 

312 
Ferdinand  the  Seventh,  King  of  Spain,  834 
Ferozcshah,  battle  •  f ,  841 
Fernir,  Bishop  of  St.  David's,  366 
Feudalism,  its  growth  under  the  Conqueror, 

.  83.84 

Its  ruin,  227 
Fifth-Monarchy  men,  633 
Finch,  Ch.ef  Justice,  531,  538 


First  of  June,  battle  of,  809 


Fisher,  Bi.^hop  of  Rochester,  supports  the  New 

Learning,  30  i 

patron  of  Erasmus,  314 
nis  reply  to  Luther,  722 

opposes  Henry  the  Eighth's  divorce,  328 

imprisoned,  344 

death,  345 
Fitzgerald,  Maurice,  445 
Fitzgerald,  Lord  Thomas,  449 
Fitz-Hamo.  Robert,  164 
Fitzharris,  his  impeachment.  659 
Fitz-Neal,  Richard,  his  dialogue  on  the  Exche* 

quer,  118 
Fitz-Osbem,  William.  8r,  82 
Fitz-Peter,  Geoffrey,  Justiciar,  127 
Fitz-Stephen,  Robert,  445 
Fitz-'l  ho.nas,  Thomas,  mayor  of  London,  aoi 
Fitz-Urse,  Reginald,  108,  10c 
Fitz-Walter,  Robert,  127,  13* 
Fitz-Wartnne,  Fulk,  146 
Five  Boroughs,  49,  54 
Fiamsteed,  astronomer,  611 
Flanders,  its  relati^^ns  with  England.  224,  225, 
391 

English  Gild  of  Merchant  Adventurers  in, 
295 

occupied  by  the  French,  636 

delivered  by  MarlboruUiih,  714 
Flemings  in  Pembroke,  164,  165 

under  Edward  the  Third,  224 
Fletcher,  Phineas  and  Giles,  526 
Fleurus,  battles  of,  694,  808 
Flodden,  battle  of,  380 
FI  >od.  Irish  leader.  785 
Florda  ceded  to  England,  764 

restored  to  Spain,  786 
Fontenoy,  battle  <.f.  742 
Fortescue,  S.r  John,  his  definition  of  English 

klng^hip,  289 
Fort  William  (Calcutta),  its  origin,  745 
Fourmigny,  battle  of,  281 
Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  309,  314,  322 
Fox,  Charles,  787,  788 

his  India  •i.ll,  789 

sufiports  Regency  of  Prince  of  Wales.  799 

attitude  towardN  Revolution,  /*.,  800 

his  Libel  Act,  802 

Burke's  onarrel  with,  ib. 

forsaken  by  the  Whigs,  807 

returns  to  office,  82a 

death,  ib. 
Koxe,  J.ihn.  his  "  Bo  k  of  Martyrs,"  407 
France,  William  the  First  and,  89 

E  Iward  the  T  lird  and,  223 — %yi 

alliance  with  the  Sots  260 

truce  with  Richard  the  Second,  a6i 

Henry  the  Fifth  and.  267— 27Q 

Bedford's  campnigns  in,  275—280 

English  expelird  from,  a8i 

relations  with  I talv.  311 

With  H«nry  the  Eighth,   Spain,  and  the 
Empire,  ib ,  31a,  3aa.  335,  327.  330 

civil  warn  in,  384,  ^88.  41a.  443 

relations  with  England  and  HoUand, 
635 

Family  Compact  with  Spain,  733 

alliance  with  Pniss  a,  74a 

deMgnn  in  America,'747 

withdraws  thrnce.  764 

alliance  with  United  States,  781,  798 


634, 


INDEX. 


855 


France — continued. 

Pitt's  treaty  of  commerce  with,  795 

condition  in  eighteenth  century,  797,  798- 

revoluiion  in,  798,  800,  803—806 

declares  war  <  n  the  Emperor,  804 

oq  Holland,  805 

on  England.  806 

insurrections  in.  808 

struggle  against  Europe,  ib. 

conquers  Holland,  ib. 

Directory  in,  809 

conquests  in  Italy,  809,  810 

Consulate,  811 

Buonaparte's  rule  in,  820 

revolution  of  1830,  839 
Franchise,     Parliainentary,    restricted     under 
Henry  the  Sixth.  271,  272 

the  f  .rty  shilling,  273 

extension  in  1832,  839 

in  1867,  844 
Francis,  S.,  of  Assisi,  194 

Francis  the  First,    King  of  France,   conquers 
Lombardy,  322 

meeting  with  Henry  the  Eighth,  324 

prisoner.  327 

relea-ed.  328 
Francis  the  Second,  King  of  France,  380,  382 
Franciscans,  see  Friars 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  769 
Frank-pledge,  197 

Franks,  their  intercourse  with  England,  43 
Frederick  the  Second,  King  of  Prussia,  734 

victory  at  Chotusitz,  741 

alliance  with  France,  742 

seizes  Prague,  ib. 

drives  Austrians  from  Silesia,  743 

treaty  with  England,  748 

seizes  Dresden,  ib. 

victory  at  Prague  and  defeat  at  Kolin,  ib. 

victories  at  Rossbach,  Leuthen,  and  Zorn- 
dorf  754 

defeats  in  1759,  ib. 

successes  in  1760,  763 

share  in  partition  of  Poland,  799 

death,  ib. 
Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales,  733 
Frederick,  Elector  Palatine,  481,  489,  494 
Friars,  the,  148  -151 

Frideswide,  S.,  Pnory  of,  at  Oxford,  133 
Fr.edland,  battle  of,  823 
Frith-Gilds,  1^6,  197 
Fuentes  dOnore,  battle  of,  827 
Fulk  the  Black,  C  unt  of  Anjou,  99,  100 
Fulk  the  Good,  Count  of  Anj  u.  99 
Fulk  of  Jerusalem.  Count  of  Anjou,  100 
Fulk  the  Red,  Count  of  Anjou,  99 


Gage,  General,  778 

Gaimar,  119 

Galen,  Linacre's  translation  of,  304 

Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  348,  358,  362, 

363 
Garnet,  Jesuit,  483 
Gauden.  Dr.,  573 
Gaimt,  Elizabeth,  666 

Gaunt,  John  of,  Duke  of  Lancaster,   invades 
France,  233 
struggle  with  Parliament,  234 — 235 
supports  Wyclif,  239,  240 


Gaunt,  John  oi— continued. 

turns  against  him,  241,  243 

driven  from  power,  261 

expediti  -n  to  Spain,  ib. 
Gavel-kind,  247 
Gaveston,  Piers,  207-208 
Geoffry  Grey-gown,  Count  of  Anjou,  99 
Geoffry  Martel,  Count  of  Anjou.  76.  99,  100 
Geoffry  Planiaaenet,  Count  of  Anjou,  loi,  104 
Geoffry,  s  ^n  of  Henry  the  Second,  109, 112,  115 
George  the  First,  King,  720.  721.  727 
George  the  Second,  King  {see  Cambridge),  tix, 

730.  741.  761 
George  the  Third,  King,  761 

his  "  friends."  762 

supports  Whigs  against  Pitt,  762,  763 

his  home  policy.  764 

dealings  with  the  Commons,  765,  766 

with  the  Whigs,  766 

with  Pitt,  767 

his  personal  administration,  777 

dealings  w.th  America,  776—778 

madness.  799,  830 

refuses  Catholic  emancipation,  818 

death,  838 
George  the  Fourth,  Prince  of  Wales,  Regent 
799.  830 

King,  838 

death,  839 
Georgia  c  Jonized,  759 
Gerald  de  Burri,  118,  119,  134 
Geraldines,  the,  449 
Gewissas,  11 

G.braltar,  sieges  of,  729,  782,  786 
Gilbert,  Sir  H  umphry.  506 
Gilbert  discovers  terrestrial  magnetism,  609 
Gildas,  14 
Gilds,  93.  195 — 199 
Ginkell,  General,  6^4 
Giraldus  Cambrensis,  see  Gerald 
Gladstone,  Mr.,  844 
Glam(  rgan.  conquest  of,  164 
Glanvill,  Ralph,  no 

his  treatise  on  law,  118 
Glastonbury,  37 

Arthur's  tomb  at,  119 
Glencoe,  massacre  of,  686 
Glendower,  see  Glyndwr 
Gloucester,  sirge  of.  550 

Gloucester,  fc-leanor  Cobham.  Duchess  of,  274 
Gloucester,  Duice  of,  son  of  Edward  the  'Third 

261,  262 
Gloucester,  Humphry,  Duke  of,  275,  280 

his  library.  298 
Gloucester,  Richard,  Duke  of,  see  Richaid  th 

Third 
Gloucester,  Gilbert,  Earl  of,  157,  159 
Gl  ucester,  Richard.  Earl  of,  155,  156 
Gloucester,  Robert,  Earl  of,  loi,  102 
Glyndwr.  Owen,  266 
G  .derich.  Lord.  838 
Godfrey,  Sir  Edmondsbury,  650 
Godolphin,  Earl  of,  702,  708 
Godwine,  Earl  of  Wessex,  67,  68 

exileJ,  69 

returns  and  dies,  70 
'*  Goliath,  Bishop,"  120 
G  .indomar,  Count  of,  402,  493 
Goodrich,  B.shi  p  of  tly,  354 
Goojerat,  battle  of,  842 


856 


INDEX. 


'Government,  Act  of,  595 

Instrument  of,  585,  586,  588 
Gower,  poet,  294 

CaxLon's  edition  of,  296 
Grafton,  Duke  of.  772,  776,  777 
Granville,  Earl,  742  ;  see  Carteret 
Grattan,  785,  813 
Greek,  revived  r.tudy  of,  304 
Gretne,  Robert,  401,  428,  429,  431 
Greenvil.  Sir  Bevil,  549 
Greenway,  Jesuit.  483 
Greenwich  Ob  erva.wry  founded,  610 
Gregory  the  Great,  Pope,  18 

i4iifreJ*s  translation  of  his  Pastoral,  52 
Grenville,  Ge  -rge,  his  mmi-stry,  766—769 
Grenvil.e,  Lord,  821—823 
Gresham,  Sir  'I'lioa-as,  394 
Grey,  Earl.  839 

Grey.  Elizabeth,  wife  of  Edward  the  Fourth,  2^7 
Grey,  Laay  lane,  361,  363 
Grey.  John  de.  Bishop  of  N(  rwich,  123 
Grey,  Lord,  Deputy  in  Ireland,  422,  456 
Grey,  L^rd  Le  nard,  449 
Grey,  Sir  Richard,  299 
Grew,  vegetalle  physiologist,  611 
Grindecwbbe,  William,  252,  254 
Gr  cyn.  304,  306,  307 
Grossetcste,    Robert,    Bishop  of  Lincoln,    139, 

145,  1-^8.  151,  153 
Gruffydd,  prince  .  f  Wales,  164 
Guieniie,    struggle   of  Edward    the    First   and 
Philip  the  Sixth  for,  223 

lost  to  England,  281 
Guiscard.  Robert,  74 

Guise.  Mary  i  f.  Regent  of  Scotland,  380,  381 
Guises,  the,  382.  384,  385,  412 
(•uisnes  lost  to  Englan>i,  3O9 
GunhilJ.  sister  of  Swcin,  62 
Gunpowder,  effect  of  its  introduction,  301 
Gunpowder  PI  t»  483 
Gustavus  Ad.Jphus,  515 
Giithlao,  S.,  33 
Guihrum,  King  of  Ea- 1  Anglia,  47 

treaties  witn  itlfred,  4a,  50 
Gwynn,  Nell.  630 
Gyrth.  .-on  of  Godwine,  80 
Gyrwas,  13 


Hadrian  the  Fourth,  P.<pc,  445 

Hainaul  ,  Jacqueline.  Countc>s  of.  275 

Hale,  Siv  Maithew,  579,  584,  616,  620 

Hales,  Sir  Kdward.  667 

Hales,  J   hn,  theologian.  612 

Itales,  John,  leader  of  Peas;uit  Revolt,  252 

Halidon  H.ll.  batile  <  f.  ai6 

Halifax,  ^avile.  VLscount,  652,  655,  658,  659 

share  in  the  Revolution,  683 

Privy  Seal.  691 
Halifax  (Nova  Sc  tia)  founded,  747 
riall,  bi-.hop  and  satirist,  526 
Halley,  as.rono.ner,  611 

Hamilton,  Marquis  and  Duke  of,  53a,  569,  573 
Hamilton,  second  Duke  of,  577,  578 
Hampdm,  J  Im,  resists  a  freed  loan,  500 

refuses  ship-money,  529 

trial,  530  531 

ju  Igem  nt  annulled,  538 

charsed  with  treasv^n,  544 

death,  550 


r,  71 
Harfleur  taken  by  Htniy  the  F.fth.  268 
Harereaves.  invrnt  r  of  spinning -jenny,  792 


Hampton  Court  Conference,  480 
Hanover,  Convention  of.  744 

House  cf,  705.  721.  722 
severed  from  England,  840 
Harald,  K.ng  of  England,  67 
Harald  Hardrada.  K.  ng  of  Norway,  78,^79 
Hardwicke,  Lord  Chai.cellor,^32 
(f  Henry 
nt  r  of  s 
Harlaw,  ba.tle  of,  380 
Harley,  Robert,  713 

intrigues  aga.nst  Manborough,  716,  718 

rivalry  with  Bolingbroke,  719 

countenances  South  Sea  Company,   728  ; 
see  •  xf  rd 
Harold,  son  of  Godwine,  69 

his  administra  ion.  70 

WeLh  campaign,  164 

King,  7o 

his  oath  to  Wi.liam,  78 

struggle     with     Harald      Hardrada     and 
William,  78,  79 

denth,  80 
Harthacnur,  King  of  England.  67 
Harvey  discovers  circulation  of  the  bl  od,  609 
Haselrig,  (.ne  of  the  five  members,  544,  580, 

.  586.  597,  599 
Hasting,  53 

Hastings,  battle  of.  79,  80 
Hastings,  John,  claims  Scottish  throne.  188 
Hastings,  Lord,  minister  of  Edward  the  Fourth 

,  299 
Hastings,  Warren,  783,  785,  796 
Hatfiel  1,  battle  of,  22 
Havelock,  Mr  Henr\-,  843 
Hawke.  Ad.niral,  755 
Havsk^ns,  John  ,  395 
Hawley,  General,  744 
Heaven's  Field,  battle  of,  23 
Hengcst,  7.  8 
;    Hen^esi-dun,  battle  of,  46 

Henrietta  M.ir.a,  wife  <  f  Charles  the  First,  495 
Henry  the  First,  his  accession,   chaner,  and 
marriage,  91 

suppresses  revolt,  96 

c<  nquers  Normandy,  ib. 

his  admini  trati.xi,  96,  97 

struggle  with  Anjou,  100 

death,  loi 

palace  '  f  Beaumont,  133 

dealings  witli  V\  ales,  164 
Henry  the  Second,  his  marriage  and  acccssMD 
X04 

person  and  character,  104,  105 

policy,  lofj  106 

rela  ions  with  V  ranee,  106 

Chuieh  policy,  io<>,  107 

quarrtl  w.th  Beket,  loS,  109 

war  of  Toul  u-e,  to6,  109 

crowning  of  his  cldc.vt  son,  to6 

revolt  against,  X09,  no 

t)enance,  no 
egal  reforms,  X09,  no,  iix 
death,  1x2 

vis  t  to  GlasfonHiry,  XT9 
de-ilincs  with  Wales,  1O5 
with  Scotland,  X87,  188 
with  Ireland,  445,  44^ 
Henry  the  '1  hird,  er>wned,  xjx 
confirms  charter,  X42,  X45 


INDEX. 


857 


Henry  the  Third — continued. 

Henry,   son  of  Henry  the  Second,  108,  109, 

quarrel  with  Hubert  de  Burgh,  143 

112 

character  and  policy,  144 

Henry  of  Blois,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  103 

marriage,  ib. 

Henry,  King  of  Navarre  (Henry  the  Fourth 

misrule,  145,  146 

of  France),  416,  443,  475 

expedition  to  Poltou,  146 

Herbert,  Admiral,  679.     See  Torrington 

quarrel  with  Simon  de  Montfort,  152,  153 

Herbert,  George,  526 

with  the  barons,  154,  155 

Hereward,  83 

his  English  proclamation,  155 

Herford,  Nicholas,  240,  242,  244 

treaties  with  France  and  Wales,  ib. 

Herlouin  of  Brionne,  72 

war  with  the  barons,  156 — 160 

Herrick,  526 

death,  168 

Herrings,  battle  of  the,  276,  277 

Henry  the  Fourth,  see  Derby 

Hertford,  Earl  of,  357,  358.    See  Somerset 

king,  264 

Hexham,  battle  of,  286 

relations  with  Parliament,  265 

historian,  of,  118 

suppresses  Lollardry,  ib. 

Highlands  subdued  by  Mouk,  589 

revolts  against  him,  266 

conquest  of,  744 

death,  ib. 

Hild,  abbess  of  Whitby,  27 
Hilsey,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  354 
History,  English,  its  beginning,  40 
under  iElfred,  52 

Henry  the  Fifth,  King,  266 

war  with  France,  267—269 

conquers  Normandy,  269,  270 

marriage,  270 

its  significance,  787 

treaty  with  France,  ib. 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  6c^,  614,  615 

death,  ib. 

Hochkirch,  battle  of,  754 

Regency  nominated  by  him,  275 

Hohenfriedburg,  battle  of,  743 

Henry  the  Sixth,  his  minority,  271 — 274 

Hohenlinden,  battle  of,  811 

crowned  at  Paris,  279 

Holland,     its    relations    with     England    and 

marriage,  2S0 

France,    579,   628,    629,   637,  638 — 640, 

loses  Normandy  and  Guienne,  281 

646,  675,  808 

birth  of  his  son,  282 

Holland,  Jacqueline,  Countess  of,  275 

Holle  ,  one  of  the  five  members,  544,  564,  566 

idiocy,  ib.,  283 

prisoner,  283 

Homilies,  Book  of,  359 

deposed,  285 

Hooke,  microscopist,  611 

flies  to  Scotland,  ib. 

Hooker,  Richard,  469,  470 

prisoner,  286 

Hooper,  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  360,  366 

restored,  287 

Hopton,  Sir  Ralph,  549 

dies,  288 

Horsa,  7,  9 

his  library,  298 

Horsted,  9 

Henry  the  Seventh,  see  Richmond 

Hotham,  Sir  John,  547 

king,  301 

Hotspur,  266 

marriage,  ib. 

Hough,  President  of  Magdalen  Collie,  Oxford, 

revolts  against  him,  ib. 

671 

his  policy,  302 

Hounslow,  camp  at,  668 

title  to  the  throne,  ib. 

Howard,  Catharine,  356,  357 

character,  303 

Howard,  John,  740,  741 

patron  of  Caxton,  298 

Howard  of  Effingham,  Lord,  418 

dealings  with  Ireland,  448 

Howden,  Roger  of,  118 
Howel  Uda,  Laws  of,  164 
Howe,  General,  780 

Henry  the  Eighth,  his  accession,  308 
person,  ib. 

marries  Catharine  of  Aragon,  311 

Howe,  Lord,  809 

war  with  France,  311,  312 

Hrolf  the  Ganger,  71 

education  of  his  children,  312 

Hubert   Walter,   Archbishop   of    Canterbury, 

his  "Assertion  of  the  Seven  Sacraments," 

113,  123 

321 

Hubert  de  Burgh,  see  Burgh 

treaty  with  France,  322 

Hubertsberg,  Treaty  of,  764 

seeks  Imperial  crown,  324 

Huddleston,  Catholic  priest,  663 

mefts  Francis,  ib. 

Huguenots,  382,  384,  412 

alliance  with  Charles  the  Fifth,  ib.,  325 

in  England,  667 

withdraws  from  the  war,  328 

Humbert,  General,  810,  815 

proceedings   for    divorce,    ib.,    329,    334, 

Hundred  Years' War,  its  origin.  223,  224 

promises  a  translation  of  the  Bible,  334 
**  Head  of  the  Church,"  335,  336,  338 

change  in  its  character,  267 

its  effect  on  England,  273,  274 

its  end,  281 

marries  Anne  Boleyn,  337 

Huntingdon,  Henry  of ,  118 

Jane  Seynoiir,  348 

Huskisscn,  Mr.,  838 

Anne  of  Cleves,  ib. 

Hussey,  Lord,  315,  346 
Hutchinson,  Colonel,  462 — ^464 

Catharine  Howard,  356 

death,  357 

his  will,  ib.,  361 

Hyde,  Anne,  635.  669 

Hyde,  Edward,  54',  546,  547-  See  Clarendon 

dealings  with  Ireland,  449—451 

Hyder  Ali,  784,  785 

$58 


INDEX. 


Ida  founds  kingdom  of  Bemicia,  13 

Impositions  of  James  the  First,  483,  484 

Income-tax,  841 

Indemnity,  Bill  of.  691,  692 

Independence,  Declaration  of,  780 

Independents,  559—563 

India,  English  and  Portuguese  in,  745 

French  in,  ib. ,  746 

Clive's  victories  in,  746,  753,  754 

French  wit  id  raw  from,  764 

Clive's  rule  in.  782,  783 

Regu'ating  Act,  783 

condition  under  Hastings,  783—785 

Fox's  India  Bill,  789 

Pitt's,  79s 

Mutiny  m,  842,  843 

transferred  to  the  Crown,  843 
India  C  mpany,  East,  396,  745,  783,  843 
Indies,  West,  acquired  hy  England,  809 
Indulgence,    Declarations    of,    624,   639 — 641, 

670 — 672 
Ine,  king  of  Wessex,  37,  38 
Ingelger,  98 

Inkcrmann,  battle  of,  842 
Innocent  III.,  Pope,  123,  124,  130 
Instrument    of   Govemaient,     585,    586,    588, 

595 
Interdict  in  England,  124 
Inveriuchy,  battle  of,  557 
lona,  23 

Ipswich,  Wolsey's  school  at,  323 
Ireland  attacked  hy  Ecgfnth,  35 

condition  in  twelfth  century,  444,  445 

its  conquest,  445,  446 

John  in. 447 

Kichard  the  Second  in,  261,  447 

Henry  the  Seventh's  policy  in,  448 

Henry  the  Eighth's,  4  s-',  451 

English  colonization  under  Mary,  454 

rev.-lts  a^ain^t  Elizai^eth.  455  -457 

col.vnizati  n  of  Ulster,  458 

Wentwonh  in,  520,  521 

revolt,  541 

Cromwell's  conquest  of,  574,  576 

settlement,  589,  (90 

James  tht  Second's  dealings    with,   668, 
686.  687 

rising  in.  687,  688 

William  H  ca  npaign  in,  693 

Marlb  »rough*8.  id.,  694 

first  union  with  England,  579,  590 

disHulved,  63a 

demands  <  f  the  volunteen,  785 

made  independent,  7E6,  813 

condition    under  the    Georges,   795,  811, 
813 

Pitt's  dealings  with,  705,  814 

efforts  ct'  French  rev  futionists  in,  804 

revolt  of  1708,  810,  8iii 

union  with  England,  815 

a^  ation  for  repeal,  840 

nsin^^ot  S  nith  O'Brien.  841 

Mr.  Gladstone's  dealin  .8  with,  844 
Ireton,  General,  565,  566,  567,  589,  6ao 
Irishmen,  United,  804,  814 
Iron-trade,  792 
Isabella   of  Angoul£me,  wife  of  King  John, 

145 
Isabella  >if  France,  wife  of  Edward  the  Second, 
aio,  225 


Isabella  of  France,  wife  of  Richard  the  Secuoc^ 

361 
Italy,  its  influence  on  English  literature.  399-' 

401 


Jacobites,  692,  695 

revolt.  72s,  74J.  744 

decline,  761 
Jamaica,  English  conquest  of.  593 
James  the  First.  King  of  Scotland,  3Sd 
James  the  Fourth.  King  01  Sco.land.  380 
James  the  Fifth,  King  of  Scotland,  ^80 
James  trie  Sixth  of  Scotland  (First  of  England), 
his  birth,  386 

crowned,  388 

struggles  with  Presbyterianism,  523,524 

person  and  character,  477 

theory  of  monarchy,  478 

of  ecclesiastical  supremacy,  479 

at  Hampton  Court  Conference,  480 

relaxes  penal  laws,  481 

proposes  union  with  Scotland,  48a 

his  impositions,  483,  484 

despotism,  485,  486 

C>urt  and  favourites.  487 

foreign  p  licy,  481,  488,  489 

tears  out  Protestation  of  i^arliameut*  493 

death.  495,  496 
James  the  Second,  see  York 

K.ng,  664 

revolts  against,  ii.,  665 

his  vengeance,  665,  666 

increases  the  army,  666 

alliance  with  France,  ib. 

dispenses  with  Test  Act.  667 

dealings  with  Scotland,  668 

struggle  With  English  Churchmen,  669 

tries  to  win  .Monconfonnists,  670 

attacks  Universities,  671 

struggle  with    clergy    and    Bishops,   671 
67a 

birth  of  his  son.  679 

de-erted,  679—681 

flight,  68a 

goes  JO  St.  Germain,  684 

dealings  with  Ireland,  668,  686— <S88,  693 

death,  704 

i arrow,  39 
ava  w  n  by  England.  809 
eanne  d'Arc.  374  -379 
Jeff  evs,  Chicf-ju>tiCe,  665,  666 

Chancell  r,  67a 
Jemappes,  battle  of,  805 
lena,  battle  of,  8aa 
Jeak.ns'  ear,  73} 
Jcr-ey,  New,  759 
Jervis,  AdiUtral,  810 
jesu  ts  in  EnglanJ,  409,  ^to 
Jews  settle  in  England.  8(>,  87 

expelled,  305 

rriurn,  591 
loan  of  Arc  se*  Jeanne 
Johanna,  daughter  of  King  John,  165 
John,  oon  of  Henry  the  Second,  xia,  xxj 

King,  115 

l.ise&  Normandy,  &c.,  X15,  xi6 

his  charac  er,  122 

quarrel  wi;h  the  Church.  123,  12^ 

with  the  barooa,  124,  125 


INDEX. 


859 


John — continued. 

Labourers— <:wtf««^rf. 

Welsh  wars,  124,  125,  165 

as  painted  by  Longland,  257,  258 

homage  to  the  Pope,  125 

their  enfranchisement  refiLsed,  255 

war  with  Frar.ce,  125,  126 

Statute  of,  249 

with  the  barons,  127 

its  failure,  257 

signs  Charter.  128 

demand  for  its  repeal,  282 

subdues  Rochester  and  the  North,  130 

influence    of    labour     question    on    tb« 

dealings  with  Ireland,  446,  447 

monarchy,    292 

death.  131 

La  Hogue.  battle  of,  696 

John,  King  of  Bohemia,  227 

Lambert,  General,  569,  595,  599,  618 

John,  King  of  France,  230 

Lambeth,  treaty  of,  131 

Tohn  the  Old-Saxon,  51 

Lancaster,  J  hn,  Duke  of,  see  Gaunt 
Lancaster,  Thomas,  Earl  of,  208,  200 
Lancaster,  House  of,  its  claims  to  the  Crown, 

.  ohn  the  Litster,  254 

.  onson,  Ben,  437 

.  oseph  the  Sec  md,  Emperor,  799 

264,  283 

;  unius,  768,  774 

.  unto,  me,  698,  699,  702 

its  fall,  288 

Land-tenure,  changes  in,  84,  85,  173,  326,  327 

.  urors  in  the  shire-court,  176 

Lanfranc  at  Bee,  72,  77 

]  ury,  the  grand,  iii 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  85 

petty,  zb. 

secures  the  Crown  for  Rufus,  89 

trial  by,  no 

death,  ib. 

Justiciar,  the,  96 
Justices  of  the  Peace,  173 

Langport,  battle  of,  558 

Langside,  battle  of,  389 

Jutes,  their  c  'untry,  i 

Langton,  Simon,  130 

land  at  Ebbsfleet,  7.  8 
found  kingdom  of  Kent,  15 

Langion,  Stephen,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 

123 

Juxon,  Bishop  of  London  and  Treasurer,  512 

heads  opposition  to  John,  126 

produces  Charter  of  Henry  the  First,  127 

suspended,  130 

Kenneth    MacAlpin,    King  of     Picts   and 

his  care  for  the  Charter,  142 

Scots,   185 

death.  143 
Langton,  Bishop  of  Winchester.  307 

Kent,  English  conquest  of,  8—10 

kingdo  n  of,  15 

Language,  English,  under  the  Normans,   120, 

greatness  under  iEthelberht,  17 

121 

conversion,  18 

Henry  the  Third's  proclamation  in,  155 

fall,  19 

growing  use  of,  217.  218 
changes  in  Caxton's  time,  297 

subject  to  Mercia,  36,  41 

John  Ball  in,  250 

used  m  law  co-irts,  731 

revolts  in.  252,  281 

Lansdowne  Hill,  battle  of,  54^ 

Complaint  of  Commons  of,  282 

Latimer.  Hugh,  352,  353 

Kent,  Edward,  D  ike  of,  840 

Bishop  of  Worcester,  354 

Kent,  Earl  of,  beheaded,  215 

imprisoned,  356,  362 

Ketel  of  S.  Edmundsbury,  94 

burned,  367 

KilJare,  Earl  of.  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland,  448, 

Latitudinarians,  476,  609,  611— 613 

449 

Laud,  B  shop,  496.  504 

Kilkenny,  Statute  of,  447 
Killiecrankie.  battle  of,  685 

character  and  policy,  509,  510 

Archbishop  (  f  Canterbury,  510 
plans  of  Church  restoration,  511 — 514 

Kilmarnock.  Earl  of,  744 

Kilsyth,  battle  of,  558 

first  minister.  522 

King,  growth  of  his  dignity,  59 

dealings  with  Scotch  Church,  524,  525 

the  King  in  council,  171 

sent  to  the  Tower,  538 

Divine  nght  of,  478 

Lauderdale,  Earl  of.  632 

his  feudal  rights  abolished,  619 

Lauffeld,  battle  of.  744 

King's  Bench,  Court  of,  112 

Lauzun,  Count  of.  693 

King's  Court,  the,  97,  in,  171 

Law,  national,    its  development  under  .^Ifired, 

Kingdoms,  the  Three,  19 

50 

Kingship,  English,  its  origin,  15 

Roman,  in  England,  132,  133 

theory  of.  in  thirteenth  century,  183,  184 

of  Eadgar,  58,  65 

Sir  John  Fortescue's  definition  of,  289  ;  see 

of  Eadward,  68 

Monarchy 

of  Howel  Dda.  164 

Kit's  Coty  H  use,  9 

Law  Cou''ts,  Common,  170,  171 

Knights  of  the  shire,  158,  176,  177 
KnoTles*  "  History  of  the  Turks,"  399 

English  language  adopted  in,  731 

T.ayamon,  121 

Knox's  Liturgy,  525 

Leaijue,  the  Holy,  311.  312 

Kolin,  battle  of,  748 
Kunersdorf,  battle  of,  754 

Leammg,  the  New,  303,  304 

its  educational  ref  rms,  308,  309 

plans  of  Church  reform,  310 

throl  gy,  313,  514 , 
antaeonism  to  Luther,  321,  322 

Laboitrhrs,  their  rise,  246.  247 

condition  after  Black  Death,  248,  249 

Leases,  their  introduction,  246 

86o 


INDEX. 


Leicester,  town  of,  194,  195 

Leicester,  Earl  of,  revolts  against  Henry  the 

Second,  109 
Leicester,  Earl  of,  Elizabeth's  favourite,  416,418 
Leicester,  Earl  of,  see  Montfort 
Leipzig,  battle  of,  832 
Leith,  siege  of,  381 
Leland,  399 
Lenthall,  Speaker,  545 
Leo  the  Tenth,  Pope,  313,  320,  321 
Leofric,  Earl  of  Mercia,  68 
Leslie,  David.  532,  538,  576—578 
Leuthen,  battle  of,  754 
Levant  Company,  484 
Leven,  Alexander  Leslie,  Earl  of,  552,  563 
Lewes,  battle  of,  157 

Mise  of,  158 
Lewis  the  Seventh,  King  of  France.  106,  109 
Lewis(theEighth)of  France, in  England, 130,131 
Lewis  the  Ninth,  King  of  France,  156 
Lewis  the  Eleventh,  King  of  France,  311 
Lewis  the  Twelfth,  King  of  France,  311,  322 
Lewis  the  Fourteenth,  634 

relations  with  England  and  Holland,  635 

claims  Low  Countries,  636 

makes  peace  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  637 

treaties  with  Charles  the  Second,  638,  639, 
647,  659 

revokes  Edict  of  Nantes,  666,  667 

his  power,  673 

character  and  policy,  674,  675 

attacks  Flanders,  675 

Holland,  ib. 

Itely,  676 

Germany,  677.  680,  684 

Netherlands,  696 

designs  on  Spain,  701,  702 

acknowledges  the  Pretender,  705 

campaign  of  1703,  710 

offers  terms,  717 

death,  725,  726 
Lewis  the  Fifteenth,  726.  742 
Lewis  the  Sixteenth,  798,  800,  803,  805,  806 
Lewis  the  Eighteenth,  834,  836 
Lexington,  battle  of,  779 
Lichfield,  seat  of  Mercian  bishopric,  25,  26 

archbishopric  of,  42 

suppressed,  43 
Liegnitz,  battle  ofT  763 
Ligny.  battle  of,  835 
Lilburnc,  John.  «;74,  575 
Lille  taken  by  Marlborough,  717 
•' Lillibullcro,"  6S0 
Lilly,  head  of  St.  Paul's  School,  309 
Limerick,  sie^e  of,  693,  694 
Limitation  Bill,  659 
Limoges,  sack  of,  233 
Linacre,  304 
Lincoln,  Battle  of,  loa 

Fair  of,  131 
Line  In,  John  de  la  Pole,  Earl  of,  301 
Lindisfarne,  See  of,  a^ 

Irish  monks  of,  withdraw  to  lona,  30 

Cuihbert  at,  34,  35 
Lindiswara,  13 

■ubmit  to  Penda,  aa 

to  Oswald,  2 A  _ 

ceded  to  Ecgfrith,  34 

seized  by  i1<"thelrea,  35 
Lisle,  Alice,  666 


Litany,  the  English,  356 
Literature,  in  N  orthuinbria,  38 — 41 

under  itlfred,  51,  5a 

under  Dunstan,  58 

under  Normans  and  Angevins.  117 — laz 

in  fourteenth  century,  218—222 

literature  of  Peasant  Revolt,  351,  asa,  355 
—257 

decline  in  fifteenth  century,  274,  294 

Caxton's  translations,  296,  297 

New  Learning,  303 — 309 

under  Elizabeth,  398 — 401,  421  —  425 

Elizabethan  drama,  426 — 437 

drama  of  the  Restoration,  607 

beginnings  of  journalism,  775 

literature  of  Wales,  i6i — 163 
Lithsnien  of  London,  198 
Liturgy,  the  Scottish,  525,  sag 
Liverpo  1,  its  rise,  730 
Liverpool,  Earl  of,  829,  830,  838 
Livery  Companies  of  London,  aoi 
Llewelyn  ap  Gruffydd,  154,  167.  168 
Llewelyn  ap  Jorwerth,  142,  165 — 167 
l-oan,  forced,  500 
Locke,  John,  615,  616 
Lollardry,  its  origin,  242 

suppressed  at  Oxford,  243 

character  after  Wyclifs  death,  259 

progress,  260 

suppressed,  265.  267 

under  Henry  the  Sixth,  273 
London,  its  position,  la 

submits  to  Wulfhere,  32 

to  Ine,  37 

to  Offa,  41 

plundered  by  northmen,  45 

Subject  to  /'Elfred,  50 

suomits  to  William,  81 

Normans  in,  92 

Henry  the  First's  charter  to  93 

religious  revival  in,  95 

S.  Paul's  cathedral,  ib. 

election  of  Stephen,  loi 

defies  Innocent  the  Third,  130 

Friars  in,  140 

supports  Earl  Simon,  156,  157 

its  cnihtengild,  95,  197 

lithsmen,  198 

rising  of  craftsmen  in,  aoo,  aoi 

attaclcea  by  Peasants,  asa 

supports  Lollardry.  359 

Lollard  rising  in,  267 

supports  Richard  of  York.  283 

declares  for  Edward  the  Fourth,  385 

its  trade,  58,  395 

Merchant  Adventurers  of,  396 

its  extension  forbidden.  516 

supports  Shaftesbury,  654,  660 

Plague  of,  6a9 

Fire  of,  ib, 

sympathy  with  America.  778 
Londonderry,  Marquis  of(MirCastlercagh),8s8 
Lond  inderry.  siej^  of,  687,  688 
Longchanvn,  William  of,  it  a.  113 
Longland.  William.  255 — as? 
Lords,  House  of,  Harley's  dealings  with,  719 

scheme  for  limiting  its  numbers.  727 

Pitt's  dealings  with,  816 

rejects  Catholic  emancipation.  829 

dealings  with  Ref  irm  Bill,  839 


INDEX. 


86i 


Lothian  granted  to  the  Scots,  i86 

Loughborough,  Lord  Chancellor,  817 

Louis  Philippe,  King  of  the  French,  839 

Louisburg,  capture  of,  756 

Lovat,  Lord,  744 

Lowestoft,  battle  of,  628 

Ix)wlands,  the,  184 

LuclcDOW,  relief  of,  843 

Luddite  riots,  829 

Ludlow,  General,  589 

Luneville,  Peace  of,  811 

Luther,  320,  321 

More's  and  Fisher's  replies  to,  322 
Luttrell,  Colonel,  774 
Lutzen,  battle  of,  832 
Lydgate,  294 

Caxtcn's  edition  of,  296 
Lyly,  John,  399 
Lyttelton,  Lord  Keeper,  547 


"  Mabinogion,"  162 

Mackay,  General,  685 

Madras,  its  origin,  745 

Magellan,  Straits  of,  English  explorers  in,  758 

Mahrattas,  746,  784 

Maine,  county  of,  77,  115,  280 

Major-Generals,  Cromweirs,  588 

Malacca?  won  by  England,  809 

Malcolm  the  First,  King  of  Scots,  55,  186 

Malcolm  the  Third,  King  of  Scots,  83,  90,  187 

Maldon,  battle  of,  61 

Malmesbury,  William  of,  118 

Maiplaquet,  battle  of,  717 

Malta,  dispute  for  possession  of,  8i8 

retained  by  England,  837 
Man,  Isle  of,  conquered  by  Eadwine,  21 
Rlanchester,  massacre,  837 
Manchester,  Earl  of,  550,  552,  553,  556 
Manor,  the  English.  245,  246 
Manufactures,  English,  224,  394,  791,  792,  828 
Map,  Walter  de,  120 
Mar,  Earl  of,  720.  725 
March,  Edward,  Earl  of,  284  ;  see  Edward  the 

Fourth. 
Mare,  Peter  de  la,  235 
Marengo,  battle  of,  811 

Margaret,  sisterof  Eadgar  the  ^theling,  83,187 
Margaret,  daughter  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  361, 

380,  385 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  wife  of  Henry  the  Sixth, 

280,  283,  285,  287,  288 
Margaret,  the  Maid  of  Norway,  188 
Margaret  of  York,  Duchess  of  Burgundy,  287, 

301 
Maria  Theresa  of  Austria,  729,  734,  741,  747 
Marignano,  battle  of,  322 
Marlborough,  Earl  of,  see  Churchill. 

campaign  in  Ireland,  693,  694 

intrigues  against  William,  695,  707 

power  over  Anne,  707 

character  and  statesmanship,  708,  709 

campaign  in  Netherlands,  710 

victory  at  Blenheim,  711,  712 

Duke,  712 

relations  with  the  Tories,  712,  713 

with  the  Whigs,  713,  715,  716 

victory  at  Ramillies,  713,  714 

successes  in  Flanders,  717 

fall,  718,  719 


Marlborough,  Sarah  Jennings,  Duchess  of,  707. 

716 
Marlowe,  Christopher,  420 
Marriages,  civil,  legalised,  840 
Mar.h  or  de  Marisco,  Adam,  151,  152, 154 
Marshal,  Richard,  Earl,  145 
Marshal,   William,   Earl    of   Pembroke,    123, 

131.  141 
Marston  Moor,  battle  of,  552,  553 
Marten,  Henry,  539,  574 
Martinico,  English  conquest  of,  764 
"  Martin  Marpielate,"  473 
Mary,  dausihterof  Henry  the  Eighth,  betrothed 
to  Charles  the  Fifth,  324 

Queen,  361 

her  policy,  362 

marriage,  ib.,  363 

revolt  against  her,  363 

her  persecutions,  364,  366,  368 

war  with  France,  369 

death,  ib. 

Ireland  under  her,  453,  454 
Mary,    daughter  of  James,   Duke    of  York, 
646 

marriage,  647,  649 

Queen,  683 

death,  699 
Mary  Stuart,  Queen  •  f  Scots,  361,  362 

claims  to    English  throne,  362,  369,   370, 
379.  380,  383.,    ^ 

proposed  as  wife  f^r  Edward  the  Sixth, 
380 

marries  the  Dauphin,  ib. 

returns  to  Scotland,  382 

character  and  policy,  382,  383 

marries  Darnley,  385 

her  plans,  386,  387 

vengeance  on  iJarnley,  387 

marries  Bothwell,  388 

imprisonment  and  abdication,  ib. 

escapes  to  England,  389 

plots  against  Elizabeth,  391 

death,  417 
Mary,  daughter  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  361 
Mary  of  Modena,  wife  of  James  the  Second, 

645 
Maryland  colonized,  507 
Maserfeld,  battle  of,  24 
Masham,  Mrs.,  716 
Massachusetts,  its  settlement  and  charter,  508, 

Puritan  emigration  to,  513,  514 

charter  altered,  777 
Massena,  General,  811,  826,  827 
Massey,  dean  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  671 
Matilda  (Edith),  wife  of  Henry  the  First.  91 
Matilda,  the  Empress,  daughter  of  Henry  the 

First,  97,  98,  loi,  102 
Matilda    of    Flanders,    wife   of   William    the 

Conqueror,  77 
Maunay,  Sir  Walter,  248 
Maurice,  Prince,  550 
May/lower,  the,  507 
Mayne,  Cuthbert,  408 
Meaux,  siege  of,  by  Henry  the  Fifth,  270 
Medeshamstead,  33 
Medicis,  Catharine  of,  385,  388,  412 
Medina  Si'lonia,  Duke  of,  419,  420 
Melbourne,  Viscount,  839 — 841 
MeUitus,  Bishop  of  London,  22 


862 


INDEX. 


Melrose,  26 

Melville,  Andrew,  523,  524 
Meon-»ara,  32 
Merchad^,  114 
Merchant-gilds,  197 
Mercia,  its  origin,  13 
under  Penda,  22 
its  conversion,  25 
three  pr  ivinces,  ib. 
under  Wulfhere,  32,  33 
struggle  with  Wessex,  38,  41 — 44 
pays  tribute  to  Danes,  47 
extent  after  Peace  of  Wedmore,  49 
annexed  to  Wessex,  54 
earldom  of,  65 
Merlin,  prophecies  of,  166,  168 
Meth  disis,  737—739 
Middlesex,  electors  (f,  their  struggle  with  the 

Commons,  773,  7^4 
Middlesex,  Cranfield,  Earl  of,  495 
Millenary  Petiti  n,  477 
Milton.  John,  464 — 466 
early  poems,  526,  527 
**  Lycidas,"  531 
ecclesiastical  views,  543,  544 
later  years,  601 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  602 — 604 
Minden,  battle  of.  755 
Ministry,   Sunderlana's   organization  of,    697, 

698 
Minorca  ceded  to  England,  764 

restored  to  Spain,  786 
Mirebeau,  siege  of,  115 
Mise  c.f  Amiens,  156 

of  Lewes,  158 
Model,  New.  of  the  army,  556,  557 

its  struggle  wiih  Parliament,  564 — 571,  599 
disbanded,  604 
Monarchy,  the  new,  its  character  and  causes, 
290-^92 
its  military  power,  301 
erowth  under  Wolsey,  322,  323 
height  of  its  power,  349,  350 
r.nder  Elizabeth,  401 
abolished,  573 

effect  of  the  Revolution  on,  688 
decline  of  its  influence,  721,  722 
Monasteries,  dissolu.ion  of,  339,  340,  336,  357 
Monasiicism,  its  reform  under  Eadgar,  58 
Monk.  General,  589.  599,  600,  617 
Monmouth,  Duke  of,  630 

scheme  f  r  his  succession,  655,  657 
flight,  661 

rebellion  and  death,  664.  665 
Monmouth,  Geoffry  of,  1x9 
Monopolies,  405.  517 
Mons,  SLCge  of,  695 
Monucute,  Lord,  347 
Montagu,  L  rd,  brother  of  Warwick,  986,  887. 

a88 
Montagu,  Ralph,  6s9 
Montague,  Dr.,  496,  497 
Montague,  his  finance,  699,  700 

impeached,  70^^ 
Montcalm,  Marquis  of,  747,  748,  756,  757 
Montfort,  Eleanor  de,  168 
Mon  f  rt.  Simon  de,  Earl  of  Leicester,  15a 
Governor  of  Gascony,  153 
character,  153,  154 
heads  the  barons,  155 


Montfort,  Simon  de — continusd, 

negotiates  with  France,  155 

stru^:gle  with  Henry  the  Third,  156,  157 

his  rule.  157,  158 

summons  (Jummons  to  Parliament,  158 

last  struggle  and  death,  159.  160 
Montfort,  Sim  n  de,  the  younger,  159 
Montreal,  capture  of  757 
Montrose,  Earl  and  Marquis  of,  532 

joins  the  King's  party,  541 

victory  at  Tippermuir,  553 

Inveriochy.  557 

Kilsyth,  558 

defeat  at  Philiphaugh,  ib. 

death,  576 
Moodkee,  battle  of,  841 
M  ore,  Sir  John,  825 
M.  re,  F Hannah,  740 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  315,  316 

his  "  Utopia,"  316—320 

reply  to  Luther,  321,  322 

Speaker.  325 

Chancellor,  333 

resigns,  336 

summ>  ned  to  Lambeth,  343 

imprisoned,  344 

death.  345 
Moreau.  General,  809.  811 
Morkere,  Earl  of  Northumbria,  70,  80,  83 
M(jrrison,  Robert,  botanist,  611 
Mortemer,  battle  of.  76 
Mortimer,  Edmund,  264 
Mortimer,  Huu&e  of,  its  claims  to  the  Crown, 

264,  283 
Mortimer,  Roger,  215 
Mortimer's  Cross,  battle  of,  284 
Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely,  299,  300 

h.s  "  fork,  '  302 
Morton,  E.irl  of.  Regent  of  Scotland,  5«a 
Moscow,  Napoleon's  retreat  from.  831 
Mountjoy,  Lord.  457 
Mowbray,  Roger.  109 
Murray.  James  Stuart,  Earl  of,  385 

Regent  of  Scotland,  388,  389 

murdered,  391,  522 


Namur  taken  by  Lewis  the  Fourteenth,  606 

by  the  Allies.  700 
Nantes,  Edict  of,  666 

revoked,  6^7 
Napoleon  the  First,  Emperor  of  the    French 
{jstt  Buonaparte).  8a  i 

his  victories  over  Austria  and  Germany, 
821,  8aa 

C  m  mental  .tystero,  8aa,  833 

alliarce  w.th  Russia,  8a3 

mas  ery  of  Europe.  824 

dealings  with  Spain,  ib. 

with  America,  8a8 

with  Northern  b.tm>pe,  830,  831 

Rusitian  campaign,  831 

faUr83» 

return,  834 

last  struggle,  8'^5,  836 
Napclson  the  Third,  Emperor,  842 
Naseby,  latile  of.  537.  558 
Nash,  pamphleteer.  401 
Navarino,  battle  of.  830 
Nectansmere,  battle  of,  3  s.  185 


INDEX. 


863 


Neerwinden,  battle  of,  696 
Nelson.  Admiral,  810,  P21 
IN etheriands  rev  h  against  Philip  the  Second, 
388,  412 — 413 
English  V  luateers  in,  414 
claimed  by  I^e  *  is  the  Fourteenth,  636 
invaded.  675.  696 

Marlborough's  campaigns  in,  710,  717 
invaded  again,  742,  808 
Neville,  Anne.  287 
Nev.Ue,    George,    Archbishop    of   York     and 

Chancellor.  286,  287,  288 
Neville's  Cro=s,  battle  <  f,  228 
Newburgh,  Wilia.n  of.  118 
Newbury,  battles  of,  550.  553 
Newrastle-on-Tyne  founded,  89 
Nesvcas.lc,  Dcke  of,  7^^.  748,  763 
Newcastle,  Earl  of,  CavaLer  general,  546,  548. 

552,  553 
Newton   Isaac,  611 
N-wtown  Butler,  battle  of,  688 
Niagara,  Fort,  747,  756 
Nicaolas,  Seer  tary  of  State,  617,636 
Nile,  hatliof,  8ro 
Nimeguen,  Peace  c  f,  649 

Nonconformists,  expulsion    of  ministers,   622, 
623 
persecuti  n  of,  624,  660 
Nor-iu;ors,  6  .1 
N  otka  Sound.  80 
Norfolk    Duke  of,  his  quarrel  -with  Henry  of 

Lancaster,  263 
Norfo  k,  Duke  of.  uncle  of  Anne  Boleyn,  328 
his  policy,  333.  356 
dealings  with  insurgents,  346 
imprisoned,  357 
Norfolk,  Duke  of,"  under  Elizabeth,  390,  391 
Norfolk.    Duke  of,  under  James  the  Second, 

669,  681 
Norfolk,  Ralph  of  Guader,  Earl  of,  88 
Norfolk,  Earl  of;  see  Bigod 
Norham,  Parliament  at.  t88 
Normandy,  71,  72 

its  relations  with  England,  61,  62,  77,  78 
with  the  Angevins.  113,  114 
conquered  by  Philip,  115,  116 
recon  uered  by  Henry  the  Fifth,  269,  270 
Bedford's  rule  in,  280 
lost  again,  281 
Normandy,  kichard  the  Fearless,  Duke  of,  72 
Normandy,  Robert,  Duke  of,  75 
NciJiandy,  Robert  Curthose,  Duke  of,  80,  90, 

96 
Normandy,  William  Longsword,  Duke  of,  72 
Normandy,  William  the  Conqueror,  Duke  of, 

see  William 
Normans,  their  settlement  in  Gaul,  71,  72 

conquests,  74 
North,  Lord  Keeper,  665 
North,  Lord,  minister  of  George  the  Third,  777, 

781,  7P5,  814        , 
Northamot  n.  Assize  of,  in 
batile  of,  403 
Council  <  f,  108 
treaty  of,  215 
Northampton,   John    of,    mayor    of   London, 

259 
!^orik  Briton,  tne,  767 
Norih-folk,  11 
Northmen,  45,  46  ;  see  Danes,  Ostmen 


Northumberland,  Duke  of  (j««  Warwick),  361, 

362 
Northu  iiberland,  Robert  Mowbray,  Earl  of,  80 
Northumberland,  Percy,  Earl  of,  under  Henry 

the  Fourth.  266 
Northumberland,  Earl  of,  under  Elizabeth,  390^ 

391    ,        . 
Northu. nbria,  kingdom  of,  13,  17 

its  extent,  19 

greatness,  20,  21 

conversion,  21 

Irish  missionaries  in,  24 

Cu:hbert  in,  26,  27 

eccl 'siastical  strife  in,  29,  30 

extent  under  Ecgfrith,  34 

its  fall,  35,  36 

literary  greatness,  38—41 

submits  to  Ecgberht,  44 

to  the  Danes,  46 

to  Eadwarfl,  54 

to  iE.helstan,  55 

earlJom  of,  57.  65 

its  north-rn  part  granted  to  the  Scots,  186 
Norwich,  rising  of  John  the  Litster  at,  254 
Nottingham,  peace  of,  46 
Nova  Scutia  con  -uered,  747 

ceded  by  France,  764 
Noy  invents  ship-money,  528 


Gates,  Titus,  650,  651,  691 

O'Brien,  Smith,  841 

Occleve,  294 

Ockhan,  151,  236 

O'Connell,  Daniel,  839.  840,  841 

Odo,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  55,  5J 

Odo,  Bishop  of  Bayeux,  81,  88,  89 

Offa,  King  of  Mercia,  41 — 43 

Oglethorpe.  General,  759 

OhioCjuipany,  747 

Oldcastle,  Sir  John,  259.     See  Cobham. 

O'Neil,  Hugh,  576 

O'Ncil,  Owen  Roe,  572 

O'Nedl.  Hugh,  457 

O'Neill,  Shane,  455 

Orange,  William  the  First,  Prince  of,  412,  413 

416 
Orange,  William  the  Second,  Prince  of,  572 
urange,    WilLam    the    Third,    Pr.nce    ol,   t€^ 

William 
Orangemen,  814 
Ordainers,  the  Lords,  208 
Ordeal,  in 

Orders  in  Counril.  Canning's,  824,  827,  830 
Ordinance,  Self-denying.  556 

for  Suppression  cf  Blasphemies,  569 
Orleans,  siege  of.  275—278 
Orleans,  Henrietta,  Duchess  of,  639 
Orleans,  Duke  c  f.  Regent  cf  France.  726 
Ormond,  Earl  of.  general  in  Ireland,  551 

invites  Charles  the  Second  th.ther,  573 

besieges  Diibl.n,  575 

Duke  and  Lord  Steward,  617 

Governor  in  Ireland,  633 

retires,  636 

returns  to  the  Council,  644, 645 
Ormond.  second  Duke  of,  720,  722,  725,  726 
Orthes,  battle  cf,  832 
Osbem's  lives  of  English  saints,  118 
Osney  Abbey,  133 


864 


INDEX. 


Ssttnen,  55 
swild,  King  of  Northumbria,  22 — 24 
Oswild,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  58 
Oswiu,  King  of  Northumbria,  25,  30,  33 
Otfo'd,  battle  of,  41 
Othere's  voyage,  50 
Otto  of  Saxony,  Emoeror,  113,  125,  126 
Oudenarde,  battle  of,  717 
Oudh,  annexation  of,  842 
Ovcrbury,  Sir  Thomas,  487 
Oxford  besieged  by  Stephen,  102 

town,  133 

Vacarius  at,  ib. 

friars  in,  149,  150 

Provisions  of,  155,  156 

Charles  the  First  at,  548,  549 

siege  of,  552 

Parliament  at,  659 

University,  133,  134,  136 

drives  out  a  Papal  Legate,  146 

Lol'ards  at,  242,  243 

decline  in  fifteenth  century,  294 

Duke  Humphry  gives  his  library  to,  298 

the  New  Learning  at,  304,  306,  309.  310 

Cardinal  College  at,  310,  323 

Protestants  at,  352 

religious  changes  in,  407 

decrees  passive  obedience,  478 

struggle  with  James  the  Second,  671 

Jacobites  in.  725 
Oxford,   Earl  of,  under  Henry   the   Seventh, 

^02 

Oxford,  Earl  of.  son-in-law  of  Cecil,  409 
Oxford,  Harley,  Earl  of  (see  Harley),  720,  722 


Packenham,  General,  833 

Palatinate  ravaged  by  Lewis  the  Fourteenth, 

684 
Pale,  the  English,  in  Ireland,  446,  447 
Palmerston,  Viscount,  840,  842,  843 
Pampeluna,  siege  of  832 
Pandulf,  Cardinal,  125,  141 
Papacy,  its  claims  on  the  English  Church,  143, 


junsdicl 


it!(  jurisdiction  rejected,  336,  337 

Mary's  submission  to,  363 

rejected  again,  377 
Paris,  English  students  at,  134—136 

Henry  the  Sixth  crowned  at,  279 

declares  for  Charles  the  Seventh.  a8o 

surrenders  to  the  allies,  83a,  836 

Peace  of,  764,  84a 
Paris,  Matthew,  146,  117 
Parker,  Matthew,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 

„    ..    377.  399 

Parliament,  Commons  summoned  to,  158 
growth  in  thirteenth  century,  173—181 
changes  in  its  composition,  231 
two  Houses,  232 

superseded  by  permanent  committee,  363 
deposes   Richard  the   Second   and    elects 

Henry  the  Fourth,  264 
position  under  House  of  Lancaster,  965 
importance  during  Wars  of  the  Roses,  289, 

203 
decline  under  Edward  the  Fourth,  293 
revival  under  Richard  the  Third^  300 
Henry  the  Seventh's  dealings  with,  30a 
struggle  with  Wolsey,  335 


Parliament — continued. 

revival  after  his  fall,  333 

undertakes  Church  reform,  334 

revival  under  Cromwell,  350 

opposes  Mary's  Church  policy,  364 

position  under  Elizabeth,  402 — 405 

relations  with  the  Crown.  ^80.  481 

suspension  under  Charles  the  First,  514 

struggle   with   Cliarles  the    Second,    641 
645,  646 

Danby  s  dealings  with,  648 

Roman  Catholics  excluded  from,  651 

James  the  Second's  attempt  to  ''  r^ulate,' 
670 

position  after  the  Revolution.  689 

composition  after  union  with  Scotland,  714 
715 

after  union  with  Ireland,  815 

relations  with  the  Press,  775 

Admonition  to,  470 

Acts  of,  see  Statutes 

reform   of,    774,    788,    793,    794,  829,  839 
843.  844 

Bareoones'  Parliament,  583,  584 

the  Cavalier,  620 — 624 

Club,  274 

Convention,  617—620 

Good,  234 

Long,  its  proceedings  in  1640,  537,  536 

in  164 1,  540 

Grand  Remonstrance,  543 

schemes  of  Church  Reform,  543,  544 

five  members,  544,  545 

prepares  for  war,  546,  547 

dealings  with  religion,  561,  562,  564 

with  the  army,  564 — 567 

Oxford,  659,  660 

Rump,  57'.  573.  574.  577" SSt 

Short,  533 

of  1604,  481,  483  ;  of  t6o6,  483  ;  of  i6ia 
484;  of  1614,  485;  of  1621,  490—493: 
of  1624,  495  ;  of  1625,  49ft ;  of  1628. 
501— 50S ;  of  1655,  593—595 ;  of  »658, 
597 ;  of  1659.  599 :  of  1679.  65a.  655 ; 
of  1680,  656,  658 ;  of  1686.  667 :  of  1690. 
69a  ;  of  1696,  700 ;  of  1698.  70a  ;  of  1701. 
704:  of  1784,  789,  790:  of  183a.  1831, 
and  1835,  839 ;  of  1859,  843 ;  of  iftK 
and  1874.  844 

Irish,  under  Wentworth,  521.  522 

under  James  the  Second,  688 

under  the  Georges,  81a 

its  independence  restored,  78J,  793*  81-) 

rejecu  free  trade,  795,  814 

action  as  to  Regency.  81^ 

Scottish,  the  '•Drunken.    < 
Parma,  Duke  of.  416,  418 
Parr,  Catharine,  357 
Parsons,  Jtsuit,  409.  410 
Partition,  Treaties  of,  70a 
Paston  Letters,  294 
Paterson,  William,  financier.  6qo 
•*  Patriots,"  732,  733 
Paul,  Czar  of  Russia,  818.  8tq 
Paulinus,  21,  23 
Pa  via,  battle  of,  327 
Peasant  revolt,  250—255 
Peel,  Sir  Robert.  838,  8v).8« 
"Peep-o'-Day  Boys,*'  814 
Peerage  Bill,  727.  728 


63« 


INDEX. 


86s 


Pelham,  Henry,  742,  748 
Pembroke,  setflement  of,  164,  165 
Pembroke,  Earls  of,  see  Marshal,  Striguil 
Penda,  King  of  Mercia,  22,  24,  25 
Pengwyrn  becomes  Shrewsbury,  42 
Peninsular  war,  825  —  827 
Penn,  William,  660,  759 
Pennsylvania  founded,  660,  759 
Penry,  author  of  Marprelate  tracts,  473 
Perceval,  Spencer,  826,  830 
Percy,  see  Hotspur,  Northumberland 
Perrers,  Alice,  235 
Perth,  Convocation  of,  193 
Peterborough  founded,  33 
burnt  by  Danes,  46 
Benedict  of,  118 
Peterborough,  Earl  of,  713,  716 
Petition  of  Grievances,  484,  485 
Millenary,  477 
of  Right,  501,  502 
"Petitioners"  and  "  Abhorrers,"  657 
Petitions  changed  into  Statutes,  233 
Petre,  Father,  669 
Petty,  Sir  William,  610 
Pevensey.  11 

William  lands  at,  79 
Phelips,  Sir  Robert,  497 
Philadelphia,  Congress  at,  778— 7B0 
Philip  Augustus,  King  of  France,  112 
war  With  Richard  the  First,  113,  114 
conqueis  Normandy,  &c.,  115,  116 
charged  to  depose  John,  124 
victory  at  Bouvines,  126 
Philip  of  Valois,  King  of  France,  his  war  with 

Edward  the  Third,  225—227 
Philip  (the  Second  of  Spain)  son  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  marries  Mary  Tudor,  362,  363 
supports  Elizabeth,  381 
turns  to  Mary  Stuart,  385 
position  and  character,  411,  412 
conquers  Portugal,  415 
defeat  of  his  Armada,  418 — 420 
designs  on  France.  443 
Phdip,  Duke  of  Anjou,  King  of  Spain,  703, 

726 
Philiphaugh.  battle  of,  558 
Philippines,  English   conquest  of,  764 
Pict-land,  185 
Picts  attack  Britain,  6 
defeated.  8 

subdued  by  Ecgfrith,  34,  185 
rise  against  him,  35,  185 
Piers  the  Ploughman,  255—257 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  507,  508 
Pilgrimage  of  Grace,  345,  346 
Pillnitz,  Conference  of,  804 
Pinkie  Cleugh,  battle  of,  380 
Pitt,  William,  732 
enters  office,  742 
character,  749—753 
supports  Frederick  the  Second,  754 
policy  towards  America,  755,  756 
opposed  by  the  Whigs,  762 
fall,  763 

recalled,  767,  769 
denounces  Stamp  Act,  770 
returns  to  office,  772  ;  see  Chatham 
Pitt,  William,  the  younger,  787,  788 
his  plan  of  reform.  788 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  ib. 


Pitt,  William,  the  younger — continued 

first  minister,  789 

his  character,  790,  791 

policy,  793 

bill  for  Parliamentary  reform,  794 

his  finance,  ib. 

treaty  of  commerce  with  France.  795 

dealings  with  Ireland,  ib.,  815,  817 

with  foreign  politics,  800,  801,  804 — 806 

supports  Libel  Act,  802 

gives  Constitution  to  Canada,  ib. 

financial  difficulties,  809,  810 

dealings  with  the  peerage,  816 

resigns,  818 

returns  t  >  office,  820 

death,  822 
Pittsburg,  756 
Place  Bill,  689 
Plassey,  battle  of,  753,  754 
Plattsburg,  English  attack  on,  833 
Plauen,  battle  of,  754 
Pleas,  Court  of  Common,  112 
Poitiers,  battle  of,  230 
Poland,  disputed  election  in,  732 

partition  of,  799 
Pole,  Reginald,  346,  347,  364 
Pollock,  General,  841 
Poll-tax,  251 
"  Popish  Plot,"  650.  651 
Portland,  Duke  of,  807,  823,  826 
Port  Mahon  taken  by  the  French,  748 
Porto  Bello  captured  by  Vernon,  734 
Portreeves  of  London,  92,  93 
Portsmouth,  Louise  de  Qu^rouaille,  Duchess  of 

630,  659.  664 
Portugal  conquered  by  Spain.  415 

Wellington's  campaigns  in,  825 — 827 
Poynings,  Sir  Edward,  448 
Pragmatic  Sanction,  729.  730 
Prague,  battles  of,  489,  748 
Prayer,  Book  of  Common,  358 

Scottish,  525.  529 
Presby tenants m  in  England,  468,  470,  472,  54^ 

in  Ireland,  812,  8n 

in  Scotland,  523,  686 
Ih-ess,  regulated  by  Star-Chamber,  473 

censorship  of,  abolished,  662 

proposal  to  revive,  700 

growth  of  its  influence,  767 

Grenville's  struggle  with,  ib.,  768 

influence  on  Parliament,  775 

beginnings  of  journalism,  ib. 
Preston,  battle  of,  569.  570 
Preston  Pans,  battle  of,  743 
Pride's  Purge,  571 
Printing,  invention  of,  295 
Protectorate,  the,  585 

Protestants,  their  triumph  under  T.  Cromwell. 
354,  355 

under  Hertford,  358 

persecuted  under  Mary,  364 — 366,  368 

growth  under  Elizabeth,  406,  4  7 

fortunes  on  the  Continent,  474,  475 

attitude  at  Elizabeth's  death,  476,  477 

French,  see  Huguenots 
Prussia  rises  against  Napoleon,  831 
Pulteney,  head  of  the  "  Patriots,"  73a 
Punjaub,  annexation  of,  842 
Puritanism,  its  rise,  462 

temper,  463,  464,  479 


866 


INDEX. 


Puritanism — continued. 
growth,  471 — 472 
Laud's  struggle  with,  510 
its  attitude  towards  the  stage,  527 
fall,  604 
work,  lb. 
ideal.  606 

revolt  against,  607,  608 
Puritan  clergy  expelled,  482 
emigration  to  America,  513,  514 

Pym,  John,  502.  535-537 

his  Grand  Remonstrance,  542 
plans  for  Church  reform,  543,  544 
charged  with  treas  n.  544 
proposes  terms  with  Scotland,  550 
death,  552 
his  corpse  outraged,  620 


Quakers,  persecution  of,  625 

released,  640 
Quarlcs,  526 

Quatre  Bras,  battle  of,  835 
Quebec,  capture  of,  756,  757 
Qu'.beron,  battle  of,  755 
"  Quo  Warranto,"  203,  204 


Radicals,  837 

Raedwald.  Kmg  of  East-Anglia,  19,  20,  22 

Rahere  founds  S.  Bartholomew's,  Smithfield, 

95 
Railways,  840 

Raikes,  f  /ui.der  of  Sunday  Schools,  740 
Ralegh,  his  "  Hibtory  .  f  the  World,'   399 

discovers  Virg.nia,  506 

la^t  expedition  a  d  dt-ath,  488,  489 
'Ramillies,  battle  of.  713,  714 
Ray,  John,  uologist,  611 
Ref  rm,  Economic  il,  788 

Parliamentary,  see  Parliament 
Reformation,  the,  its  begini.ing,  320 

antagonism  to  the  Rrniscence,  321 
Regicides,  their  fate,  617,  618 
Reginald,    suh-pri  r    of  Canterbury,    elected 


Archbish  n,  123 

e,  the  Grana,  ^4: 
Renascence,  see  Learning,  New 


Remonstrance,  the  Grand,  543 


Restoration,  its  s  cial  effects,  607,  608 
Revolution,  the  English,  682,  683 

resul.s,  688 — 690 

the  French,  798,  800,  803—806 

of  1830,  839 

of  18^,  841 
Rhys  an  Tewdor,  prince  of  South  Wains,  164 
Rich,  Edmund,  see  Edmund 
Richard  the  First,  son  of  Henry  the  Second, 
his  rebellions,  109,  ixa 

Crusade,  iia 

wars  with  France  and  alliance  with  Ger- 
many, 113 

builds  ChSteau-Gaillard,  114 

releases  Scotland  from  homage,  188 

death,  115 
Richard  the  .Second,  son  of  the  Black  Prince, 
acknowledged  heir  to  the  Crown,  235 

King,  251 

dealings  with  Peasant  Revolt,  252,  254 

takes  government  in  his  own  hands,  261 

truce  with  France,  ib. 


Richard  the  Second— ccntinued. 

marriage,  261 

character,  ib. 

rule,  262 

banishes  Henry  of  Lancaster,  263 

expeditions  to  Ireland,  261,  263,  447 

prisoner,  263 

deposed,  264 
Richard  the  1  bird,  patron  of  Caxton,  298 

King,  29^—301 
Richmond,  Edmund  Tudor,  Earl  of.  299 
Richmond,  Henry  Tud  ..r.  Earl  of,  299 

cla.m  to  the  Crown,  300 

plan  for  his  marr.age,  ib, 

victory  at  Busworth,  301  ;  see  Henry  the 
Stvenih 
Richmond,   Margaret  Beaufort,  Countess  of, 

299 
Ridley,  Bishop  of  London,  362,  367 
Right.  Claim  <.f,  685 

Petiti  >n  <  f,  501,  502 
Rights,  Bill,  f,  688 

Decl.nration  of,  683 
Rivers,   Earl,  father  of  Elizabeth  Woodville, 

287 
Rivers,  Earl,  brother  of  Elizabeth  Woodville, 
his  ■'  Sayings  of  the  Philosophers,"  298 

executed,  299 
Riiz.o.  386 

Robinson,  John,  Brownist  minister,  473,  507 
Kochelle,  Buckingham's  expcdiu..n  to,  500,  501 

its  fall.  504 
Roches.  Peter  des,  142,  145 
Rochester,  s.ege  of,  by  William  the    Second, 
89 


arl  of,  663,  669, 


Rochester,  Carr,  Viscount,  487 
Rochester,  Laurence  Hyde,  E; 

702 
Rochester,  Wilmrt,  Earl  of,  607 
Rochf  Td,  Lord,  328 

Rockingh.im,  Marquis  of,  770,  773,  785,  788 
Rodney.  Admiral,  786 

R.  ger.  Bishop  of  Salisbury  and  Justiciar,  tor. 
Roger,  son  ■  f  William  Fiti-Osbern,  88 
Ri  hese,  wifeof  Glbcrt  Beket,  103 
Rome.  Cnut  at,  66 

Church  of,  its  revival  in  sixteenth  century 

Roses,  Wars  of  the,  their  beginning,  283 
results  289,  2vo 


Ross.  General,  833 
Rossoach, ' 


battle  1  f,  754 
Roucoux,  battle  of,  744 
Rouen,  s.ege  of.  by  Henry  the  Fifth,  069.  170 

Henry  the  Six  h  at,  280 

subm.ts  to  Charles  the  Seventh,  »8i 
"  Roundheads,"  544 
R.  undway  Down,  battle  of,  549 
Royal  S  ciety,  the,  609,  6jo 
Runnymede,  laS 

Rupert.   Prince,    at    Edgehill,    Reading,  and 
Brentford,  548 

at  Chalgrove.  550 

enters  York,  552 

defeated  at  Martton  Moor,  552,  553 

at  Naseby,  558 

commands  a  fleet  for  Charles  the  Second, 

572.  575.  576^6*8  .,   , 
returns  to  the  Council,  645 
his  *•  drops,"  610 


INDEX. 


867 


Russell,  Lord  John,  841,  842 

Earl,  843 
Russell,   William,   Lord,    leader    of   Country 
party,  641 

enters  the  Council,  652 

resigns,  657 

beheaded,  661 
Russell,  Admiral,  695,  696 

enters  the  Ministry,  699 

resigns,  702 

impeached,  704 
Rutland,  Earl  of,  284 

Russia,  its  policy  in  eighteenth  century,  747, 
799,  801,  811,  81B,  819,  821,  823 

quarrel  with  Napoleon,  830,  831 
Ruyter,  Admiral,  580,  592,  628,  640 
Rye-house  Plot,  661 
Ryswick,  Peace  of,  700 


Sacheverell;  Dr.,  717 

St.  Albans,  its  historical  school,  146 

revolt  of  its  burghers,  253,  254 

battles  at,  284,  285 
St.  Edmundsbury,  its  origin,  47 

history,  93 — 95 

confirmati  <n  of  its  privileges,  254 
St.  John,  Henry,  713.  716,  718;  see  Bolingbroke 
St.  Ruth,  General,  694 
St.  Paul's  School,  3  >B,  309 
St.  Vincent,  Cape,  battles  of,  786,  810 
Salamanca,  battle  of,  831 
Salisbury,  Margaret,  Countess  of,  346,  347 
Salisbury,   Earl  of,  adherent   of  Richard  the 

Second,  263.  266 
Salisbury,  Earl  of,  partisan  of  York,  283 

beheaded,  2?4 
Salisbury,  Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of,  484,  487,  488 
San  croft,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  672,  682, 

690,  691 
Sandwich.  Montagu,  Earl  of,  617 
San  Sebastian,  siege  of,  8  52 
Sara'oga,  Burgoyne's  surrender  at,  781 
Sarsfield,  General,  693,  694 
Sautre,  William,  265 
Savoy, the,  144 

sacked,  252 

conference  at,  621 
Savoy,  Boniface  of.  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 

144 
Savoy,  Prince  Eugene  of,  710,  711,  715,  716 
Savoy,  Peter  of,  144 
Saxe,  Marshal,  742,  744 
Saxons,  their  home-land,  2 

East,  their  settlements,  11,  12 

West,  c  nqucr  Southern  Britain,  id. 

defeated  at  Faddiley,  17 

conquer  S  >mer.';et,  34,  37 

conquer  Dyvnaint,  42 

South,  kingdom  of,  11 
"Saxony,"  184,  185 
Say,  Lord,  282 
Scholasticism.  151 
Schomberg.  Duke  of,  692,  693 
Schools  founded  under  Henry  the  Eighth,  308. 
309 

under  Edward  the  Sixth,  360 

"  C.rculating,"  736 

National,  840 

Sunday,  740 


Science,  English,  its  beginnings,  609 — 611 

Sc.nde,  antiezat.on  of,  841 

Scotland,  condition  in  thirteenth  century,  184 

kingdom  of,  its  origin,  185,  186 

relations  with  England,  i86 — x88 

first  cun4uest  of,  188 — 190 

second,  191 — 195 

rev.-lt  under  Bruce,  211— 214" 

its  independence  recognized,  ai? 

alliance  with  France,  260 

history  after  Bruce,  379,  380 

Elizabeth's  deal.ngs  with,  381 

union  with  England  proposed,  482 

relations  with  the  Stuarts,  522,  523 

revolts  against  Charle   the  First,  53a 

reaction  in,  568 

condition  under  Cromwell,  589 

under  Charles  the  Second,  632 

acknowledges  William  and  Mary,  685 

first  union  with  England,  579,  589 

diss  Ived,  632 

second  union,  714,  715 

Jacobite  nsings  in,  725,  743,  744 
Scots  attack  Br.tam,  6 

their  origin,  185 

submit  to  Eadward  the  Elder,  54,  186 

league  with  the  Percies,  266 

in  service  oF  France,  275 
Scrope,  Archbishop  of  York,  266 
Scutage,  109,  129 
Sea-Dogs,  the,  414 
Sebastopol,  siege  of,  842 
Securities  Bill,  646,  658 
Sedgem  lor,  battle  of,  665 
Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  607 

Se  iiinary  Priests,  408  * 

Seneff.  battle  of,  676 
Separatists,  472 
Seven  Years'  War,  its  beginning,  748 

its  effects,  757 

end,  761. 
Seville,  treaty  of,  730 
Seymour,  Jane,  348 
Shaftesbury,  Earl  of  (see  Ashley,  CooperX  640 

character  and  career,  642,  643 

policv,  643,  644 

dismissed,  645 

new  policy,  ii. ,  646 

demands  a  dissolution,  648 

impris  'ned,  ii. 

deali.igs  w.th  Popish  Plot,  650,  651,  656, 

657—659 

President  of  Council,  652 

plans  for  Monmouth's  succession,  655 

dismissed,  656 

recalls  Monmouth,  657 

fall  and  death,  660 
Shakspere,  429 — 436 
Shaxton,  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  354 
Shelbume,  Lord,  766,  773,  787 
She>b>me,  see  of,  37 

Sheriff,  his  function  in  the  shire-court,  176 
Sheriffmuir,  battle  of,  725 
Ship-money,  528,  529 

declared  illegal.  538 
Shire,  Knights  of  the,  158,  176,  177 
Shire- coiu-t,  175,  176 
Shrewsbury  (ScrobsbyrygX  42 

battle  of,  266 
Shrewsbury,  Duke  of,  720 


868 


INDEX. 


Shrewsbury,  Talbot,  Earl  of,  280,  281 

Shrewsbury.  Earl  of,  Secretary  of  State,  691, 699 

Sidmouth,  Lord,  822 

Sidney,  Algernon,  661 

Sidney,  Sir  Henry,  455 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  400,  416,  422 

Sigeberht.  k.ng  of  East  Anglia,  2a 

Sikhs,  746,  841,  842 

Simnel,  Lambert,  301 

Siward,  Earl  of  Northumbria,  68 

Skeffington.  Deputy  in  Ireland,  449 

Slanning,  Sir  Nicholas,  549 

Slavery  in  early  England,  15,  16 

its  dechne,  58,  59 

disappearance,  245 

colonial,  abolished,  840 
Slave-trade  in  early  England,  59,  88 

African,  395 

movement  for  its  abolition,  796,  797 

abolished,  823 
Sleswick,  its  people  in  the  fifth  century,  i 
Sluys,  battle  of,  225 
Smerwick,  massacre  at,  456 
Smith,  Adam,  793 
Smith,  John,  settles  in  Virginia,  507 
Smith,  Sir  Sidney,  811 
Smithfield.  8 

St.  Bartholomew's  Priory  at,  95 
Snowdon,  Lords  of,  165 
Sobraon,  battle  of.  841 
Solway  Moss,  battle  of,  380 
Somers,  John,  683 

Lord  Keeper,  699 

dismissed,  702 

impeached,  704 

President  of  Council,  716 
Somerset  conquered  by  West-Saxons,  34,  37 
Somerset,  Beaufort,  Duke  of,  282,  283 
Somerset,     Margaret,    Duchess  of,    patron   of 

Caxton.  298 
Somerset.  Protector,  see  Hertford 

invades  Scotland,  380 
S'^merset,  Duke  of.  and  James  the  Second,  €69 
Somerset,  Carr,  Viscount   Rochester  and  Earl 

of,  487 
Somerton  taken  by  vlithelbald  of  Mercia,  38 
Somerville's  plot,  416 
Sophia,  Electress  of  Hanover,  705 
Soult,  Marshal,  825,  8^1,  8^2 
Southamptun,   Earl    of,   friend  of   Shakspere, 

Southampton,  Earl  of,  Lord  Treasurer,  617,  636 

South-f  .Ik,  II 

South  Sea  Bubble,  738 

Southumbrians,  13 

Spain,  growth  of  its  power,  311 

alliance  with  Henry  the  Seventh,  ib. 

undrr  Philip  the  .second.  411 

relations  with  James  the   First,  488,  489, 
4Q2,  ^94,  495 

Its  decline,  674 

disputed  succession  in,  701—703 

war  in,  713 

alliance  with  Charles  the  Sixth,  729 

Family  Compact  with  France,  733 

war  with  En^Lind,  734,  763.  764 

league  with  France  and  America,  78a 

mastered  by  NajHileon,  824 

ri.ses,  825 

Wellington's  campaign  in,  831,  83a 


Speed,  chronicler,  399 
Spencer,  Earl,  807 
Spenser,  Edinund,  422 — 426 

influence  on  Milton,  526 
Sports,  Book  of,  511 
Spurs,  battle  of  the,  311,  312 
Stafford,  Lord,  658,  659 
Stair,  Dalrymple,  Master  of,  686 
Stamford  Bridge,  battle  of,  79 
Standard,  battle  of  the,  loa 
Stanhope,  Lord,  Secretary  of  State,  725 

his  Ministry,  727 

death,  728 
Star  Chamber,  Court  of,  established,  302 

regulates  the  Press,  473 

empl  .ivment   by  Charles  the  First,  516,  517 

abolished,  540 
Stationers,  Company  of,  473 
Statutes,  change  in  mode  of  passing  them,  293 

of  Apparel,  282 

Appeals,  337 

Ballot  Act,  844 

Civil  Marriage,  840 

Church  Disestablishment  (Ireland),  844 

Conventicle,  624 

Corn  Laws,  837 

repealed,  841 

Corporation  Act.  621 

Five  Mile,  624,  635 

of  Grace,  692 

of  Government,  595 

Habeas  Corpus,  662 

suspended,  725 

Statute  of  Heresy,  265 

repealed,  358,  360 

re-enacted,  364 

India,  795^ 

of  Indemnity  and  Oblivion,  617,  618 

of  Kilkenny.  447 

of  Labourers,  249 

Land  Act  (Ireland),  844 

Libel,  802 

of  Liveries,  302 

of  Merchants,  172 

of  Mortmain,  ib. 

Municipal  Corporations,  840 

Mutiny,  689 

Navig^aticn,  579,  768,  769 

Occasional  Conformity,  71a 

repealed,  725 

Poor  Laws,  392,  393,  840 

Poynings",  448 

repealed,  786 

of  Pr«munire,  237 

used  by  Henry  the  Eighth  against  Wolsey, 

330 
against  the  clergy,  335 
of  Provisors,  237 


'Quia  Emptorcs,"  173 
ileform,  839,  844 


Re 

Registration,  840 
Regulating,  783 
of  Rights,  688 
Schism,  719 
repealed;  725 
of  Secunty,  715 
Septennial,  726 
of  Settlement,  705 
Six  Articles.  355 
repealed,  358 


INDEX. 


869 


Statutes — continued. 

Stamp  Act,  769 

resisted  in  America,  770 

repealed,  ^[72 

of  Successi  m,  343 

of  Supremacy,  337 

Test,  384,  641 

set  aside,  667 

Tithe  Commutation,  840 

Triennial,  538,  689,  699 

Toleration,  690 

of  Uniformity,  377,  621 

of  Union  with  Ireland,  815 

with  Scotland,  714,  715 

of  Wales,  169 

of  Winchester,  172 
Steam-engine,  792 
Steinkirk,  battle  of,  696 
Stephen,  King,  loi,  102,  104,  133 
Stigand,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  70,  85 
Stillingfleet,  636,  668 
Stirling,  battle  of,  191 
Stowe,  chronicler,  399 
Strafford,  Earl  oHjsee  Wentworth),  533,  534 

impeached,  537 

trial,  538 

death,  539,  540 
Strathclyde,  19 

submits  to  Oswald,  24 

to  Eadberht,  41 

to  Eadward,  54 

granted  to  Malcolm,  186 
Stratton  Hill,  battle  of,  549 
Streoneshealh,  see  Whitby 
Striguil,  Richard  of  Clare,  Earl  of  Pembroke 

and,  445,  46 
Strode,  one  of  the  Five  Members,  544 
Strongbow,  446 

Stuart,  Charles  Edward,  743,  744 
Stuart,  James  Francis,  son  of  James  the  Second, 

679,  725 
Stukely,  456 

Sudbury,  Archbishop,  252,  253 
Suffolk,  Michael  de  la  Pole,  Earl  of,  261 
Suffolk,  Earl  of,  minister  of  Henry  the  Sixth, 

280,  281 
Suffolk,  Grey.  Duke  of  (Lord  Dorset),  361,  363 
Sunderland,  R  )bert.  Earl  of,  652,  655,  659 

his  ministerial  system,  697 
Sunderland,  Charles,   Earl  of,  713,   715,  716, 

727 
Supplies,  grant  of,  made  annual,  689 
Surajah  D  wlah,  753,  754 
Surrey,  John  de  Warrenne,  Earl  of,  191 
Surrey,  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of,  357 
Sussex  submits  to  Wulfhere,  32 

to  Ceadwalla,  37 

to  Offa,  41 
Sussex,  Earl  of,  Deputy  in  Ireland,  454,  455 
Swein  Forkbeard,  King  of  Denmark,  62,  65 
Swein  Estrith-son,  King  of  Denmark,  82 
Swein,  son  of  Godwine,  69 
Swithun,  bishop  of  Winchester,  46 
Sydenham,  medical  writer,  611 


"Tables,"  the,  530 
Taillebourg,  battle  of,  145 
Talavera,  battle  of,  826 
Taunton  founded,  57 


Taxation  regulated  by  Great  Charter,  129 

how  levied,  175,  177 

under  Elizabeth,  402 

arbitrary,   see   Benevolence,    Impositiuas, 
Loan 

regulated  by  Long  Parliament,  $38 

Parliament  regains  control  over,  689 

reduced  by  Walpole,  730 

during  French  war,  809 

Income-tax.  841 

of  America,  769,  770, 776 

Papal,  on  the  English  ciergy,  146,  337 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  612,  613 
Taylor,  Rowland,  364 — 366 
Temple,  Earl,  769,  772 
Temple,  Sir  William,  637 

Secretary  of  State,  652 

his  Council,  653,  654 

agrees  to  the  Exclusion,  658 
Tenchebray,  battle  of,  96 
Testament,  New,  Erasmus's  edition  of,  313 
Tewkesbury,  battle  of,  288 
Thanet.  English  land  in,  7,  8 

Augustine  lands  in,  18 
Theatre,  first  erected  in  London,  427 
Thegn,  the,  60 
Theobald,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  103 

his  court,  13^ 
Theodore,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  30 — 32 

his  school  at  Canterbury,  39 
Thirty  Years'  War,  489 
Thistlewood,  Arthur,  837 
"  Thorough,"  Wentworth's,  528 
Thurstan,  Archbishop  of  York,  102 
Ticondero^a,  Fort,  747,  756 
Tillotson,  theologian,  614. 636, 668  , 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  691 
Tilsit,  Peace  of,  823 
Tippermiiir,  battle  of,  553 
Tippoo  Sahib,  810 
Tithes,  31 

commutation  of,  840 
Tone.  Wolfe.  814 
Torgau,  battle  of,  ^^63 
''  Tories,"  their  origm,  657 

attitude  towards  Grand  Alliance,  699 

relations  with  Marlborough,  712,  713 

withdraw  from  politics,  722 

return,  733,  762 

govern  during  French  war,  823  ;  see  Con- 
servatives 
Torres  Vedras,  Wellington's  defence  of,  827 
Torrington,  Herbert,  Earl  of,  692,  695 
Tortulf  the  Forester,  98 
Tostig,  son  of  Godwine,  70,  78 
Toulon,  revolt  of,  808 
Toulouse,  siege  of,  106 

battle  of,  832 
Tourville,  Admiral.  694,  695 
Tower  of  London  founded,  81 
Towns,  early  English,  92 — 95 

their  privileges  confirmed  by  Great  Charter, 
129 

share  in  the  Barons'  War,  156 

taxati  n  of,  177 

struegle  for  freedom,  194 — 196 

social  life,  196 — 199 

strife  of  classes  in,  199 — 201 

charters  cancelled  by  Charles  the  Second, 
663 


870 


INDEX. 


Towns — continued. 

self-government      restored,       840.      See 
Boroughs 
Townshend,  Charles,  766 
Towns'ienJ,  Viacount,  72s.  727,  738,  732 
Township,  the  eld  English,  3,  4 
Tow  ton,  battle  of,  285 
Trade,  Engl  sh,  under  Eadgar,  58 

under  Cnut,  66,  67 

under  bldward  the  First,  202 

Edward  the  Third,  224,  225 

El.xabeth,  394—396 

with  the  colonies.  730,  758,  768 — 769 

with  Spani  h  America,  733 

in  coal  and  ir  n,  792 

Bu  ,naparte"s  efforts  to  check,  818,  822,  823 

Huskisson's  and  Canning's  policy  towards, 
838 

freedom  of,  841 

Board  of,  700 

Irish,  795,  812,  814,  815.    See  Slave-trade 
Trafalgar,  battle  of,  821 
Trent.  Council  <  f,  357 
Tresham,  Francis,  483 
Trevani  .n.  Sir  J  ^hn,  549 
Trichinopoly  relieved  by  Clive,  746 
Tromp,  Admiral,  579,  580,  592 
Tr  yes.  Treaty  of,  270 
Trumwine,  Bish  p  c/Abercom,  34.  36 
Tudor,  House  of,  its  claim  to  the  Crown,  299, 

300.     See  Richmond 
Turgot,  annalist  of  Durham,  117 
Twysdeni  399 
Tyler,  Wat,  252,  253 
Tyndale,  William.  351 
TyrcoiyicU,  Earl  of,  668,  687 

Udall,  author  of  Marprelate  tracts,  473 
Dim,  cani  ulation  of.  821 
Ulster,  Plantation  of,  457 
Univers.ties,  their  rise,  133 

relati  n  to  feudalism,  135,  136 

to  the  Church   136,  137 

influence  of  New  Learning  on,  309,  310 

consulted  on  Henry  the  Eighth  a  divorce, 

■tni^gle  with  James  the  Second,  671 

rel.gious  tests  abolished  in,  844 
fJricon.um,  13 
Usher,  Archbishop,  543 
Utrecht,  Treaty  of,  719 
Uxbridge,  Treaty  ot,  557 

Vacarius,  133 
Val-is-Dunei,  battle  of,  75 
Valley  Forge,  battle  of  780 
Vane.  Sir  Harry,  the  elder,  5S5 
Vane,  Sir  Harry,  the  younger,  supports  Inde> 
pendents,  5^5,  563 

negotiatett  at  Ldin burgh,  550 

organizes  navy,  576 

his  policy,  579 

quarrel  wit  1  Cromwell,  581 

offered  stat  in  Council,  582 

share  in  union  with  Scotland,  589 

excluded  from  pardon,  6x8 

executed.  6ai 
Varangians,  83 
Varavflle,  battle  of,  76 


I    Vaudois,  massacre  of.  596 
I    Verden.  dispute  about,  727 
i    Vere,  Sir  Horace,  489 
Verneuil,  battle  of,  275 
Verney,  Sir  Edmund,  542 
Vernon,  Admiral,  734 
Vervins,  Treaty  of,  443 
Vespucci.  Amerigo,  his  travels,  303,  316 
Victoria.  Queen,  840 
Villeins,  245 

become  copy-holders,  246 

revolt,  249,  250 

excluded  from  school  and  college,  358 

extinction,  257 
Vimiera,  battle  (/t,  825 
Vinegar  Hill,  battle  of,  810,  815 
Virginia  discovered,  506 

settled,  507 
Vitoria,  battle  of.  832 
Volunteers,  English,  843 

Insh,  785,  813 


Wage.  119 

Wagram,  battle  of,  826 

Wakefield,  battle  <  f,  284 

Walcheren  expedition,  826 

Walcourt.  battle  of,  685 

Wales,  William  the  First's  dealings  with,  89 

its  literature,  161 — 163 

relations  with  England,  163,  164 

revival  in  twelfth  century,  165 — 167 

conquest  of,  168 

statute  of,  169 

revolt  in,  266 
Wallace,  William,  191 — 193 
Waller,  Sir  William,  549,  556 
Wallingford,  Treaty  of,  10  j 
Wall  ng  on.  Nehemiah,  464 
Wallis,  CapUin,  758 
Wallis,  Dr.,  610 
Walpole.  Sir  Robert,  723,  724  ^ 

his  offices  in  Townshend  ministry,  725 

resigns,  727 

op|)Oies  Peerage  Bill,  il>. 

returns  to  ofTicc,  728 

his  peace  policy,  729 

finance,  730,  731 

greed  of  power,  73a 

attitude  in  P  lisn  war,  ih. 

towards  Spain,  733 

fall,  73A 
Walter,  Hubert,  se«  Hubert 
Walters,  Lucy.  630 
Walworth,  Willi.im,  a«{3 
Wanboroueh,  banle  «  f,  37 
Wandewasn.  battle  of,  78a 
Warbeck,  Perkin,  301 
Ward,  Dr..  mathematician.  610 
Warham,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  friend  of 
the  New  Learning,  307 

protects  Chur-h  ref^  riners,  3x0 

supp  irts  Erasnus,  513 

his  share  in  submission  of  the  clergy,  336 

death,  337 
Warwick,   Neville,  Earl  of  (the  King-maker* 
a8i,  a?s 

hi*  character  and  poafUon,  s86 

policy,  387 

death.  a88 


INDEX. 


871 


Warwick,  Earl  of,  son  of  Clarence,  301 
Warwick.  Earl  of.  Protector,  359.     See  North- 
umberland 
Warwick,  Earl  of,  buys  Connecticut  valley,  529 

comminder  of  the  fle.t,  547 
Washington,  George,  747,  756,  779,  780,  785 
Wash.ngton,  Engl  sh  capture  of,  833 
Waterl  o,  battle  of,  835,  836 
Watling  Street,  49 
Watt,  James,  792 
Wearmouth.  monastery  at,  29 
Wedmore,  peace  of,  48,  49 
Weliesley,  Sir  Arthur,  825,  S26.  See  Wellington 
Wellesley,  Marquis,  826 

Wellington,  Lord  {see  Wellesley),  campaign  i  1 
Po  tugal,  826,  827 

in  Spain.  831,  832 

in  France,  832 

in  Belgium,  834 — 836 

(Duke  oO  his  ministry,  839 
Welsh,  their  alliance  with  Penda,  22 

subm.t  to  OfFa.  42 

to  Ecgberht,  43,  46 

to  iEthelstan,  55 
Wentworth,  Peter.  404 
Wentworth.  Thomas,  485,  501 

his  pohcy, 519, 520,  528 

Deputy  in  Ireland,  520,  521;  see  Strafford 
Wesley,  Charles,  737. 738 
Wesley,  John,  738.  739 
Wessex,  kingd  ^m  of,  11,  12 

its  extent,  19 

submits  to  Oswald's  overlordship,  24 

becomes  Christ. an,  ib. 

ravaged  by  Wulfhere,  32 

revival   under  Centwine,  Ceadwalla,  and 
Ine,  37 

struggle  w.th  Mercia,  37,  38,  42 — 44 

attacked  by  northmen,  45,  46 

by  Danes,  47      • 

revival  under  iElfred,  49 — 52 

fall,  61,62 

earldom  of,  65 
Westminster  Abbey,  144,  180 

Assembly  and  Confession,  561 

Parliament  settled  at,  180 

Provisions  of,  155 
Weston,  Lord  Treasurer.  503,  516,  522 
Wharton,  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  716 
Whiggamore  raid.  570 
"  W  higs,"  their  origin,  570,  657 

support  war  against  France,  699 

relat.ons  with  Marlborough,  713,  715,  716 

their  long  rule,  722,  723 

factions  under  Walpole,  732 

reunited  under  Pe  hanf,  742 

opp  ^se  Pitt,  76^,  763  _ 

divisions  under  Rockingham,  787 

the  "Old,"  807 

return  to  power,  839,  841,  841; 
Whitefield,  737.  738 
White  Ship,  wreck  of  the,  97 
Whiiby,  abliey  of,  27 

syn  d  of,  29.  30 
Whitgift.  Archb.shop.  471,  473,  474 
Wiglaf.  King    f  Mtrcia,  44 
Wilberforce,  William,  797 
Wilfrid  of  York,  29.  30 
Wilkes,  J  hn,  767,  768,  773,  774 
Wilkuis,  Dr.,  610,  611 


William  the  Conqueror,    Duke  of  Normandy 
74,  76 

war  with  France,  76 

subdues  Maine  and  Britanny,  77 

his  rule  in  Normandy,  tb. 

marriage,  ib. 

relations  with  Lanfranc,  ib. 

visits  England,  78 

his  claim'«,  ib. 
..    lands  at  Pevensey,  79 

victory  at  Hastings,  79,  80 

crowned,  81 

his  conquest  of  England,  81—83 

dealings  with  feidalism,  83 — 85 

administration,  85 

Church  policy,  85 — 86 

rev  Its  against  him,  82,  88 

his  rule,  88 

bridles  Scotland  and  Wales,  88,  89 

death,  89 
William  Rufus,  King,  89 

revolts  aga  nst  him,  ib. 

struggle  w'th  the  Church,  89,  90 

Continental  wars,  90 

dealings  with  Scotland,  ib. 

with  Wales,  ib. ,  164 

death.  90.  ^i 
William  the  Third,  Prince  of  Orange,  640,  644, 
675,  676 

proposed  marriage.  647 

defeat  at  Cassel,  648 

marriage,  649 

policy  in  England,  658.  660,  677,  678 

on  the  Continent.  676,  677 

invited  to  England,  679 

lands,  681 

King,  683 

forms  Grand  Alliance,  684 

dealings  with  Sc  tlnnd,  685,  686 

with  the  Church,  690,  691 

campaign  in  Ireland,  693 

in  Flanders,  695 

motives  f  r  peace  of  Ryswlck,  701,  702 

last  sruegle  with  Lewis,  703.  704 

death,  707 
William  the  Fourth,  King,  839,  840 
William  the  iEtheling,  p; 
William    the   Lion,   King   of   Scots,   invades 

England,  109 

prisoner,  no 

homage  to  Henry  the  Second.  187,  188 

r^leased  fr^m  it  by  Richard,  188 
William,  son  of  Robert  of  Normandy,  96,  97, 

lOI 

'.Vi'liam  of  the  Long  Beard,  200,  201 

Williams,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  543,  544 

Williams,  Roger,  514 

Will  s,  physi  jlogist,  611 

Wilt  hire.  Earl  of.  328 

WincheUey,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  207 

Winchester  surrendered  to  the  Conqueror,  80 

Statute  of  172 
Winchester,  Marquis  of,  558 
Windel)aiik,  Seen  tary  of  S-ate,  538 
Windham,  leader  of  'Old  Whigs,"  807 
Winfrith,  see  Bon. face 
Winthrop,  J  >hn,  508 
Winwaed,  battle  of,  25 
Wippedsfleet,  battle  01,  10 
Witenagemot,  the,  60,  61 


87^ 


INDEX. 


Wither,  George,  526 
Witt,  John  de,  675 
Wolfe,  General,  756,  757 
Wolsey,  Thomas,  ^22 

his  foreign  pulicy,  ib. 

his  offices,  323 

educational  f  mndations,  310,  323 

administra.ion,  323,  324 

financial  measures,  325,  326 

struggle  with  Parliament,  ib. 

conduct  in  the  king's  divorce  case,  328,  329 

fall,  330 

results  of  his  career,  331 
Woodville,  Elizabeth,  see  Grey 
Woodward,  mineralogist,  611 
Worcester,  battle  of,  578 
Worcester,  Tiptoft,  Earl  cf,  274,  298,  299 
Wulf  here,  King  of  Mercia,  32 — 34 
Wulfstan,  Archbishop  of  York,  55,  57 
Wulfstan,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  89 
Wulfstan's  voyage,  50 
Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  363 
Wycherly,  607 
Wychf,  John,  235,  236 

his  plans  of  reform,  230 

charged  with  heresy,  ib.,  240 

his  "poor  preachers,"  240,  242 

denies  Transubstantiation,  241 

his  writings,  ib. 

condemned,  242 

death,  244 

translation  of  the  Bible,  ib. 

its  effects,  259 

influence  in  Bohemia,  263 


Wykehain,  WilLam  of, '  Bishop  of  Winchestei 

«34 
Wyndham,  Sir  William,  722,  725 


York  conquered  by  the  Deiri,  13 

by  Cadwall  n,  22 

revolts  against  William  the  First,  82 

massacre  of  Jews  at,  205 

Parliament  at,  210 

siege  of,  552 
York,  New,  its  origin,  758 
York  Town,  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at.  7B5 
York,  Duke  of,  joins  Henry  the  Fourth,  263 
York,  Frederick,  Duke  of,  808 
York,  James  Duke  of.  Lord  Admiral,  617 

marries  Anne  Hyde,  635,  669 

conversion,  638 

fight  with  De  Kuyter,  640 
'  resigns  office,  641 

second  marriage,  645 

plans  f^r  his  succession,  654,  658,  659 

see  James  the  Second  » 

York,  Richard,  Duke  of.  Regent  in  France  for 
Henry  the  Sixth,  280 

rivalry  with  Henry,  282,  284 

death,  234 
York,  Richard,   Duke  of,   son  of  Edward  tht 
Fourth,  299 


Zaragoza,  sieges  of,  825 
Zomdorf,  battle  of.  754 
Zutpben,  battle  of,  416 


THE  END. 


1 


RSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed, 
book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


27Jan'51WK 
r       23Maj'5^LC) 


FEB    7  1955 
REC'D  LD 

MAR  "l  11958 


WAV  c, 

6N0V'59tR 


Wl  91953  W'SfPg  7  1971  2? 

21-100m-9,'47(A57028l6)476  RETURfs/ED  TO 


IN  STACKS 

rtCT  2  3 1959 
•Usee's  ua 

5JUL'60FWy 
RECD 

JUL  5     'dcO 


DEC    2"b^  ■-*'* 
IN  STACKS 

NOV  3  0  1964 


LD 


J'JH  1  yi973 


IpAN    AHC 


LD21A-40m-ll,'63 
(E16028l0)476B 


G«n«ral  Library 

Uoivenity  of  Califoroia 

Berkeley 


I 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  UBRARY 


